Chapter thirty one #2
“What kind of connected?” I ask slowly, trying to contain my temper. Nadia crosses her arms tighter over her chest.
“She’s Naoya Hattori’s niece.” That catches me off guard.
“The fuck?”
“She grew up around them.” Nadia’s voice sharpens.
“Which means she grew up around the Kingsmen. Around people with power, money, connections.”
“That doesn’t make her dangerous.”
“No,” Nadia barks.
“But it means she’s closer to this than you think.” I frown harder.
“You think the Kingsmen are involved in whatever this is?”
“Without a fucking doubt. I think everybody’s involved in this.” The way she says it made the tower suddenly feel frigid.
“So are we.”
“No.” Her voice takes on a lethal edge.
“Not like this.” I chuckle darkly.
“There it is again.”
“What?”
“You deciding what I can handle.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.” She argues.
“Yes, it is.” I saunter closer again.
“You keep acting like I’m too broken to survive the truth.”
“I’m trying to protect you.” She repeats in exasperation.
“I never asked you to.” I glare.
“You didn’t have a choice.”
“And you didn’t have the right!” I shout. The sound echoes violently through the tower.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
“You think this was easy for me?” She shoves me. Hard.
“You think leaving you didn’t rip me apart?”
“You made it look real fucking easy.” I snarl.
Something in her expression fractures just a bit. Good. I want her angry. Anger, I understood.
“I hated you,” I admit abruptly.
“For a long time.”
“Yeah?” She replies.
“I still do.” The confession settles between us. Ugly and toxic, but also honest and real. Nadia laughs coldly. Just once.
“Good.”
Out of nowhere, she snatches an ashtray and launches it at me. Instinctively, I catch it and use the momentum to throw it right back at her. It shatters against the wall beside her head.
“Careful,” I warn, chest heaving.
“Or what?” I cross the distance between us instantly.
“Or I stop being careful too.”
Something electric cracks violently between us.
Not love, but not hatred either. No, this is something worse.
Because this was always what we did best. Destroy each other.
Her hand grabs my shirt first. Mine wraps around her throat second.
Not enough to hurt. Enough to feel her pulse jump beneath my hand. Her breathing hitches slightly.
“There you are,” I mutter darkly.
“Fuck you.” She scowls. Then, she kisses me.
It’s violent. All teeth and anger and two years of unresolved devastation colliding together at once.
I kiss her back instantly because self-control stops existing the second Nadia Slade touches me.
My hands clutch onto her waist, shoving her backward into the giant clock face.
The gears behind it groan loudly as she gasps against my mouth.
In retaliation, she bites my lip hard enough to draw blood.
I chuckle against her mouth, half-insane at this point, but I can’t bring myself to give a fuck.
As if they have a mind of their own, my hands start removing her clothes piece by piece.
Jacket, top, and then her bra. When I get to her belt, I must have a sinister look on my face because she pauses.
“What?” She asked.
But I don’t answer. No, I show her instead. Show her how unhinged I have become. Show her what she’s made me become.
Roughly, I take her wrist and use the belt to tie it to one of the iron posts of the clock. I stop for a moment to take in my handy work, relishing in the sick, depraved pleasure of seeing my untamable wife at my mercy. My heart burns at the thought.
Because I never wanted to tame Nadia. That would be inconceivable. No, I just wanted her to let me in.
My eyes go from the restraints, run down her tatted arm, notice the pulse beating wildly on her neck, and meet her eyes. Shockingly, she’s not angry. She’s staring right back at me, completely calm apart from the feral hunger in those whiskey colored eyes.
Instead, she puts her free arm on the other post, lowering her inhibitions, and putting her guard down. Putting her trust in me. Fuck, if I still wasn’t so angry at her, it could’ve brought me to my knees.
“This one too.”
I don’t deny her.
Our eyes stay locked as I undo my own belt slowly, savoring this moment. I take my time tying her hand, making it tight enough to hurt. When it’s secured, I remove the rest of her clothes. Then, I turn away, bringing the chair and whiskey bottle over.
She doesn't flinch, doesn’t move a muscle as I sit and watch her, taking a healthy sip of alcohol. Doesn’t cower away or try to hide herself from me. That’s not my girl’s style. She would never back down from a challenge.
My girl watches me back. Watches my Adam’s apple work as I greedily gulp down the liquor. Notices the painful bulge in my jeans. No matter what has happened between us, we could never hide from each other.
“You’re dripping, daredevil.” I say, noticing the wetness on her thigh.
“You love it.” She replied pointedly. Laughing, I take another drink before sauntering over to her like a sailor being called by a siren.
Harshly, I clutch her jaw and press our lips together, letting the liquid trickle from my mouth to hers. She manages to swallow some, but several drops escape those enticing lips.
“You made a mess of yourself, daredevil.” She jumps slightly, not expecting me to bite her neck.
“I guess you’re gonna have to clean me up then.” She responded on an exhale.
“I think I will.”
I drag my mouth down the column of her neck, pressing a chaste kiss to the hollow of her throat, and following the trail of whiskey. I lavish both her nipples on the way and leave my mark across her ribs. Down and down I go, until I reach the last remnants of liquor right above her dripping pussy.
“Should I clean up this mess too?” I asked.
“Yes.” She answered.
“Hmm.” I lightly drag a single finger down her slit, making her tense up.
“Good.” I look up into her eyes, a dark grin on my face.
“Now hold still.”
That’s all the warning she gets before I thrust the neck of the whiskey bottle into her.
“Fuck!” She yells, fighting against the restraints.