Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
QUENTIN
M y fingertips tingled as my skin touched hers, trailing my fingers over her breasts and watching goosebumps spread across her skin. A little shiver ran through her body.
“I plan to take my time with you tonight, little moon,” I said. “I hope you know a thing or two about patience.”
Anora brought her hand to the front of my jeans, my cock already straining against my zipper, and palmed it, rubbing her hand slowly and teasingly.
“I’ve never been one to know patience,” she whispered.
I brought my hand around her throat, squeezing gently as a warning.
“Careful, baby. I want to take my time with you, and you’re making it hard to be a patient man,” I replied, my voice cold and wanting.
“Then I guess we’re both fucked,” she rasped, and I couldn’t contain myself any longer.
Without loosening my grip on her throat, I growled and thrust her against the kitchen wall to claim her lips. She tasted like sweet wine and bad decisions. I had never known a better taste to grace my tongue.
Well…besides the taste of her orgasm on my tongue.
I hummed against her lips, already thinking about tasting it again. I used my free hand to palm her breasts and feel her nipples through her bra. It elicited a sweet moan as she parted her lips, and I invaded her mouth with my tongue to deepen our kiss.
“You drive me absolutely wild , little moon,” I said, pinching her nipple between my fingers. “You haven’t left my mind since the day we met.”
“I’d like to say I’ve been able to keep you from my thoughts, but that’d be a lie,” Anora replied, sounding more like a mumble as our lips barely pulled apart. It was as if neither of us could stand to not touch the other.
Who was I to complain?
I worked my hand behind her back, finally letting go of her throat so I could undo her bra. I slowly let it fall to the floor and took in the sight of her bare breasts before me.
“You are absolutely perfect, little moon,” I whispered, words escaping me at the sight of her. I took her breasts in both hands, squeezing them. “You were made for me, every single bit of you.”
I leaned down and took her nipple in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the peak and getting off on the moan that left her lips. I could listen to the sounds she made forever. It was the soundtrack that was played in my mind on repeat.
“Quentin,” she groaned, already losing whatever bit of patience she may have had left.
“In time,” I teased, switching to her other nipple and taking my sweet time.
I trailed a line of kisses from her breasts and past her belly button, slowly peeling the dress from her body as I went. I pulled the fabric down over her ass and groaned at the sight of her bare pussy before me, no panties to be found under her dress. She was proving just how impatient she could be with the way she squirmed beneath me.
I grabbed her hips and lifted her to the edge of the kitchen counter before gently pushing her flat on her back and taking my rightful position between her thighs.
“Spread your legs, love,” I said, tapping the insides of her knees in a gentle command. I thanked the stars above that she had never been one to argue with my commands.
I took her in as she dripped with her arousal, and I licked my lips in anticipation. I looked up, my eyes connecting with hers and seeing nothing but a glazed look full of desire staring back at me.
It was one of my favorite looks about her, and one I would forever keep etched in my brain.
I couldn’t hold myself back any longer; I licked her slit and made her practically squeal as I ate her cunt without restraint.
“Quentin!” she yelled, and a part of me hoped that my neighbors could hear it.
“That’s right, baby, let everyone know who’s making you feel this way,” I crooned against her, resuming the work of my tongue against her clit.
I could tell by the way she gripped my hair and began thrusting her hips desperately against me that she was close, and I smiled as I continued to work her to the brink.
“Let go for me, baby,” I said in between assaults of my tongue. “Come on my tongue like I know you want to.”
I don’t know if it was the way my tongue worked against her or my words, but she screamed my name, her movements frantic, and her legs shook with her orgasm. I lapped up every last bit of her release, more plans already forming in my mind of everything I wanted to do to her tonight.
I looked up at her. Her eyes were closed, and her breaths came out in uneven pants, a flush across her cheeks.
“I hope you’re ready for me, love,” I said as I stood up and began to work the button of my jeans. “Because I plan to fuck you without mercy tonight.” I reached into my boxers to free my aching cock. “Repeatedly. You’re mine .”
Her eyes flew open, her breathing evening, and she took in my cock springing free.
The way she licked her lips was almost enough to make me lose it, wanting to feel her tongue on my skin.
As if she read my mind, she slowly slid from the counter and, without breaking eye contact, got down on her knees and fisted my cock in her hand.
I hissed through my teeth—if I thought seeing her lick her lips was enough to make me bust, actually seeing that tongue against the head of my dick increased my need tenfold.
“What are you doing, love?” I rasped, taking a mental picture of yet another moment in which she drove me wild.
“Returning the favor, Quentin,” she said before taking me fully in her mouth. My name on her lips was erotic, and I threw my head back as she worked me over, taking me again and again in the back of her throat.
It took everything in my being not to grab her by the hair and fuck her mouth, but I restrained myself and let her have this little bit of control before I took it all back when I fucked her.
Anora took me as deeply as she could, gagging herself on my cock, working her tongue on the sensitive skin underneath and fisting what she couldn’t fit inside her mouth.
“Anora,” I warned, close to the brink already. My control was barely hanging from a thread.
“Let go for me, Quentin,” she said, echoing my earlier words back to me. “Come on my tongue like I know you want to.”
Fuck it.
I gripped her hair in my fist and fucked her mouth, watching her eyes widen as I filled the back of her throat with my release, using her mouth to milk out every last drop.
She licked her lips again, and I bent down to kiss her, not caring if I tasted the saltiness of my own orgasm.
“Mm,” she hummed against my mouth.
I gripped her throat gently and pulled her into a standing position, once again against the wall.
“Hold on to me,” I growled, wrapping her legs around me as she circled her arms around my neck.
I notched my cock at her entrance, loving the feel of the wet heat of her pussy against me. It was almost too much. I once again felt my stomach begin to tighten.
I looked at her in a way of asking for permission, hoping I could communicate through my eyes how roughly I planned to fuck her.
“Ruin me, Quentin,” she whispered, and that was all it took before I plunged into her, causing her to gasp.
I held nothing back as I pounded into her again and again, harder and harder each time, wanting to be so deep within her, ruining her for anyone else. I may not have been her first, but I damn sure planned to be her last.
* * *
The longer I looked at Anora’s sleeping form, the more I regretted having to leave her behind to do the one thing that had kept me sane over these last few years.
I debated waking her up to tell her I was leaving, or even leaving her a note of some sort, but that would involve explaining where I was going, and I couldn’t do that quite yet. Not to mention she looked like she was sleeping so peacefully, her warm, smooth skin beckoning me back to bed.
But I couldn’t ignore this meeting that Brendan had so kindly arranged with Angel Santino, the son of the man whom I had murdered months ago, who was just as dirty as his father. According to Brendan, Angel had allegedly been trying to make contact with the Portland Slasher, claiming he wanted my help finding whoever killed his father.
Anyone with half a brain cell knew that he was baiting me, considering the news blasted the murder all over and made it clear just who had murdered Nico Santino. Either he thought that I was an idiot, or he knew that I would meet with him no matter what, curiosity too strong to deny myself the pleasure.
Brendan would argue that I was a fool to indulge in this meeting, but if I could take Angel Santino down tonight, I would be all the happier because of it. Angel thought that he was baiting the Portland Slasher, but in all reality, I was the one who was trapping him in my game.
I took one last deep breath, filling my lungs with Anora’s perfume that wafted from her skin before slipping out of the apartment and down to my bike that I kept specifically for occasions such as these. Nobody, including the cops, could catch a masked man on a crotch rocket. Not to mention it was easy to store everything I needed for my killings inside of the backpack I currently wore, or in the pockets of my cargo pants. Having everything packed in something small and easy to contain was also a plus in and of itself. Everything I needed to do my nighttime job was stored in the safe hidden in my closet, which I had built within the walls, making it virtually impossible to find unless they knew what they were looking for.
Luckily for me, I didn’t let too many people in my line of work into my personal life; even Brendan only knew me on a surface level, rarely having met me in person. I knew he had dug into every single thing about me, but I paid him nicely to turn the other way and keep his secrets about me to himself.
He was a fantastic hacker, which didn’t hurt when we stalked and murdered men with millions and had access to their bank accounts, using some of their blood money for the good of our mission.
You couldn’t miss hundreds of thousands of dollars when you were dead.
The hum of my bike was the only thing that filled my ears as I sped down the road toward the restaurant, the periodically flashing streetlights and the headlights of passing cars the only lights by which I could see. They guided me toward my destination, lulled me into a sort of calm trance. I could feel my heartbeat begin to slow, my breathing start to even out, a calm washing over me like it always did when I needed it to. I had perfected the art of training my body and my mind to do what I wanted them to exactly when I wanted. I probably should have gone to therapy after my sister was murdered and worked out how to deal with my anger and grief in a healthy way, but riding a fast bike to meet with the son of a man I murdered didn’t sound so bad either. Though I can’t say any sane therapist would agree that what I did during the hours of the night was healthy.
The restaurant wasn’t far from my apartment, but the ride was just long enough to soothe my mind and clear it of everything except for what I needed to do tonight. I couldn’t bring my feelings for Anora into a place like this with people such as Angel and his men. She was tattooed on my DNA, so I wouldn’t let her be forgotten entirely.
But if she was on my mind and distracted me even the slightest, tiniest bit, it could not only jeopardize the mission, but her safety as well. Any edge the creeps that I took down had on me, any indication they might have about my identity, was not an option. It was the worst-case scenario, something that I would never allow to happen.
Before I met Anora, it didn’t matter to me who found out who I was. The only family I had left was my grandmother, and it had been years since I had seen her. I didn’t believe her to be in danger, and that woman scared even me, so I would be interested to see anyone attempt to intimidate her. My grandma and I had rarely spoken since Leila died; she had done the best she could, but losing my sister had broken our relationship in a way that felt too hard to repair. We both blamed ourselves in different ways for her death, and one of her coping mechanisms was isolating herself from everyone and anything she loved so she didn’t have to go through the pain of loss again.
We all knew what I did with my grief.
Now I had someone I cared about more than even myself, and I would rather die than let someone not only use her against me but cause her harm because of me.
I parked my bike in the alley beside Chop Suey and checked my watch: 11:55 PM. I was five minutes early, but I could tell by the low lighting within and the quiet of the streets that Angel and his men were already inside. I took my time removing my helmet, my ski mask already in place and ready to go. All that I had left to do now was walk through the doors.
Instead of doing so, however, I waited until the clock struck 12:05 AM before pushing open the door and waltzing inside like I didn’t have a care in the world. I wanted them to think I didn’t know what I was doing, that I was lazy.
In all the time that I had been killing men, I had learned that it was helpful to be underestimated.
A table full of men sat in the middle of the restaurant, lighting pointed solely at them. I took a brief moment to scan the shadows and could see a man posted at each column, spread about six feet apart.
I laughed at the amount of security needed for little old me as I came face to face with Angel Santino at the head of the table. There were three men to his left and three to his right, and he sat calmly with his hands folded in front of him, face blank of any emotion.
But as soon as my laugh hit his ears, his eyes filled with anger, and I could tell I had struck a nerve. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t care what he thought of me. It further proved my point that he wasn’t a fan of mine and only wanted me here so he could eliminate me as revenge for the loss of his father.
“The Portland Slasher, in the flesh,” Angel said in an even tone, the irritation already vanished from his face. He was trying to come off as cocky and carefree. He couldn’t let on to the fact that he was plotting my death when our conversation had barely started.
I did nothing but nod, my annoyance building at hearing the nickname the media had made for me. I didn’t attempt to clean the streets because I wanted to be famous for it. I did it to avenge my sister, and to make sure that no one else’s sister, mother, aunt, or grandma had to die at the hands of disgusting men.
They could call me Batman 2.0 and I wouldn’t give two flying fucks. I did this for Leila, and one day my mission would be done, or I would be dead—whichever came first. It didn’t matter to me what anyone thought of me or called me; it only mattered how it all made me feel, and for the first time it didn’t feel like it was enough. For the very first time since this had all begun, I saw a different future for myself that consisted of a beautiful girl with hair like moonlight and a smile that could brighten even the darkest parts of my heart.
“I heard you were looking for me,” I answered, the voice changer making me sound borderline robotic, just as I had wanted. “You told my guy that you were looking for my help.”
“Ah yes, your help.” Angel chuckled darkly, and I could see out of my peripheral vision that his men were slowly but surely getting closer, circling me. I hadn’t expected him to work so quickly.
“That was fast, boss,” Brendan said in my ear, and though they couldn’t see, I smirked behind my mask. I never went into a meeting unprotected, and Brendan had been hacked into the feed of every single camera within a fifty-mile radius. I knew how many men there were in this building before I even got within a mile of it. I had an escape route already plotted, especially knowing this was going to go sideways. I also had small bombs planted around the perimeter, the trigger in my ear so all I had to do was say the word.
I came here to taunt Angel, just as I had all the other men I had targeted. I had come to show him that although I was one man, I wasn’t to be fucked with. I couldn’t easily be frightened, and I had dealt with much more dangerous men than even Nico Santino. I had been in the game long enough that I wasn’t falsely confident anymore. I knew what I was doing; all of the close calls and potential mess-ups had led to the greatness that I could work with today.
Okay, maybe I did sound like a cocky fucker.
“Aw, and we were just starting to have fun,” I teased, putting my hands in my pocket and bracing myself for what I knew was coming. “But just as your father discovered, all fun must come to an end.”
Before Angel or any of his men could react, an explosion shook the building, the diversion I needed to make my escape. My ears rang from the blast, but I was able to turn quickly and jog toward the door. A hand on my arm stopped me, and I didn’t give a moment’s hesitation before burying my knife in the gut of the man, and the one after him, and the one after him. I left a string of bodies soaked with blood leading to the door.
I then took half a second to enjoy the crisp night air before jogging to my bike, not bothering to wipe away any of the massacre from my skin, knowing a shower was the only relief I was going to get.
The only thing on my mind as I slid my helmet on and pushed the key into the ignition was going home to hold the woman I loved in my arms and pretend I had nothing to do with what had just happened.