CHAPTER 6 FIZ
FIZ
It’s late when I get back to Caden’s house.
Dropping off always takes longer than pickup for me.
All the checking and incredulous looks and “You sure all the body parts are there?” No, dipshit, I’m risking my life just to give you half of it.
Maybe my patience was a little thinner than usual, I was anxious to get back to the enticing little blonde Caden’s caught himself.
Seriously, he’s not going to run right fucking through that? So much fresh meat to explore, so much soft skin to mar.
I walk in and Bob leaps up on me. I give him some loving, feeling bad for leaving him, but I wanted him here for Elodie. Bob’s great at sussing out the bad eggs. If he didn’t like Elodie, there’d be big trouble.
“What d’you think, boy?” I say, letting him lick my cheek. “How was she?”
“Scared to death of him,” Alf calls out.
The boys are on the couch in the lounge, Cade with his head buried in some mechanics book and Alf’s on the floor with his Lego set sprawled out on the coffee table.
Looks like he’s about to start working on Marvel’s Avengers Tower.
Since he got sober, he can’t just do nothing.
I’ve never seen the man chill for longer than five minutes before he has to leap up and get to work on something.
I bought a Lego set for him as a joke, telling him he has the energy of a kid so he might as well play like one, but surprisingly it tamed him.
It’s the only thing his mind can focus on.
And I mean for hours. It’s nice. Not to have him running rampant all the time, having all of us always treading on eggshells.
My own head calmed a bit from the change in tide.
I plop down on the sofa next to Cade and stretch out. “Really? I don’t see how anyone can be scared of this big melt.” I give Bob another scruff under his jaw.
“Well, she was. But he seemed to like her. Didn’t try to bite, at least.”
“That’s a good sign.” I turn to Cade. “How’d pickup go?”
Cade doesn’t lift his furrowed brow from the book. “Light work. Guy was already unconscious when I got there. You?”
I ruffle through my curls. “Same old. Paranoid minion fuckers asking a million questions.”
Even though we’ve worked with Drago and his minions for years now, we’ve never really got on. We’re civil, but we don’t exactly go out partying together. They’re annoying as fuck.
“You got it all though, right?” he asks, as if he’s not the one who bagged it all up, labelled, double-labelled, and then tagged it all for me.
I huff. “Yes, boss, I got it all.” Honestly, you forget one teeny tiny kidney for one job and suddenly I’m inept. Eager to change the subject, I turn to Alfie. “How’s Sleeping Beauty?”
“Sleeping. I assume. Haven’t checked on her since after lunch. Higgins ordered a drip for her. He’ll deliver it tomorrow.”
I turn to Cade. “You?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know what to say to her.”
“So,” I say, frowning, “you’ve left that fine piece of ass alone all day? She’s probably bored out of her mind! She needs a little entertainment.”
Alfie shrugs, not looking up from the Lego pieces on the table. “Honestly, she’ll probably sleep every chance she gets. She’s worn, battered. She needs a lot of rest from whatever she went through. Her body’s an absolute wreck.”
Caden huffs and slams down his book. “Boohoo. She better have her shit together soon. Her next job’s up in three days.”
“She’ll be able to work a computer, Cade, chill.”
Cade huffs and goes back to his book.
Alf adds, “You need to get her some clothes, by the way. Had to dress her in yours.”
“Mine?!”
I gasp. “Outrageous behaviour, Alfred.”
Cade ignores me. “Why mine?”
“We were already in your room.” He shrugs.
“Yeah,” I say, “it’s not like she’s your fiancé or anything. Gosh.”
Caden groans. “Fucking great.”
“Just order some for her. Or get Maggie to,” Alfie says.
Caden thinks for a moment. “She hasn’t earned anything yet. I’m not giving her anything until I know what her intentions are.”
Alf rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to his bags of Lego and instructions.
I look between the two of them, consumed with their cute little hobbies, while there’s a whole brand-new pussy upstairs. Alone.
I get to my feet. “I’ll go check on her.”
“Don’t, Fiz,” Cade says, a warning edge to his voice.
I hold my palms up. “No malicious intent here. I just want to make sure she’s doing okay, because I’m nice, I have empathy.”
Alf snorts. “No, you don’t. You have a raging hormonal imbalance, a Neanderthal brain and a reckless, impulsive attitude.”
“I’m offended to my perfectly healthy and stable core.” I place a hand over my chest. “I’m just gonna go peek in, see if she needs anything, make sure she hasn’t bolted out the window, and I’ll come back and report. Okay?”
Cade narrows his eyes. “That’s all.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” I take a mocking bow and try not to rush upstairs like a kid on Christmas. Unsupervised visitation with a vulnerable girl? I’m not one to pass up such an opportunity.
When I open the door, I don’t see a sleeping beauty in Cade’s bed.
I frown, go into the bathroom, and see she’s not there either.
Shit. She couldn’t escape, could she? I go over to the windows, knowing full well her body would be lying twenty feet below if she’d been desperate enough to jump.
Thankfully, she’s not out there, and the windows are locked.
I turn away, and that’s when I spot her. She’s lying on the floor beside the bed, all curled up into herself. Sleeping. Looking peaceful. Unbothered. Well, that’s interesting.
I stalk towards her, drinking her in. More of her skin’s exposed now in Cade’s T-shirt and shorts. I see bruises covering her legs and arms. She’s been held down, restrained, if the thick bands of discolouration around her wrists and ankles are anything to go by.
I kneel beside her, studying the other marks.
My fingertips brush over the damaged skin.
The one on her outer thigh could easily be a boot – steel-toed, by the depth of the bruising.
It’s way deeper than just surface level.
Looks agonising. Someone really went for it on her.
Moving up, her arms have little purple circles on them.
Evidence of being grabbed, pulled – dragged, perhaps.
What the hell did this girl do to deserve it?
I’m not one to rebuke a little discipline, but this shit is morbid.
I shake my head, not bothering to try to decipher it, I don’t really care. What I do care about is sitting between these two slim thighs, tucked beneath the shorts, cradled between her legs, harbouring warmth and rapture.
Just one look…
I test the depth of her sleep, rolling her onto her back, legs falling open.
She flops like a fish, no flicker of her eyelids when her head rolls to the side.
Good sign. I press my hand on her exposed inner thigh and apply some pressure on a bruise – still nothing.
I reposition myself between her legs, my dick twitching to life, heart rate picking up, skin heating.
Hooking my fingers underneath her waistband, I run them round to her sides, then tug the clothes down.
They come easily, gliding down her legs smoothly.
There’s something about a pussy. How no two are the same.
It’s like Russian roulette. Which ones are going to make my stomach twist in anticipation of tasting it, burying myself inside it.
And which ones are going to make me want to just stare at it in awe.
The artistry, the fine crevices of flesh and all those thousands of nerve endings hidden beneath the pink softness, just begging to be stimulated.
I love all pussy, obsess over it, actually. How I can manipulate it, twist it, wet it. How I can make it contract and cream and bleed.
Caden wants a cunt that’s pure, one he knows hasn’t been ran through and spoiled by a hundred cocks, just so he can ruin it himself.
He’s got a thing for marring the unmarred.
The majority of his body count is virgins, he collects them like rare coins.
Then he chews them up and spits them out.
Leaves them to pick up their own broken pieces, never to feel his cock inside them again.
I’ve seen girls walk into his bedroom then walk back out in states that make them unrecognisable. The guy’s a fucking sadist.
But for me, and most guys, a hole’s a hole.
Any cunt will have me falling to my knees to worship it, get my teeth on the clit and pinch, get my tongue along the slit and make the girl squirm.
Get my cock inside and watch the skin stretch and rip.
I’m a giver, and no girl can do anything to make my dick harder than by just lying there, being the perfect pillow princess while I devour the best meal that’s ever walked this earth.
Once the shorts are down, I see a neat, juicy-looking pussy. I can keep it that way. For now. I can leave the scene of the crime in the same state I saw it in. I just need to feel the warmth of her insides, just a little.
I give her one more test, prodding the deep purple bruise on her thigh.
Her eyes crinkle in a little wince, but that’s all.
I’ve got the green light. I turn my hand and rub her pussy all over, the warmth emanating from it going straight to my balls.
I let out a hitched breath. This is more like self-punishment, really.
But it doesn’t stop me. I’ve always been a type of masochist. I stroke back down, resting my palm on her clit, pressing a little, as I curl my middle finger inside her body.
Jesus fucking Christ. A long, strangled sigh comes out of me as the heat of her insides wraps around my skin.
I insert myself a little farther, feeling wetness coat my finger.
I clamp my lips down to keep these groans inside me.
God, it’s like the first time I’m ever touching a woman. Get a grip, Fiz.