7. Hector
7
HECTOR
T he sound of gunfire echoes through the safehouse. Three rounds. POP! POP! POP! I roll my eyes and continue tuning the guitar in my lap, trying to find something to smooth over my frayed nerves. No, I did not think that Emelia would actually shoot me in the range that day, but the look in her eye had been enough to give me pause. And a hard-on from Hell. I did not expect to be so turned on by her display of power.
Another two rounds pop off, followed by a guttural shriek. So much for fucking peace and quiet today. I grip the neck of the guitar and stalk out of the room to find the she-demon responsible for ninety-nine percent of my problems. My eyes narrow as I approach the conference room she uses as a lair. I can see through the open door that there are papers littering the floor. Some are still whole, but most have been ripped to shreds.
Emelia is standing with her back to the door. Her shoulders are tense and her whole body heaves as she struggles to calm her breathing. I can see her finger tapping on her thigh to count out the breaths. My eyes follow the chaos around the room. There are photos pinned to the drywall, connected by various colored strings. The display stretches across the wall that the door is on all the way to the wall directly across from me. It’s enough to make any conspiracy theorist happy. Some of the images have been scratched out with a permanent marker, while others have mustaches and monocles drawn on them.
My eyes roll again at the sheer insanity that is this project of hers. As I step further into the room, my toe kicks against an empty bullet casing, sending it skittering across the floor. Emelia whips around, raises her gun, and fires off three rounds. Her eyes are wild and red rimmed.
I don’t flinch away or even react as the bullets embed themselves in the wall six inches from my left ear. My teeth sink into the inside of my cheek as I take her in. Her chest is still heaving, pulling her black Henley shirt tight across her breasts. Her eyes are dull and haunted, her face pale as she regards me without a hint of emotion, and her long hair disheveled. “I’ve hit a dead end,” she says flatly, and drops the gun to the floor.
I’m in front of her before I even realize my feet are moving. Her body sways from side to side before she collapses to her knees. I lean my guitar against the desk and wrap my arms around her. She sinks into my embrace and as I tighten my arms, I feel her body trembling. “You need to leave this alone,” I whisper, and press my cheek to the top of her head. My heart feels like it’s stretching and shrinking at the same time as I hold her in my arms like this.
This stone cold killer. This unyielding queen. This meticulous assassin.
Beaten. Broken. Defeated.
Drowning in the ashes of her haunted past.
“I can’t,” she sobs and grips the neck of my shirt in her fist. “I can’t abandon them.”
“Your parents are gone, Little Bird. Diego is gone,” I say gently, and hold her tighter as she lets out a sob at Diego’s name. “They wouldn’t want you to drive yourself to madness like this. Let them go.”
“I can’t,” she whispers again and inhales sharply. “I can’t just leave them dead. I want them avenged.” Her body shudders with silent sobs.
“I know you do. Right now, let’s just breathe and get through this. Then we can work on everything else later. You can’t be all snotty and plan a grand mob-style throw down.” I brush her hair out of her face and she lets out a weak giggle followed by a few deep breaths. My eyes meet hers and she rests her cheek against my palm. My entire body goes taut as the air between us shifts.
Emelia wipes the tears and smeared mascara from her cheeks and pulls away with a sigh. “Thank you,” she whispers. “You’re the only one that ever sees me like this.” She waves her hand in the air. “Weak and vulnerable.”
I let her stand and straighten out her clothes, considering for a moment if the idea in my head is as bad as it sounds. Fuck it. “Allow me to return the favor, ma’am,” I say, adding a drawl to my already thick accent. I walk over and pick up my guitar, strumming a few chords to warm up. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t speak. I sit down on the desk and my fingers glide across the strings, playing a rhythm that I memorized a long time ago. Then I clear my throat and sing the first few verses.
“Through your darkness, my beautiful witch,
Your wicked words cast a spell.
You’ve got me captivated, my beautiful witch
Your enchanting words, I can’t dispel.
You’ve bewitched me, my beautiful witch
Your wicked words cast a spell.
I’m powerless to fight,
For your sinfulness I fell.”
Her eyes widen even further and her mouth parts in an adorable little ‘o’ as I play through the first verse. Then she smirks as I finish off the last line. “Do you think I bewitched you?” she asks softly, and steps closer to me as my fingers dance across the strings, her sparkling eyes never leaving mine.
I shake my head and sing another line. “You’ve got my heart, little witch, within your grasp. You’ve got the power, little witch, you just have to ask.” My hand stills and the last notes fade into the silence of the room. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, like we’re willing the other to break the silent spell between us. I sure as Hell am not going to kill this moment.
Emelia steps forward and takes the instrument from me, leaning it back against the desk. Her eyes drop to my lips as my teeth sink down into my lower lip, trying to keep a hold on my self-control. I’m about three seconds away from just throwing caution to the wind and claiming her lips with my own. I wonder if she tastes as sweet as I imagine, or if she has that viscous bite that is uniquely her.
“Do I bewitch you, Hector?” she repeats and the way she says my name has my cock standing at attention in a heartbeat.
And then I snap.
Fuck it all the way to Hell and back.
I slide my fingers up the back of her neck and grip the hair at the base of her skull. “Like a fucking sorceress,” I growl, and pull her between my open thighs, claiming her lips in a bruising kiss.
Emelia arches against me and nips at my lower lip, sinking her teeth into the skin hard enough to draw blood. I shiver and move my tongue against hers, letting her fill all of my senses. She tastes like blood, tears, and sin. I know I shouldn’t crave her like I do because she belongs to them, but dammit if I don’t want a piece of her dark soul too.
My hands drop to her waist and pull her hard against me so that she can feel every inch of me. “I want you,” I growl in her ear and smile as a shiver snakes down her spine.
Her lips drop to my neck and she peppers light kisses across my skin before sinking her teeth into my pulse point. “Hayden and Declan,” she says breathlessly.
“Will share you with me,” I state pointedly, and reclaim her lips. “I’ve always been yours,” I whisper to her, and grind against her again. “And I will always be yours.”
A small moan escapes her as her tongue traces across my bottom lip. “Have you?” she asks breathlessly. “Prove it.”
I lean back and pull a small dagger from its sheath under the sleeve on my left arm. I flip the dagger in my hand so that I have the blade pinched between my thumb and forefinger with the hilt presented to her. “Mark me,” I whisper, and feel my cock throb in anticipation.
Emelia wraps her fingers around the hilt and grins wickedly up at me. “I can’t tell if you’re brave or stupid. Either way, you know I’m deadly with this.” She taps the flat edge of the blade against my chest, right above my heart.
“Make me bleed for you,” I whisper and rip my shirt over my head, revealing my bare chest. My pants are stretched so tight over my cock that it’s painful, but there’s no way in Hell that I am moving a single muscle. “Cut out my heart,” I urge her and nod toward the blade. “It’ll still beat for you, Little Bird.”
She traces the tip of the knife from one scar to another across my chest. I close my eyes and let out a low groan when I feel it knick my skin right above my left nipple. “Will it?” she breathes, and pushes the knife in further.
I lean back on my hands and moan as she drags the knife across my skin. I can feel my blood oozing down my chest, but I don’t open my eyes. I let her have her moment. My cock jumps as she lifts the blade and then starts again. I can’t help but wonder what she’s carving into my flesh, but all those thoughts leave my mind when she drags her tongue across my nipple and through the trails of blood.
My eyes shoot open and a shudder racks my body as she flicks her tongue across one nipple and then the other. Her cheeks are flushed and her chin is stained with my blood. She looks like a fucking vampire queen. Her fingers trail down my abdomen until they reach my waistband. She stops briefly before continuing without looking at me, like she is making sure this is really the road she wants to go down.
I lift my hips and let her pull my pants and boxers off and smirk as she tosses them carelessly over her shoulder. Then she reaches forward, pushes her fingers through the fresh wound on my chest to gather my blood, and then reaches down to stroke my cock in a slow, torturous motion.
My hips jump and I groan low in my throat as she squeezes me tightly between her blood-slicked fingers. I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long that I’m already close to exploding in her grasp. “Stop, stop, stop,” I plead as she pumps my shaft faster.
Her lips split into another wicked grin as she twists and pulls her hand faster and faster until I feel my spine begin to tingle. My hips buck and my stomach dips as I feel myself being dragged to the edge. I close my eyes and bite my lip as she squeezes. Just a few more pumps and I’m done for. My cock throbs heavily in her palm, a drop of precum leaking from the tip as it begins to swell with my upcoming release.
And then she lets go and steps back. Her teeth sink into her lower lip as she watches my cock pulse with need. Wicked little bird. I look down at my blood coating my skin. My stomach dips again as she steps out of her clothes and pushes me until I’m on my back on the desk. “You’re mine,” she says and traces the LB that she carved into my chest, right over my heart.
Right where she belongs.
Where she’s always been.
“I’m yours,” I whisper and groan loudly as she sinks down onto my aching cock. My eyes cross in pleasure as her tightness envelopes me. “Holy fuck,” I mutter, and grit my teeth as she slides up and then back down, taking me deeper. “You’re so tight.” The sensations are too much. It’s tight and wet and so warm. “It feels so good.”
Her eyes find mine and she cups my face between her palms. “Have you never done this before?” I feel the stickiness of drying blood on her skin, and I know that she’s smeared my blood across my face and through my beard.
My eyes close as I shake my head. I met her as a teenager and knew she was it for me, so I never bothered pursuing anyone else. I just watched over her and waited for her to realize that I love her. A deep blush colors my face and neck as the embarrassment surges forward. “I only wanted you,” I admit quietly and then groan as she rotates her hips in a figure eight motion.
“Oh, Hector,” she whispers and kisses me gently, her lips coaxing mine open as her tongue strokes mine. She pulls her legs up until her feet are planted on either side of my hips. “Enjoy the ride, Big Guy,” she moans as she slides all the way off and then drops back down, taking me all the way inside her.
“Oh my fucking God,” I groan and buck my hips up against her. Why had I waited so many years to sing to her? I could have had this forever ago. My spine starts to tingle again and I feel my balls tightening. “I’m going…Oh, baby… I’m close…” I can’t even form a coherent sentence as she bounces on me.
My eyes open as I watch her ride me. Her pale skin stained crimson with my blood. Her tits bounce up and down as she moves. Her head falls back and her lips part in a sinful moan as she uses my cock. She can use me every Goddamn day if she looks and sounds like that when she does.
Her eyes meet mine again as she moves her hips harder. “Give it to me,” she demands, and digs her fingers into the carving on my chest. Pain flares through me and I see white, but it only lasts a second before it blossoms into the most erotic pleasure I’ve ever felt.
“Fuck,” I shout and buck my hips up against her. I grab her hips and thrust into her so hard that she falls forward into my chest. I can’t stop. My hips piston into her as her walls flutter and clamp around my cock. She moans and I feel her squeeze me even tighter. My vision fades to white as I thrust up and still, exploding inside her in the most earth shattering orgasm I’ve ever had.
Emelia quivers around me as she comes down from her pleasure. I can’t feel my legs and my chest is burning, but I can’t move. My mind and body no longer belong to me. “Are you good?” she asks and slides off me.
I groan at the loss of heat and immediately want to grab her and bury my cock back inside her just to lay here for a little longer. “I have literally never been better.”
She chuckles and pulls her clothes back on. The world shifts to black as she tosses my shirt on top of my face. “Let’s get that some ointment so it doesn’t get infected.” She points to my chest. “We also have a lot to unpack.”
I lift my fingers and trace around the clean edges of the letters. A small smile touches my lips. She’s not wrong. We basically have an entire U-haul trailer worth of shit to unpack after what just happened, and for the first time, I’m excited about unboxing all the shit I’ve kept locked away for so long.