Chapter Seven
Max
Iturn on the shower and go through the notifications on my phone.
There’s one from Cain, sarcastically congratulating me on my first fuckup, and saying that we’ll have a serious talk when I return.
I know exactly what that talk will look like; he’ll tell me I'm an embarrassment and demand I pay him so he can give the client an apology fee.
After three years with the Nighthawks, my bank account is nicely padded, and my bills are mostly nonexistent. I’m not worried about the financial hit I’ll take.
Then, there’s a message from Tobias, telling me that he’s taken care of all the footage and covered our tracks, but to hurry. Apparently, Dagon’s obsession with my Ember is well-documented, and he’s already put out a capture-or-kill order on me.
I can’t blame Dagon for his infatuation. I learned quite young that it’s impossible to spend time with Ember and not fall for her. She’s just… so unabashedly, unapologetically herself. Sassy. Witty. So damn smart, and beautiful enough to make my chest ache. She’s the whole package.
I might not blame Dagon for whatever obsession he has with Ember, but I am going to kill that motherfucker, slowly, because he hurt what’s mine.
The scars on her back… I nearly threw up when I saw them.
When I get my hands on Dagon, I might whip him to death…
except that’d be a bit too fast for my tastes.
No, I intend to make his death last months.
Maybe even years, if I can get him to the fortress alive.
First, I need to get my hands on him… and before that, I need to find out why the hell Ember is so eager to get back to him. I have to know what he has on her.
In the meantime, my priority is getting Ember to the fortress, and making it abundantly clear that there is no world in which she’ll escape me, and no reality that exists where we don’t end up together.
She’s mine—end of story. She was mine before I had any romantic interest in her, she was mine even after I thought she’d died, and she’s still mine despite her belief that she belongs to Dagon.
I answer Cain’s text, order Toby to gather all intelligence on Ember, and get in the shower to wash.
I take my time, letting Ember stew in silence and slowly come back to herself.
Images of the spanking I just gave her flash through my mind, and my hand travels to my cock.
She turned so pliant beneath my hands as I warmed her up, then spanked the hell out of her.
I recall the way her magnificent ass bounced with each hit.
The way the scent of her arousal perfumed the air…
Pleasure zips up and down my spine, setting my skin on fire. I brace one hand against the shower wall and wrap the other around my base. Fuck, she turned so beautifully submissive for me. Went straight into subspace. Stared at me with a dazed, please fuck me expression even while denying me.
Little Flame turned into an incredible woman, and I am going to fucking devour her.
It takes me an embarrassing four pumps before my balls tighten, my jaw clenches, and an explosive orgasm rips through me. I come so much I think I’ll die of dehydration, and as soon as it’s over, my knees go weak.
I’ve never had such a powerful orgasm—by myself or with a woman. And that’s all from knowing that the only girl I’ve ever loved is waiting for me, tied to the bed like a sacrifice, and she is every bit as incredible as I expected she’d grow up to be.
I finish up, shut off the shower, and wrap a towel around my waist. She stared at my body so hungrily earlier, I’m surprised she didn’t drool; no harm in giving her something to look at again.
I step out of the bathroom. Ember’s exactly where I left her, and exactly where I’d like to see her for the rest of our lives; tied to a headboard, waiting for me.
She glances me up and down, then pointedly turns away, averting her eyes. I chuckle under my breath. Flame always had a sparkle in her eyes when she looked at me; after she turned sixteen, that sparkle turned into a hungry fire. Time and memory-loss hasn’t changed that.
There are many things that have changed, though; no denying that. I still need to find out exactly how she lost her memories. There’s a lot I need to find out about her—my Ember has changed. The last five years have not been kind to her.
“It’s okay to stare,” I assure her. “Art deserves to be admired.”
“And dogshit deserves to be avoided.”
I bite my lip to hide a laugh. “Alright, Flame. I’m going to let you go. You’re going to take a shower like a good girl, and then, we are going to go to bed. If you fight, I’m assuming you want another punishment. I won’t be as kind to you next time.”
“Kind?” she hisses.
I don’t reply, letting her stew. Riling her up is fun.
I release her wrists with a few tugs, then fist a hand in her hair to stand her up.
She is far too compliant as I lead her to the bathroom, and far too tempting in only a bra and panties.
Her breasts are round, plump, perfectly suited to her figure, and so beautifully natural.
Her ass is more than generous, and bounces in a way that makes my mouth water.
Note to self: bite her ass the next chance you get. I might even put a tattoo over the bitemark.
Fuck, this power is heady. I can do anything to her. She’s my chosen—she’s mine to use however I please, and the knowledge that I own this incredible, stunning, powerful woman is nearly too much. I just came, and I’m already set to go again.
I make a split-second decision not to trust Ember in the bathroom alone. If I do, she’ll try to fight me, and then I’ll need to punish her again. I’m too tired for another fight, so I follow her into the bathroom, close the door, and lean against it. She blinks at me.
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” I reply easily, jerking my chin at the toilet and shower. “Do your business.”
Her nostrils flare. She’s so fucking adorable. “I can manage on my own, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Her jaw clenches. Christ, riling her is awesome. “And nobody’s stopping you.”
“Get out!” she snaps.
“Nope,” I respond. “In the future, if you want me to listen, check the tone and the attitude. It makes me hard, and you’re about to strip down and give me a show. My self-control has limits, Flame.”
“Fuck you.”
“Is that an offer?”
She scoffs, even as her cheeks brighten. “In your dreams.”
“Sweetheart, you’re already the star of all of them.” I wipe the grin off my face and give her a censoring stare. “Wash.”
“Go to hell.”
“Already there. Now that I have you, I don’t mind it so much. Strip, do your business, and wash.”
Her hands curl into cute little fists. I almost want her to come at me.
A fight is always good foreplay, and keeping myself from fucking Ember until she screams is already quite the challenge.
The only reason I’m holding myself in check is because tonight’s been enough of a shock for both of us…
and I want a little more time to observe and get to know Ember before giving into my desires.
Once I take her, I don’t think I’ll stop taking her until I’m ready to pass out… and considering the depths of yearning I’ve felt for her, that fuck-fest will last for days, if not weeks.
“Go on, Flame,” I encourage.
Her jaw tightens. “Will you at least turn around?”
No need to add insult to injury. I spin around, listening as fabric rustles… and then, silence. No sound of her ass meeting the toilet, or the shower running. Intuition raises the hairs on the back of my neck; I spin around in time for Ember to launch herself at me like a fucking missile.
She’s holding a plastic toothbrush in her hand, brandishing it like it’s a weapon of mass destruction.
I move quicker than she anticipates, catching her wrist and her throat, and pinning her against the wall.
The knot of my towel loosens, falling from my waist, but Ember doesn’t give into the distraction.
Her forehead meets my nose for the second time tonight, and this time, I feel an unpleasant crack.
I stumble back a step, momentarily dazed, but have the foresight to twist when she comes at me again. Agony explodes in my shoulder.
She buried the end of the plastic toothbrush in my skin. If I hadn’t moved in time, it would’ve been my fucking jugular.
I pluck out the toothbrush with a grunt of anger. The end of it is jagged; the crazy bitch must’ve torn it in half with her teeth.
Little Flame has turned into a roaring inferno. I’m equal parts turned on, infuriated, and reluctantly impressed.
I hear the rattle of the doorknob turning, but I move faster than Ember can anticipate, slamming her against the door, flattening her front to it.
She is fucking insane, and I am far too turned on by her fight for either of our own good.
“If you wanted my help in the shower, all you needed to do was ask,” I growl, wrenching her arms behind her back.
“Let me go!” she screeches, kicking and fighting like a wildcat.
I have zero doubt that she has, in fact, managed to kill men twice my size. She’s nimble, agile, fast, and thinks on her feet. If I’d left her in here alone, she might’ve actually found a way to kill me upon exiting.
“Nope.” I pop the p just to irritate her, dragging her over to the shower.
This infuriatingly insane woman braces her foot on the edge of the bathtub and leverages it to kick both of us back.
She almost succeeds in toppling us—I momentarily lose my balance.
I hear a loud screech of metal, and glance up in time to see her wrench the shower rod from the wall and shake off the curtain.
Then, she’s coming at me with another makeshift weapon.
I’m amazed and I’m reaching the end of my patience.
“Ember, baby,” I say, shaking my head. “You gotta stop trying to kill me.”
“Why?” she hisses, twirling the rod in her hands. “Do you finally have the sense to be scared?”
“No, Flame. I’m turned the fuck on, naked, and one second away from ripping your panties and showing you why I’m much more valuable alive. You should stop trying to kill me for the health of your cunt, because if you come at me again, I’m going to fucking destroy it.”
She bares her teeth at me, panting, cheeks flushed, perky tits rising and falling with each breath. Fighting naked really is distracting, and the best form of foreplay.
Her jaw flexes. “Let me walk out of here and I’ll let you live. You’ll get a head start to run from Dagon.”
“There is no fucking world in which I go anywhere without you, ever again.” I crack my neck.
“You want to kill me? Give it your best shot. But when you lose, I’m gonna punish you, and it’ll make the spanking look like a love-tap.
” I shake my head in mock disappointment.
“Here I thought we were making such excellent progress.”
Her grip tightens on the rod. That’s her one and only tell before she comes at me, trying to impale me through the chest with the metal.
I twist, duck, and weave around her. It’s never pleasant fighting an enemy unarmed, but Ember isn’t an enemy, and any contact with her is a blessing—even if it involves her trying to remove my head from my shoulders.
She’s good, I’ll give her that. She delivers a blow to my shoulder that sends pain radiating all up and down my arm; another to my cheek that causes an unpleasant crack and dazes me.
When she dips to swing for my knees, however, I manage to grab a fistful of her hair and kick her legs out from beneath her.
I’m genuinely pissed off now, pain radiating from multiple points in my body, blood dripping from my nose, and angrier than I ought to be while dealing with this girl.
I wrench the metal rod from her hands and toss it out of reach.
It’s become abundantly clear that I can’t trust Ember long enough to let her take a shower—even if I’m in there with her.
She’s a competent, smart fighter, and since I won’t truly fight back—the only way I know how to fight is to kill—I’ll always end up getting the short end of the stick.
“Are you done?” I snap.
She bares her teeth at me, wrenching away so hard she nearly tears her own hair out of her head. Fuck, this girl is feral.
Taming her will be more challenging than all the operations I’ve carried out since joining the Nighthawks, and so much more fun. For now, I need to subdue her.
I manage to wrangle her to the ground, straddle her, and pin her hands above her head.
She spits at me again; this time, I don’t flinch. Instead, I wrap my hand around her neck and press down on her carotid.
“I’d say I’m sorry about this, Flame, but I’m really not,” I say flatly, and press down. Hard. I have a duffel in the car with sedatives, handcuffs, and standard tools I always bring on ops—I just didn’t have a second to grab it before she decided to run and nearly get killed in the process.
This girl is going to be more than a handful.
She curses, screeches, and wriggles. I ignore her struggle. At this stage, she really did bring this on herself. I gave her a fair chance to play ball; she proved herself incapable of making nice for two minutes.
She goes limp after thirty seconds. I make quick work of carrying her to the bed, tying her down securely enough that I can slip out and grab the supplies I need, and step back to admire my handiwork.
She’s lovely unconscious, but I find I’d like her much more if she were awake, glaring daggers, and screaming profanities at me. We’ll have plenty of time for that once I get her back to the fortress.
I pull on my pants, grab my keys, and step out into the chilly evening air, bare-chested and glistening with a mixture of water and sweat.
Unbidden, my gaze drifts upwards, locking onto the star-studded sky. It’s been a long time since I’ve truly let myself enjoy a clear view of the stars—they’ve always held too many painful memories for me, but now, I get a moment of relief.
The night sky is a beautiful thing. It’s a canvas for the cosmos, and the backdrop for some of the most profound moments of my life.