Chapter 11 #2
“Not a problem.” I overrode the security with a subtle pulse from the Hammer, the door sliding open. “Your security system needs an upgrade.”
I stepped into her bedroom, still holding her against my chest.
The darkness of her room wrapped around us like a cocoon and my arms tightened reflexively.
I didn’t want to let her go.
But I needed to.
I lowered her slowly, letting her body slide against mine until her feet touched the floor.
Even then, I kept my hands at her waist, unwilling to break contact completely.
The same fingers currently resting against her fragile curves had just crushed a man’s vertebrae into powder.
I could still feel the phantom snap of bone echoing in my knuckles.
I was a lethal weapon, a machine built for slaughter, and yet she leaned into my grip. She trusted the monster holding her.
She was soaked through, her dress clinging to every curve, hair dripping onto her shoulders. In the dim light filtering through the balcony door, droplets caught on her eyelashes, making them sparkle. Her lips were parted slightly, her breathing uneven.
Perfect. Fucking perfect.
The killing had left something dark and hungry inside me. I could still feel the echo of it in my veins. The power, the control, the rush of eliminating threats. And now Annie was here, looking up at me, her body inches from mine.
I wanted to push her against the wall. Tear that wet dress from her body. Make her mine in every way possible.
My hands tightened on her waist.
Annie stared at me. “You didn’t kill them because of the season rankings, did you? You killed them because they threatened me.”
“Yes.” No point denying it. She’d seen the truth written in every line of my body when I’d snapped Technomancer’s neck.
Annie reached for my mask. For a heartbeat, I considered stopping her, a reflex born from years of hiding what I was. But she’d already seen beneath the mask. Seen the monster. Seen me.
I remained perfectly still as she pulled it away.
“There you are,” Annie whispered, her fingertips tracing the contours of my face.
Her thumb brushed across my bottom lip, the gentle pressure enough to light up every nerve ending in my body at once.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation of her hands on my face.
Fuck, I needed her to touch me. It was almost painful how gently she was touching me, like a whisper against my skin when every cell in my body screamed for more.
When her thumb traced my lower lip a second time, I caught it gently between my teeth, pulling it into my mouth. I sucked lightly, tasting rain and the faint sweetness that was hers. I opened my eyes to watch her face, needing to see her reaction.
Her pupils dilated, darkening those blue eyes to midnight. Her lips parted and a small gasp escaped.
I released her thumb, but kept her hand against my face, pressing it there with my own. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt you,” I said, my voice rough. “Without hesitation. Without regret.”
Not romantic words, not by normal standards. But I wasn’t normal, and neither was she. And I needed her to understand exactly what she was getting.
She didn’t respond. Instead, her fingers continued their exploration, trailing down my jaw to my throat where my pulse hammered beneath her touch.
“I shouldn’t want this,” she murmured. “Not after everything.”
“But you do.”
“Yes.”
Fuck restraint. Fuck patience. Fuck the elaborate plans I’d made to win her back properly.
I crushed my mouth against hers, swallowing her gasp as I backed her toward the bed. Her hands fisted in my hair, pulling me closer as she opened for me. The taste of her, rain and wine and Annie, flooded my senses.
I broke the kiss only to drag my mouth down her throat, feeling her pulse race beneath my lips.
“This isn’t how I wanted to take you,” I confessed against her skin. “But fuck, Annie, I want you.”
Her fingers dug into my shoulders, her body arching against mine. “Then take me,” she breathed.
I pulled back, my breath ragged against her lips. The killing high still burned through my veins like liquid fire, making my hands shake with the need to claim her. To mark her. To fucking own her.
“Annie,” I managed, my voice a raw scrape. “I shouldn’t.”
I pressed my forehead against hers, fighting for control. The monster inside me wanted to take her. Hard. Violently. A continuation of the violence I’d just committed.
She deserved better than that.
I started to pull away, but her hands caught my face, forcing me to look at her. Her eyes were clear, seeing straight through me like they always did.
“I know what you need,” she whispered, her thumbs stroking my cheekbones.
I closed my eyes, unable to bear the weight of her gaze. “You don’t understand what’s happening inside me right now.”
“I do.” Her voice was steady, certain. “You just killed two people protecting me. You’re riding that edge between control and chaos.”
My eyes snapped open. “And that doesn’t terrify you?”
She shook her head. “You need an anchor,” she continued, her fingers sliding into my hair. “Something to bring you back. Someone to ground you.”
She understood. She fucking understood.
“Let me be that for you,” she whispered.
The restraint I’d been clinging to broke. My hands went to her thighs, shoving the wet fabric of her dress up until I could grip the bare skin beneath and lift her.
Annie wrapped her legs around my waist immediately, locking her ankles at the small of my back. The position pressed her heat directly over my cock.
“Fuck,” I growled, carrying her toward the bed.
I laid her on the mattress, following her down without breaking contact, my body covering hers. Her fingers tightened in my hair, pulling my head back so she could look into my eyes. “I know what you are,” she said, her voice low and fierce. “I’ve always known.”
I crushed my mouth against hers again. The kiss was violent, all teeth and tongue and desperation. I bit her lower lip hard enough to make her whimper, then soothed the sting with my tongue.
Her nails raked down my neck, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I growled into her mouth, grinding harder against her.
“I want to fuck you until you can’t remember anyone but me,” I confessed against her lips, rolling my hips in a slow, deliberate thrust. “Until you forget every man who came before me.”
She arched against me, her head falling back against the bed. “There’s only you,” she gasped.
Only me. The possessive thing inside me roared in satisfaction.
I buried my face in her neck, breathing in her scent as I continued to rock against her. Each thrust drew a small, desperate sound from her throat.
“Tell me you want this,” I demanded. “Tell me you want me.”
Her legs tightened around my waist. “I want you,” she gasped. “I want you.”
I reached up, tracing the outline of her lips with my finger. Her lipstick, that deep red I’d been staring at all evening, was smeared from our kiss. The color looked better this way. Messy. Claimed.
“Beautiful,” I murmured, as I dragged my finger across her bottom lip.
Annie’s teeth caught my finger, biting down just hard enough to make me freeze. Her eyes locked with mine, daring me to pull away. I didn’t. Couldn’t.
Then she sucked my finger into the wet heat of her mouth.
“Fuck,” I hissed, my entire body going rigid.
Her tongue swirled around the tip of my finger, the slick warmth making my cock throb painfully against my suit.
Each deliberate stroke of her tongue sent images flashing through my mind—Annie on her knees, those perfect lips stretched around my cock, her tongue working the same magic she was demonstrating now.
The wet suction of her mouth combined with the slight scrape of teeth had me grinding against her, desperate for friction. The mattress creaked beneath us with each thrust.
I pulled my finger free with a wet pop, replacing it immediately with my mouth, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. She tasted like expensive wine and desire.
Intoxicating, addictive. My hands slid higher beneath her dress, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs as I pressed into her harder.
Wine.
The thought pierced through my lust-fogged brain. She’d been drinking wine.
She’d had four glasses, minus the swallow I’d taken myself. And she’d barely had anything to eat even with the addition of the steak before the attack interrupted everything. Then the adrenaline spike.
Fuck.
The logical part of my brain, the part not currently consumed with the need to bury myself inside her, started screaming at me. Something was wrong. This wasn’t right.
If I fucked her tonight, the alcohol would give her an out tomorrow. She could blame the adrenaline. She could blame the wine. I refused to give her that escape. I wanted her to wake up in the morning, stone-cold sober, and carry the weight of knowing she willingly spread her legs for me.
I broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at her face. Her pupils were dilated, her breathing uneven. She looked drunk, maybe not on just wine, but on adrenaline and relief.
“Annie,” I said, forcing myself to pull back fractionally. “You were drinking.”
She blinked at me, confusion clouding her eyes. “What?”
“The wine. At dinner.”
Her fingers were still tangled in my hair, her body hot against mine. “So? Does it matter?”
It mattered. Fuck, it mattered.
I closed my eyes, summoning every ounce of self-control I possessed.
“You’ve had too much to drink,” I said, my voice rough. “And you’re coming down from an adrenaline high.”
My brain felt like it was being torn in two, logic and lust waging a fucking war inside my skull. The monster in me, still hungry for blood and sex, screamed to take her. Hard. Fast. Now.
If she were anyone else, I’d already be inside her. I’d fuck her until the violence in my veins found release in her body.
But this wasn’t anyone else. This was Annie.
My Annie.
“Cipher,” she whispered, her fingers tracing my jaw. “Don’t stop.”
I caught her wrist, my grip firm but gentle. “You’re drunk.”