60 #2
And I snuggle into her further as if she’s a teddy bear rather than a ruthless killer admitting to being open to slaughtering innocents without issue if she felt like it.
“I don’t care,” I mumble into her.
“You do not care . . .” she echoes slowly, as if wondering if I’ve gone insane.
And maybe I have, because I say quietly, “No, I don’t.
It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I .
. . I don’t like anyone dying, but the way you kill is .
. . beautiful. N-not that it’s good that anyone’s dead!
” I rush to add. “An innocent life lost always makes me sad to think about. But I just . . . It doesn’t bother me as much as it should when I see you annihilate someone like you do.
It’s only . . . impressive, a-and—and attractive.
And nothing you do has ever made me think negatively of you, e-even when I was terrified . . .” I admit with some shame.
Do my truths make me a horrible person?
I don’t know why I’ve never really been upset when she kills someone.
At least, I’m not upset with her herself, only at the fact that someone’s gone.
It doesn’t make sense to me. Admittedly, I’d prefer she didn’t kill anybody outside of the Games unless they truly deserve it or it’s necessary for survival like with those Exots at the Neutral club where we had to protect ourselves, but I know my love for her wouldn’t waver no matter what she does.
“No. It makes me want to keep you,” Ezla replies bluntly.
Jolting and pulling back enough to look at her face, I don’t have time to respond to the statement that’s provoked my heart to work on overdrive as Tate adds his own opinion in a deep rumble: “I love when you kill everyone, Havoc, baby—it’s so fucking hot.
I’ve cum in my pants so many times from watching clips of you online. ”
“Love, we’ve all fallen in love with you when we believed you’d kill us at any moment—”
“I still could.”
“—so there’s no need to question how much any of us want you,” Scotty finishes without a hitch after our Bonded’s informative words. “That’s not going to change no matter how many people you kill or how hard you try to scare us off. We’re all killers here.”
At the truth of his words, I dig my fingers into Ezla’s back, that familiar guilt panging through me as I remember the girl from my school . . . the way the Avri dagger sank into her heart . . .
My Bonded’s low warning growl stops those thoughts in their tracks.
My eyes round at the jealousy I feel from her, a tendril slithering through the bond, and I speedily discard any thoughts of another woman, even though I’d never think about another with any sort of romantic interest and wasn’t thinking about the girl from my school with anything but sadness and remorse for a life lost.
The small smile that pulls at my mouth is involuntary as my body sinks back into Ezla’s.
“But that’s our world,” Scotty continues gravely, though I don’t miss the way his own lips twitch at the exchange.
“And there’s no point lingering on it when we do what we need to to survive .
. .” He exchanges a look with Tiger, and I know there’s more to talk about here that they don’t want to bring up right now when we’re still being intimate, but I’m sure it’ll be mentioned tomorrow when Cooper demands more answers from our Bonded.
Looking back at Ezla, Scotty says, “We don’t love killing like you do—I’m not going to lie to you. But you already know that. Moreover, you kill during the Games. And your skills are stunning, admittedly one of the things that drew me into you—”
“I am certainly not opposed to butchering anyone outside of the Games.”
“And yet it wouldn’t change our feelings for you,” he fires back, and heads nod in agreement all around our group, including mine.
“Maybe it can’t be explained, but it’s true.
” Tipping his head, he adds, “And slightly concerning. Because if you pointed someone out and ordered me to get rid of them, I don’t think I’d stop to ask questions.
” He scrubs a hand over his face as if questioning the state of his moral compass just like I am.
But it’s as he said: this is our world. Nothing is black and white, and it’s especially hard to tell right from wrong here.
The truth of it is, I love every part of Ezla.
And there’s nothing wrong with that. I don’t need to be examined, my feelings explained.
Love is love, and nothing can change that fact.
“So if I threw a baby off a cliff, you would all be fine with that?”
Cooper’s brows shoot up. “Are you planning on throwing a baby off a cliff anytime soon, Vengeance?”
“Is the baby evil? Like shitting everywhere and keeping you up at night?” That’s Tiger.
Scotty drags both hands down his face. “I would much rather you not kill a baby, Love—seemingly evil or not. But . . .” He groans and mutters something about going to hell if there is one. “I don’t think I could stop loving you, even then. Though I do think that deserves a damn good spanking.”
“Hm. I am not feeling particularly inclined to kill any babies at this point in time.”
We all let out sighs of relief, shoulders sagging.
“But thank you for letting me know you give me free rein to do so if the urge ever takes hold. It is so appreciated.”
Scotty smacks a hand back to his face.
He’s going to have grey hairs soon, I’m sure of it.
“I will happily go on a killing spree with you, my darling Havoc,” Tate purrs.
Ezla tilts her head at him as if considering taking him up on that offer.
I do wonder if Scotty is now about to have even more to deal with . . .
But I lose that train of thought, lose the ability to do anything other than internally glitch, when Ezla’s lips meet mine with a gentleness I didn’t know she was capable of.
It’s as if this savage woman is trying her best, as if she cares enough, to make sure my first kiss is everything.
She doesn’t need to when she’s perfect in her every form, but my heart combusts at the effort and consideration, especially when I know it must be so difficult for her.
Ezla’s hands are cupping my face, and my tongue clumsily moves with hers after I come back online and part my lips to let her inside my mouth.
She doesn’t seem to mind how messy my movements are, tasting me like I’m tasting her, and my moan vibrates between us, sinking into her as I move my hands to her lower back, wanting to touch lower but too nervous.
But she must be in my head, because in the next second, my hands are right where they wanted to be, and I gasp as they clench on the soft globes of her plump ass, her smaller hands pressing them there, urging me on as she deepens the kiss.
Until a “My turn, Ezzy! Do me!” sounds out, and she’s stolen from me.
Tiger smacks a noisy kiss on our Bonded’s lips, and I can’t help but smile at the startled look on Ezla’s face.
I’m not too bothered by his interruption—he was my first real friend, my first brother, and I like to see him happy—unless I think about my need and desperation to remain as close and connected to Ezla as possible. Then I try not to squirm in eager impatience.
She snaps into motion when Tiger pulls away to beam at her with glazed eyes, gripping a fistful of his hair—which is met by an eager, excited squeal from him—and smashing their mouths back together with none of the tenderness she gave me, as if she’s punishing him for catching her off guard and not asking for permission.
Not that Tiger seems to mind with the shameless, eager noises he’s making as he kisses her back with as much finesse as I did.
Aka, none at all.
But, if I’m not mistaken, Ezla likes that. And she likes it a lot.
I think she’s loving both feeling and seeing the evidence that we’ve had no one before her, and that’s working wonders to make me feel little to no embarrassment about my complete lack of skills.
Keeping a hold of Tiger with one hand, Ezla turns her head back to me, lips meeting mine again, and I whimper, hips subtly rolling into her as my body begs for more.
“Oh, fuuuuck . . . so sexy, Ezzy. Please let us share you.” Ezla’s breasts smush to my chest as Tiger plasters himself to her back and squishes her between us.
I don’t know why that’s so hot, having her positioned like this, but it ramps my desire up even higher.
It feels as though we’re her two servants and she’s using us as her throne.
“I want you so bad,” he continues, lips messily pressing to her neck as his arms snake between me and her, wrapping around her waist. “Me and my bestie could treat you so good . . . You could show us what to do. Scotty, the bootyhole, said it was a bad idea because our cherries aren’t popped—”
“Men don’t have cherries to pop,” Cooper says, and I glance at him to see his brows furrowed.
“—but we could do it. Right, Bestie?” Tiger finishes.
I’m nodding before I can even think through what I’m agreeing to as our Bonded pulls away from me with arched brows, though she doesn’t get far with bodies pressed so close to her front and back. “Eager to work together are you, sluts?”
Tiger and I exchange wide-eyed looks over her shoulder.
We both nod hastily in unison.
“Hmmm . . .” Deliberately, she sends her arousal at the idea down the bond, and I whimper at the same time my best friend moans and writhes behind her. But then she purrs wickedly, “Maybe another time. Scotty is right that that will not be how it is for your first times.”