A pretty girl in pretty shoes.
Alone.
Her breasts bounce in the sweet pink sweater with a teasing v-neckline. Her charcoal gray skirt clings tight around her hips. The curve of her legs compels my hand to grab my hardening shaft as I gasp at the sight of sexy black heels with seductive rhinestone straps.
In the shadows, I eye her cautiously until she disappears, and I slump to the floor. “Fuck,” I mumble, losing my fight against the desperate urge. “Fuck it.”
I hop up, wash my hands, arms, and face because I must be presentable. Nothing must be awry. I am part of The Unholy after all. Slipping out the back door, I walk up the creaking, old metal stairs and knock on the door I pounded on an hour ago.
She answers.
Her beautiful smile and vibrant eyes send a jolt to my cock. I’m going to fuck this girl. I’m going to pin her down, muffle her screams, and thrust my ache inside of her womb. She won’t have a choice. She doesn’t get a vote.
Cristos is not a democracy.
“Hi, Nicky!”
She happily chirps my name, not understanding the malice I plan. Her unsuspecting innocence is the best part.
“Hey, is Sal here?”
He knew before me.
“No, he isn’t,” she volunteers. “But I just brought home dinner. Are you hungry?”
I flip my bangs out of my face and smirk like an angel concealing the devil inside. “I’m always hungry for a good meal.”
And a nice pair of heels.
I enjoy the meal with the barely legal girl. My dick throbs at how scrumptious she will be. How tight, fresh, and unused is she?
I’ll find out myself after we finish the zeppole. Her lips and fingers are dusted in powdered sugar when I take her hand. She pulls away, but I pull her wrist to my mouth and lick the sugar from her fingers.
“Nico…you shouldn’t be doing this,” she says with a slight tremor in her voice. I silence her with a kiss. I gnaw at her bottom lip, deliciously honeyed, and she struggles against me. “You’re my step br…”
He knew before me.
Slapping her face, I stop her efforts by grabbing her arms, sliding my hands down to her waist, and tossing her over my shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she cries woefully, acknowledging the beast she invited to supper. I stride to the bedroom with her punching my back and attempting to kick my schnads. I toss her on the bed with a thump, and she dashes towards the floor. Before she falls, I careen on top of her, shielding her fight with my weight.
“You can’t leave me,” I mumble, lost in the moment. My fingers undo her sweater, exposing her breasts trapped within a black lace bra. My dick pounds with wanton lust, but I take my time. No one can stop us. We are caught in a timeless assault. “Where is he?”
She grits her teeth as the tears drip from the corners of her eyes, drawing lines through her hair to the white pillow beneath. She’s so magnificent like this, captured under my cage.
What I wouldn’t give to keep her here…my pretty little angel…my submitting sex slave.
I’d feed her and bathe her and dress her. I’d leash her until she was trained and take her for walks in the sunshine. I’d molest her at midnight, and she would be mine—all mine. I’d never divvy her up with anyone else. I’d get her fixed so I could fuck her like a madman and never have to share with any snot-nosed, grumpy little hellions. I’d be wild and free with her in my possession, but fastidious in her maintenance.
My pretty girl would never want for anything.
I smooth my hand over the ripples of the fabric and squeeze her breast in my palm. “He’s in Ireland,” she admits, sobbing. She’s stopped struggling, giving up the fight. It didn’t take her long. “Please don’t kill me.”
With a maniacal grin, I ask, “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” she howls before whipping her long, stiletto talons towards my face. I sway as she misses, and I grab her wrist, pinning her to the bed.
I’m angry now. She wants to hurt me. And that won’t do. “What the fuck are you thinking, bitch? Do you want it? You want it, right fucking now?”
A dire moan pours from her lungs as she understands the consequences of her actions. I cannot let this pass idly by. I cannot let her believe she has a chance to escape my grasp. “Why are you doing this, Nicky?”
“Because there is no other choice. I’m going to get up now. You will stay put. Or you will give me no choice.”
Her blue eyes shine, puddling with fear, as she whispers, “If I stay, will you kill me?”
“Nah,” I reply, lying as my hand drifts over her skirt. “We’re just going to have a party. Don’t disappoint me.”
“I won’t,” she sniffles as I slowly get up. I rummage through the chest of drawers, searching for his ties. I find them hanging in the chifforobe. Clenching a couple, I spin as she swings the lamp at my skull with a harrowing scream. I deflect, anticipating her rebound.
She isn’t genetically predisposed to be meek.
The crystal light crashes to the ground—slivers of jagged glass sprinkle like diamonds over the polished cement. I lunge towards her, and we fall in tandem to the ground. She agonizes in pain upon our smash. I straddle over her midsection, holding her wrists in one hand as I loop the tie around them and knot it tightly.
Part of the problem is solved as I smack her cheek. “You don’t disobey, ever!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she mutters. “It won’t happen again!”
“You’re damn right it won’t!” I tug her skirt up and unzip my jeans before ripping her panties from her skin. I thrust in hard and determined as she screams. I cover her mouth with my palm, and she bites down hard. I backhand her. “Fucking behave and take it, you whore!”
“No!” she howls as my hand wraps around her throat. I could choke her to death while I fuck her. The idea festers in my mind as I imagine her glossy eyes turning hazy. I’d still be screwing her corpse long after she was dead.
I spend the next hour having my way with her body and depleting all of her energetic light. She’ll understand the darkness and never be the same. When I finally unload inside of her, the explosion sends my torso flopping on top of hers. “You’re so beautiful. I don’t want to kill you.”
“So don’t,” she whispers. “Let me live to see another sunrise.”
“I can’t, pretty girl,” I mumble, fraught with dolor. “I can’t because we’re bound in the shadows.”
“Yes, you can!” she pleads. “Please…”
“I can’t keep you forever, and I won’t let them have you again,” I sigh, glancing around the room. “They don’t understand the way I do. They don’t know you’re a cruel girl…they don’t know how you will grow up to be one of the whores in the court doing horrendous things…just like my sister…it has to stop…it has to stop…it has to stop…”
“Please, Nicky…don’t do this…”
I reach for a long shard from the lamp before thrusting my dick into her again. I pump fast and cut my hand. Dripping my blood all over her breasts, I close my eyes and mutter, “So full of love.”
I jab the jagged piece of glass into her side as she wails beneath me. She’s pinned by my dick and weight as I release again. I silence her hollering with my hand as her blood froths between us.
Fluids we share.
Contamination we spread.
On the floor of the bedroom, I feel the vibration of someone running up the stairs outside, and shortly after, I hear the twist of the knob.
“Fuck, Skeeter,” I mumble, getting up as she groans from the shifting of weight. From her abdomen, red gushes stain her pink sweater. I pinch her nipple one more time and snatch her panties from the floor. “So good, but I have to go, sweetheart. We’ll finish this another time if you make it, Hannah Cruz.”
The daughter of Victor “Saint” Cruz and Trudy Diaz gasps as I sneak away through the bedroom window and climb down the fire escape. I run through several alleyways until I’m forced to stop, t
oo aroused by almost getting caught.
… he knew before me….and there is no forgiveness…ever.
Against a brick building, I stand like I am taking a piss, smelling the lace, and rapidly stroking my dick with my bloodied fist as the head scrapes against the hardened clay texture.
God, I’m going to need another.
48
w H i P P e ∂
The Master
“Who do you think, did it?” I ask Quinn over dinner in my hotel room. “Is it possible Father Thomas has enough power to pull this off?”
“He’s not a man I would want to mess with,” he replies, chowing down on his rare cooked steak. “If you cannot find the answers you are looking for, you may not have another choice but to concede to his wishes.”
I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling. “You, a man of the cloth, are telling me that I may have to kill a priest?”
“I would hate for it to come to that,” he says with a mouthful of the beef. “He’s a hell of a golfer.”
I blink and open my mouth to say something. I close it. And reopen it again. There is no come back for that. I stare at my salad, which I’ve barely touched. “What about Carrick?”
“What about him?” he shrugs, swigging back the red wine. “There is nothing, Sal. He’s not fit to run Boston, a bordello, or for that matter own a border collie.”
I snicker, “Is he, Lassie?”
“More like dead weight, and Lassie was a regular collie. No border needed,” he informs, turning his nose up at his spinach. “He’s not worthy of being a priest. He only did it because he and Thomas have been rivals since birth. He didn’t want Thomas having the upper hand or a direct connection to the man upstairs, so he went to seminary.”
“This is ludicrous,” I reply, tossing my napkin in my salad. “I am a fucking killer getting involved in a battle between two brothers that should have ended on the playground forty years ago.”
He nods as he finishes chewing. “Go, do your thing. See if you find something else. If you don’t, consider the option.”
“But it’s a kill for my father…”
“Grandfather,” he corrects, shoving potatoes in his mouth as I roll my eyes. “Your father would’ve already finished the job.”
“Do they not feed you in New Orleans?”
“I forgot to eat breakfast,” he replies with a grin. Lifting his napkin, he asks, “You going to eat that?”
I wave my hand at the salad. “Have at it.”
“Look, you don’t have to like it. You only need to survive it. Don’t confuse liking and survival.”
“I am abandoning Kill Rat,” I randomly announce. “I want nothing to do with that snatch. Pull the plug.”
He shakes his head. “Your wife is doing the same. Kill Rat will end up being a memory in a very short time at this rate.”
With my elbow propped on the arm of the chair and my fingers tucked beneath my chin, I respond, “My wife is a brilliant fucking woman. What is she doing with Etienne?”
“It’s in limbo as far as I know,” he says. “Would you like me to poke the bear?”
“Gently poke the bear,” I caution. “Allegiance has a ravenous bite.”
“And a fucking bitter wind.”
“What is the deal with everyone comparing Allegiance and Russia to a Serbian winter?”
“Cold climate and part of the past,” he says. “Still, I wouldn’t fuck with either one.”
“You’re dropping a lot of F-bombs tonight, Q.”
“It’s the company.” He smirks. “Deliciously worthy.”
Running my hand through my hair, I lean forward onto the table and mutter, “Thomas allowed Dale Archer into the crypt.”
“I am not sure why he did that,” he says, picking at my salad. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
“It breaks protocol,” I insist with a glimmer in my eyes as I jam my finger on the table. “I read the good book cover to cover.”
He chuckles. “How many times?”
“Three,” I answer, smirking. “And I tabbed all the best parts.”
“Dog-ear the corners?”
“Sacrilege!” I laugh. “If nothing else, I could pop him off on a lesser charge…then wanting to kill his brother.”
“Is it though?” he questions. “Think about it. If he is willing to open Oscurità’s doors for anyone willing to bankroll it, that’s a dangerous position for the Nero to be in. Fuck killing his brother. I wouldn’t even waste your time digging dirt up on Carrick. Go after Thomas full force.” He sets down his fork, wipes his mouth, and stares at me. “When will Jaid be here?”
My brows knit together as I query, “How did you know Jaid was coming?”
“She’s in Germany with Madeline Grace, who spoke with me concerning Deacon Cruz’s training.”
“… He did it?”
“Before he left for Japan,” he offers, peering under the metal lid at the chocolate cheesecake. “He wants to do more for you.”
“And that scares the hell out of me.”
“Why?” He dips his dressing covered fork into the creamy goodness. I snarl. I love the guy, but eww. “Cruz has been training for the job his whole life. Don’t overlook him. You have many people applying to be your hitman—Mass, Berk, Vinny—why not Cruz? He knows you better than anyone. And he’ll protect you better too because of…” He twirls his dirty dressing and chocolatey-cheesy fork in the air between us. “Your accord…your link…”
“My accord?” I snicker laughing. “My accord is I like his link in my ass.”
“Use it well, Salvatore,” he muses, offering a toast. “Peace be with you.”
I clink my wine glass to his. “And also with you, Padre, cause I am breaking through the border. Immortal and Allegiance will not merge on my watch.”
“Kill the switch of the sweeping games.”
“I have the means to silence the ringmaster,” I mumble, grabbing a smoke and my lighter before heading to the patio door. “Not everything needs integration.”
“Godspeed, son.”
His Butterfly
“Fumio Hada has agreed to be in your court,” Amber says on the speakerphone. “What now?”
“Come to me,” I reply in misery.
“I’ve waited for years to hear that,” she quips as Deacon walks in just in time to hear, “Just make sure you are whipping my ass when you do it.”
“I have to go, Amber. Deacon is here.” He motions for the door, quietly asking if he should leave. “No, stay.”
“Me?” Amber asks.
“No, me,” Deacon replies with a grin.
“Hi, Deacon!” Amber gleefully says. “Take care of our girl.”
“I will take care of Sal’s girl.”
“Fair enough,” she agrees. “Bye!”
I push the end button. “What can I help you with?”
In jeans and a stained white t-shirt, he plops in the chair across from my desk. “Why do you look like shit? And why are you avoiding me? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing,” I passively remark, organizing my desk. “Everything is fine.”
He sits, staring at me with those blue denim eyes reaching deep into my soul. “You are unhappy.”
“It’s my normal state of existence.”
“Bullshit,” he counters, getting up and walking around to my side of the desk. He eases his ass into the middle of my workspace. He even props his sneakers on the sides of my chair. “Talk to meeeeee!”
“The agreement with Servet will benefit everyone. They are initiating mobile troops to serve as an outpost and security for me.”
He furrows his brow. “… What?”
“They want to protect the Lotus when she goes to wear a sombrero.” I wink.
“They have men that far south?”
“According to Raze Kola, they do,” I report, staying cold and emotionless. “I questioned the same thing, but he assures me they have a task force on hand, and I should hit up Gabe Herrera as soon
as I enter the compound because he’s a bad son.”
“He’s trying to get out,” he mutters, clasping his fingers together. “Or start a war. But he’ll need funds. He knows you’re coming.”
“He does.”
He presses his lips together. “How the hell are we going to get you out of here?”
“I don’t know that yet,” I admit. “I’m not a prisoner, but if I say to Masa that I must meet with Muerte in Mexico, he’s liable to throw my ass into the cold chambers.”
“Let’s use the Goro gang,” he suggests with a spark in his eye.
“Too obvious,” I say. “Try again. Can you get into Mexico?”
“Yeah, I can eat tacos all day.”
I tilt my head and scowl. “Bad analogy.”
He raises his brows and shrugs. “I could if it would help Nakamura and Raniero.”
“You would too, wouldn’t you?”
“Absofuckinglutely.” His finger runs along my jawline as he glances down at the ball of my belly between us. “I would do anything to keep you safe. I will not let you go into Mexico without my eyes on you.”
“You can’t take Reckless Rebellion.”
“I don’t need to,” he claims. “Between Sato and I, we got this.”
“Sato is going too?”
“He’s the head of your security team. Were you planning on crossing the border alone? Red Rover…Red Rover…let Iris come over? While you’re at it, make sure you’re in a tattered dress and barefoot with your hair, all tossed up in a loose bun, so when they’re raping you, you look the part.”
“Raze…”
He stops teasing, and his expression turns grim. “What?”
“Nothing,” I dismiss, knowing that an unnecessary war could break out if I say anything wrong. “Forget about it.”
“Say it.”
“Raze and I…” I stop, unable to find the right words. His jaw tightens, popping with an impending warning of doom. He’s going to blow. “Raze, and I had….sex.”
His eyes widen. “You what?”
A Dark Place (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 5) Page 37
