Chapter 8 #2
I feel Reon come up beside me. He takes the knife, wiping it off on the guys’ clothes, and stuffs it into his jacket pocket.
I watch as he pulls out a handkerchief, wiping the blood from my hands.
Droplets have splattered onto my skin, and he tenderly wipes them away.
Pressing a kiss to my palm before he slides the handkerchief back where he pulled it from.
“It’s time we go home.”
“But I’m not tired,” I argue. No, I feel the best I’ve felt in a long time.
Invigorated. Energized. Stimulated.
“Who said anything about going home to sleep?”
I smile at his words as we start walking.
Reon checks to ensure no one else witnesses us leaving the alley, and we stay out of the lighted areas as we make our way up the hill to his apartment building.
He makes a few calls, and I hear him asking someone to wipe any evidence of him out tonight.
Neither of us says a word until we reach the elevator.
“What do you plan to do with the knife?” I ask as we step out of the elevator, and he unlocks the door. With the door closed and locked behind us, he goes to the kitchen, opens the dishwasher, places the knife inside, and starts it before he turns to me.
“Give me your clothes,” he orders.
“That’s not the nicest way to ask me to get naked, but okay.
” I remove my clothing as he instructs before moving to the living room fireplace.
He starts it up, and the fire flickers. When it’s fully alight, he tears off his clothes and throws them in.
Then he strides over to me and reaches for mine.
When he turns around, I see that his back is fully inked, featuring a woman with rosary beads in her hands and fire licking all around her.
I knew he had tattoos—the ones on his fingers are perfectly visible—but I didn’t realize his whole back is covered.
He throws my clothes onto the flames, and when he turns to look back at me, I smile at him.
“Do you do that often?” I ask. His gaze fixes on me, dark and penetrating, as if he can see me to my core.
He’s naked and foreboding, seemingly carved from granite or marble, like a Greek statue brought to life.
His tattoos are stark on his body as the flames of the fire flicker across his golden skin.
He’s devilish, dangerous, and observant.
The silence stretches to breaking point until he finally speaks.
“Remember how we spoke about my favorite things to do?” I nod. His gaze takes in all of me. I can feel it scorching my bare skin. “It’s my favorite thing to do.”
My heart skips a beat at his response. Everyone in my world has seen me differently and never understood me. And yet, here is this man, standing in front of me, someone who might finally understand me, who would potentially relish in the thoughts that cross my mind and not try to lock me in a box.
I see him now, and it excites me even more.
“But why? Why would someone like you…” I wave a hand at him, so perfect, so successful.
“Someone like me?” he asks as he raises a brow and stalks closer to me. “What is someone like me? You saw a suit and a plane and presumed what?”
“You seem so normal, with your business trips, perfectly styled hair, and your ex-girlfriend’s sister-in-law.”
He licks his lips, offering a shallow shrug and barely perceptible smile. “Define normal? And, yes, I live a regular life, but I also take lives.”
My hands fist at my sides. “So, why?” Taking a deep breath, I open them.
“Did you enjoy it?” he asks. “Did you enjoy when you pulled that knife out of that lowlife, or was it the high of the possibility you might get killed? Which one, Caterpillar?”
He reaches me, his hand moving to touch between my legs, and I think back to the noise when I extracted that knife, the whoosh sound of blood streaming out, the cold hilt of the blade in my hands. My breathing grows heavier, and wetness gathers between my legs as my chest rises and falls faster.
“The knife,” I breathe.
“I presumed as much. You have this twinkle in your pretty chocolate eyes that tells me so. You see, you are a bad, bad girl, Caterpillar, pretending to be a good girl. But do you know what we do to good girls?”
I shake my head as his fingers slide up to my pussy.
“We break them.” I gasp as he spins me to face away from him.
His hands slide into my hair and grip tightly.
He pulls my head back so fast that my neck smashes into his shoulder.
My nipples harden at the sharp contact, and the feel of his hardness against my ass does nothing to allay the feelings of want.
“Do you want me to break you, Caterpillar?”
“Please,” I beg, and he pulls me closer before he pushes me away.
“Get on your knees,” he commands like no other person before him. My willingness to obey him is stronger than I have ever felt before.
I do as he says, lowering to my knees, the floor hard beneath them. When I tilt my head, I find his amber eyes already on mine.
“Do not move.” He steps out of my line of sight, and I hear a rustling sound. When he returns, he ties something around my wrists, then pushes me forward, catching me by the hair to prevent me from falling face-first. The hold he has on my hair is painful, but I stay silent.
I hear him spit just before I feel something drip onto my asshole.
“Stop tensing,” he orders, and I relax as I feel something warm there.
He slides something into my ass and then pulls me back to my knees by the hold he has on my hair.
“Does it hurt?” he asks. Then a buzzing sound fills the air, and I feel a vibration in my ass.
I shake my head, no words coming to me. He smiles and steps back up to me, his cock in my face. “Taste.”
I lean forward, my lips going around the head before I take him into my mouth. When I do, he slaps me hard across my breast. “I said taste, don’t be a greedy Caterpillar.” I pull back, and this time, I let my tongue circle around his head. “That’s better.”
The buzzing gets louder, and whatever is in my ass vibrates faster. It feels strange and pleasant at the same time.
“Hmm, you’re enjoying it.” I continue to taste him, not taking him in fully again. “Now you can have it.”
As soon as he says it, I open my mouth wide and take him as deep as I can. His hands are fisted in my hair as he ever so slowly guides me up and down his length.
“Stop.” I freeze at the tip. “I want to finish inside you.”
“Condom,” I say after I pull off him completely. “I’ve been tested, but the results aren’t in till tomorrow, and Deven was fucking….”
“Okay, Caterpillar.” He smirks and slides one on, and as if I’m a rag doll, he lifts me and sets me on the table face up, my hands still tied.
He nudges my legs open and steps between them.
“Wiggle to the edge. Now.” I do as he says, wiggling my ass until I’m right where he wants me, and he slides straight into me.
No warning, just in. But I’m already wet, and the minute he fills me, I feel so full.
The buzzing and vibrating don’t slow, and he starts moving.
His hands find my throat, and he grips it, bending me back as leverage as he continues to fuck me.
If he let me go, I would fall back. My hands wouldn’t be able to catch me.
“I may just keep you,” he states, his eyes hooded.
And for some reason, that is the only part that scares me.