CHAPTER 18 #2
I step back to simply look at her. Bound, blindfolded, and trembling in my shirt, she stands in the center of the room like a statue of broken defiance.
The psychological weight hits me with a dark, territorial thrill.
She isn't playing a goddamn part anymore.
There are no more lies. I have won. Trenton Cross thinks he's a genius tactician playing chess.
He has no idea he just handed me the one piece on the board I will never give back.
I pour a finger of bourbon from the decanter on the dresser, the ice clinking loudly against the glass as I watch her.
I have to wrestle with my own dark obsession, keeping my predatory instincts in check just long enough to draw this out.
I want to ruin her, but I also want to savor the undeniable fact that she practically begged for this ruin.
"Do you feel it, Alessia? The weight of it?"
"I feel... empty."
"I'm going to fill that space."
"On your knees. At the bed."
She obeys instantly. Her knees hit the plush rug with a soft thump, without a single ounce of hesitation.
She knows the rules now; she doesn't even try to cushion the fall. Her head is bowed, the blindfold hiding her eyes but her jaw is set tight. Her absolute obedience proves the federal conditioning has been completely overwritten by her devotion to me. The agent would have fought the command. The woman I’ve created only knows how to swallow it.
She called me by my name earlier. No more 'Falk'. Just Leon. That's the real victory.
"Yes, Leon."
"Good girl."
I step between her kneeling legs and slowly begin unbuttoning her shirt, starting from the collar.
I expose the sharp line of her collarbones and the frantic rise and fall of her chest to the cool air of the room.
I take my goddamn time with each button, the sound of them slipping through the holes echoing.
My knuckles brush her skin. She is completely reliant on my touch for orientation, her head tilting back instinctively as she waits for my next move.
The cool air hitting her skin makes her shiver, her body betraying her rising excitement.
My hand pauses on the middle button, my eyes raking over the black lace of her bra.
She’s so fragile and so lethal at the exact same time. It’s a fucking intoxicating mix.
"You’re cold. Are you shivering for me, or the room?"
"Both."
"Honesty. I like that."
I run my bruised knuckles down her bare stomach, feeling the tight muscles jump and ripple beneath her skin.
She shivers blindly, her breath hitching as she tries to track the movement of my hand without her sight.
The rough texture of my callouses dragging against her soft skin pulls a whine from her throat.
I lean down and lick the hollow of her throat, savoring the salt and sweat.
She’s like a live wire. One wrong move and she’ll snap, or she’ll melt.
"You're jumping, Alessia."
"I can't... I don't know where you are."
I lean in and drag my teeth over the sensitive skin of her neck, right where her pulse is screaming.
I bite her earlobe gently, making her gasp and arch her back.
I whisper filthy praises into her ear, telling her she’s a beautiful monster, praising the dark, analytical mind that planned tomorrow's slaughter without batting an eye.
I want her to love the monster she's becoming.
I want her to thank me for making her this way.
"Such a clever mind. Such a bloodthirsty heart."
"Leon, please..."
I stand up and strip off the rest of my clothes with efficient, brutal movements.
The sharp, metallic clack of my belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor echoes like a gunshot in the quiet room, making her whole body flinch in raw anticipation.
I kick my trousers aside, standing over her with absolute predatory dominance.
She’s begging now. We haven't even started and she’s already breaking apart.
"Do you hear that, Alessia? That's the sound of your choice."
"Fuck... just do it."
I grab her shoulders and push her back onto the center of the mattress.
She lands with a soft bounce, her tied hands trapped awkwardly beneath her spine.
I firmly part her legs, the motion rough and uncompromising.
I use my knees to hold her thighs apart, locking her in place.
She squirms against the silk bindings, her vulnerability absolute as she lies completely exposed to my gaze.
"Look at you. An agent of the law, spread out on my bed."
"There is no law here."
She’s right. There is no law. Only my will.
I trace the slick folds between her thighs with a heavy, demanding finger.
I find her completely soaked, her body driven wild by the combination of the sensory deprivation and the massive adrenaline crash from the office.
I circle the sensitive peak of her, hearing her breath turn into a frantic, wet whine.
My finger slips inside her just an inch, testing her readiness.
The heat and moisture between her legs is a dead giveaway.
Violence always was the best aphrodisiac for her.
We’re way more alike than she wants to admit.
"You’re dripping for me. After all that talk of safehouses and killing."
"I can't help it. Shit, Leon."
I slide two fingers deep inside her, setting a slow, agonizingly deliberate pace.
She arches her back off the sheets, her bound hands uselessly gripping the fabric of the duvet behind her as she tries to find purchase.
The sound of her wetness and the friction fills the room.
I use my other hand to grip her chin, my thumb pressing into her cheek to force her mouth open slightly, keeping her head dead still.
She’s so fucking tight. It’s like she’s trying to hold onto me with her entire body.
"Take it. Every inch."
"Don't... don't stop."
I abruptly stop all movement. I pull my fingers out completely, leaving her aching, wet, and totally empty on the very edge of the high.
I lean my weight over her, not touching her anywhere but her face.
My chest hovers just millimeters above her nipples.
The sudden lack of contact makes her thrash.
I demand she use my name. I tell her to beg her monster for exactly what the fuck she wants.
Watching her unravel in the quiet is the best part of this game.
"Say it. Who am I?"
"Leon... please."
"Please what? Use your words, Agent Heller."
"Please, Leon," she whimpers, the sound raw, broken, and completely devoid of pride. "Fuck... please fuck me."
I align my thickest part at her entrance, my own control hanging by a violently frayed thread.
I move my hand to her hair, grabbing fistfuls of auburn silk to ground myself.
I can feel her heat radiating against me, a literal siren call I can't ignore anymore. There it is. The total collapse. Christ, I’m going to ruin her.
"Say it again. One more time."
"Fuck me, Leon. Please."
I sink into her to the hilt in one brutal, dominating thrust that sends the heavy bed frame skidding an inch across the floorboards.
She cries out—a beautiful, ruined sound of pure physical relief that hits me straight in the chest, echoing loud in the cavernous room.
The intense friction of the entry and the feeling of her muscles clenching in shock nearly takes my breath away.
I bury my face in her neck, stifling a heavy groan of my own.
I’ve never felt anything like this. She’s fucking perfect.
"You’re mine. Do you hear me?"
"Yes... Christ, yes."
I set a relentless, punishing rhythm. My large hands grip her hips tight enough to leave deep bruises that will perfectly match the busted skin of my knuckles tomorrow.
Every thrust is a violent reclamation. It's my way to drive the FBI out of her blood and replace it entirely with me.
The rhythmic slap of skin on skin and the sound of her head hitting the pillow is the only soundtrack we need.
I'm engraving myself into her. She won't be able to walk tomorrow without feeling me between her thighs.
My sweat drips onto her chest, marking her in the dark.
"Forget them. Forget Cross. Forget the Bureau."
"They're gone. There’s only you."
I lean heavily over her, my chest crushing hers, whispering filthy, degrading praises directly into her ear.
My voice is a low, gravelly rasp. I tell her exactly how much I love the way she kills for me, the way she lies for me, claiming every fractured piece of her soul as my exclusive property.
She’s finally admitting it out loud. No more mask.
"My little executioner. My beautiful lie."
"I'm yours. I'm yours."
The absolute restriction of the bindings and the blinding darkness finally push her completely over the edge.
She screams my name, a high, piercing sound that shatters the last of the silence in the penthouse.
She breaks violently around me, her inner walls clenching and milking me with a desperation that nearly ends me on the spot.
Her legs lock tight around my waist, pulling me even deeper into her climax.
She’s shattering. I can literally feel her soul coming apart in my hands.
"LEON!"
"That’s it. Give it all to me."
With a guttural groan that sounds more like a snarl, I let go of my iron restraint.
I bury my face in the crook of her neck, my teeth grazing her sweaty skin as I spill deep inside of her with fierce, possessive finality.
My whole body locks up in the release. I collapse my full weight onto her for a moment, my breath coming in ragged, heavy heaves.
It’s done. She’s branded. Inside and out.
"Fuck. Christ, Alessia."
"Don't... don't move."