by Renard, Loki
“Slick! What the fuck are you doing?”
“Spanking my disobedient new young wife who thinks heading off after murderers is a good idea,” he says, his palm falling hard and fast. I want to scream that it’s not fair, but I guess, even in the midst of a burning butt, that it is. I knew he’d be pissed, and I did it anyway.
“I didn’t even leave the helicopter! And I was the one who spotted Kitty’s position!”
“You weren’t supposed to be on the helicopter. You were supposed to be on the plane,” Slick lectures. “You’ll stop this disobedience of yours now we’re married, or you’ll pay the price every time.”
His hard hand on my sore bottom makes a hell of an impact, but I don’t regret what I did. I’d do it again. We both know it. This will make him feel better though, I guess. Maybe.
“We had an entire team of agents here ready to extract her,” Slick lectures.
“Your agents would have been too late! Vicious only just barely got there in time. I was integral to the mission’s success! VICIOUS!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Tell Slick I was integral.”
“She was integral,” Vicious purrs back down the plane. “Punish her anyway.”
“Traitor!”
Slick doesn’t want to hear it. His palm does the talking, hard slaps landing over and over, tenderizing my soft skin and sending heat sinking through my flesh.
“I was so damn worried about you, Blaze,” he says, pausing for a moment. “I just got you back from the brink, and right away you threw yourself into a fight that wasn’t yours. You cannot do that again. Not ever. Understand?”
At any other time, I’d tell him to fuck off. I’d scream that he has no right to tell me what to do, and that I have no intention of doing as he says, but somehow I can’t muster those words, even with the heat searing my ass as he starts spanking me again, clearly not finding my silence acceptable.
“Ow! Jesus! Okay! I understand! I’m sorry!”
“You are?”
I hear the surprise in his voice.
“Yes! It was stupid! And pointless! And he didn’t even need me! I was just sticking my nose in.”
His hand smooths over my bottom. “Yes, you were. You’re trouble, Blaze. And when you can’t find any of your own, you get into other people’s.”
“I know.”
He pats my bottom gently. “I will deal with you when we get home. You’ll put your collar on, and I’ll teach my naughty wife a lesson in obedience.”
“With ice cream?” I crane my neck around to look at him.
“With ice cream,” he winks as he lifts me up and turns me around on his lap so I can cuddle into him.
22
Vicious
I knew Kitty was smart, and tough, but finding her down there in Petrov’s lair, surrounded by wounded and dead men, carnage and flame and wreckage was beyond my expectations. Nobody I know has ever survived Petrov.
She is stronger than any woman I have ever known. I sensed it in her from the beginning, when she seemed nothing other than a bratty, opportunistic courier. I saw it in full expression in the Russian woods, where she wouldn’t lie down and die, and where she absolutely refused to be prey.
We’ve been back in New York for several days. She has been recovering well, a little too well in some respects. The close brush with death hasn’t frightened her. It’s made her even cockier than she was, and more disobedient too.
“Cut it out, Kitty,” I give a warning growl when she tries to sneak out of bed. The doctors have recommended she rest as much as possible, but she seems to think dashing around the apartment is better for her.
“I’m just getting a snack, hey!” She protests as I sweep her off her feet and up into my arms.
“You’re just going back to bed.”
“It’s boring there,” she pouts.
“You need me to un-bore you? I can do that.”
She smirks up at me with half-lidded eyes, a sexy catlike expression which makes my lust charge. The doctor said she needed to rest, but technically didn’t say anything about not fucking her.
I drop her back down on the bed and try to tuck her back in, but there’s no way she’s going to go easy. She arches her back and presses her curves against my hands, and the passion which has been simmering between us can’t be denied anymore.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I growl, covering her body with my own.
“You can’t hurt me,” she moans, her teeth nipping at my neck. “The only way you could hurt me was if you stopped being with me.”
We kiss, and I caress her, trying to settle her down. It has the opposite effect. Her hunger is as intense as mine. She wants me, and I need her.
“You asked me once, what we were,” I say. “I tell you what we are, what I want you to be. Mine. Forever.”
She smiles up at me. “Does that mean you want marriage too?”
“Marriage is nothing compared to how I intend to own you, Kitty.”
I spread her legs, bury my face between them, the tip of my tongue finding her lower lips. She arches toward me, her sex eager for my touch, her sweet juices already flowing at the merest touch of my tongue.
I taste her, devour her. I trace every line and fold of her pussy, whipping her into a slow sexual frenzy. The first day we met, I chained her to the wall and I whipped her until she came. I no longer need a whip where she is concerned. She is so much more responsive now. Her obedience comes willingly as she submits not just to me, but to the thing between us, a powerful dynamic which I am sure would cross all boundaries, even those of death.
Suckling her clit lightly between my lips, I listen to the music of her moaning, and relish in her wholehearted submission.
Blaze
“Naughty girl,” Slick chides me. I am on my knees before him, my neck encircled by his collar, my legs spread, the tip of his cane between them, tickling my clit.
I can’t help a little grin. I am naughty, and never more than when he tries to make me behave.
“Quite a delayed honeymoon,” he muses, letting me grind against the hard line of the cane between my legs.
“Not my fault. Blame Kitty.”
“I will never blame anyone else for your mischief, Blaze,” he promises me with a throaty chuckle. “Do you regret the marriage?”
“What?” My eyes widen in surprise. “Why would you ask me that?”
“You fought me,” he says. “You refused me for so long, until…”
“I thought you were some kind of fucking spook.”
“I am some kind of fucking spook.”
“Well, now I know that’s a good thing,” I moan, the tip of the cane using my wetness against me, slipping between the soft lips of my sex.
“Oh?”
“Mhm. You’re a ruthless sick fucker, Slick.”
The cane leaves my pussy and taps my inner thigh. “Language, Blaze.”
“English language,” I smart back, tempting a stronger strike which does not immediately come. “What’s wrong?”
“I was concerned,” he says. “After what happened with your ex, you wouldn’t respond to this anymore, that it would be too much like that…”
“This is nothing like what he did,” I say, my smile fading. “He hated me because I wasn’t his. He hurt me to prove something to himself. This is different, Slick. You do this because I let you.”
He nods, gliding the cane up and down the inside of my thigh. “That is true,” he acknowledges. “All of this happens because you need it, and you want it. If you ever stop wanting it, you tell me. It stops.”
He’s so fucking sweet.
I reach for the cane, wrap my hand around it and hold it against my sex. “I want this, Slick. I need it. I need everything you have. It’s gonna take everything, you know that, right?”
He draws himself fully erect and nods, tapping the floor in front of me. “Hands out. Face down. Ass up.”
The position exposes me, makes me vulnerable, and gives him full access to my
ass. The cane lays lightly across my cheeks for a second, then slips away and returns with a hard CRACK, sending a burst of pure pain through my body.
“You’re right,” he says from on high. “I do need to be ruthless when it comes to you.”
“Owww!”
Kitty
“Mmmmmm…”
Vicious is working magic between my thighs, his mouth hot against my sex, massaging every part of my pussy toward climax. I am arched against the bed, my thighs quivering with impending orgasm.
My fingers curl in his hair as he lifts his head, those wicked green eyes capturing my soul.
“What do you want, Kitty?”
“I want to cum….”
He lashes his tongue against my sex, a near punishing stroke of that hot wet appendage which has become the center of my world.
“I think you’ve been a good enough girl to cum,” he drawls before turning his tongue back to soft circles around the bud of my sex. He’s tormenting me in the sweetest way, taking me to the very edge of climax before slipping away. I feel like my pussy is on fire with need, every part of my existence focused on the need for orgasmic release.
“Pleasseee….” I moan. “Please, Vicious…”
He pulls his mouth away and replaces it with his fingers, slipping two inside me, twisting them slowly, mimicking the penetration I truly need.
“Why…”
This is an exquisite torture, and I don’t understand it. I deserve to cum, don’t I? I’ve been a good girl.
“I’ve been good, so good…”
Slick
“You were a bad girl,” I lecture, whipping the cane down across Blaze’s bottom.
We are not done for what she did in Russia. Not one little bit. A little spanking is never going to get the message through to her, nor is pain alone. I am not like the brute who hospitalized her. This is discipline delivered with precision, and a point.
“I know,” she gasps, her breath sucked between her teeth in a hiss.
She’s so fucking wet. Her ass is lightly marked with six lines of the cane. Six times she has lifted her rear for me. Six times she has taken the stroke willingly, six times she has welcomed the pain.
I drop the cane and move behind her. I need to be inside her. I need to feel her wet cunt wrapped around me. I need to claim my goddamn wife.
Vicious
Kitty is everything. My beginning. My end. My entire world. I pull my fingers from her sex, put my lips to her pussy and her orgasm flows into my mouth, her juices covering my tongue.
Now it is my turn. My cock is rock hard, finding the soft, hot slit of her sex unerringly as she spreads her legs and invites me in with a kittenish look.
“Mine,” I say, gripping her hair and tilting her head back.
Mine. With every stroke of my cock.
Mine. With every beat of my heart.
Mine. With every breath I take.
Kitty
I love him so much. In the aftermath of our lust, we lie in bed, limbs entwined, bodies pressed so close together there is no space between us. I can smell the sex on his skin, and mine. Our juices and sweat gleam on our bodies, physical manifestations of the bond we share.
Vicious caresses my hair gently, brushes the bright colors back from my face and he murmurs what sounds like a sweet nothing, until my brain processes the actual words.
“I’m going to lie to you.”
“Awww… wait… what?”
“I’m going to lie to you when I need to,” he repeats. “I’m going to do what I think is best for you, and you might not always like that, but I’m going to do what’s necessary. I’m going to be as ruthless as I’ve ever been, Kitty. There are no white picket fences in your future with me, and I’m not letting you go.”
I sit up and look at him. “Why are you saying this? Everything was so nice…”
“Because I want to be honest in my dishonesty,” he drawls, putting his hands behind his head. “I want you to know what your life with me will be like - and perhaps, I suppose, I’m giving you some sporting chance of escaping it. In this bedroom, between us, everything is real. Once we step outside, I promise very little.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re trying to tell me something, aren’t you.”
“I believe I’ve been fairly clear.”
“No,” I shake my head. “Something else is a lie. That’s what you’re trying to tell me. Something else that happened to me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but…” I cast my mind back over events. Where’s the lie? The CIA is real enough. The Russians were certainly real. I watched them die. If something is fake, then it’s something… Oh I know. Something that has been bothering me ever since I asked Slick and he refused to answer. I look at Vicious, my eyes going wide. “The fucking brain surgeon.”
“Hmm?”
“That wasn’t real. That was a set up. Wasn’t it.”
He raises a brow. “Well,” he says. “It was real to a certain… oof!”
I pick my pillow up and slam it down on his face as hard as I can.
“You DICK!”
Vicious pushes the pillow from his face. “It was my attempt to make you realize there was real danger in the hopes that we could avoid the Russians if you could be controlled. You weren’t listening to me.”
“So you had me kidnapped. And Coco was in on it.”
“Yes, and a few other associates of mine, people you haven’t met ye… oooFFF!”
I bring the pillow down hard against his stomach.
“Cut that out, Kitty.”
I smack him with the pillow again, and not lightly. I am putting all my strength into it as I flail the soft stuffed surface against his impossibly hard form, until he grabs it in one big hand and yanks it away from me, flipping over and using the weight of his leg to pin me to the bed.
“Don’t be angry, Kitty. It won’t get you anywhere,” he smirks down at me.
“Don’t be a pussy. Don’t sneak and hint and lie to me, just tell me the fucking truth.”
“No.”
“No?”
“The truth is far more dangerous, in general, than lies. Nobody tells the truth, Kitty.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t. You lie to yourself constantly. Right now, you’re not angry that I set you up with a fake kidnapping…”
“I’m pretty fucking sure I am…”
“No. You’re angry that I didn’t leave you with that illusion. You see, Kitty, the fact that I tell you I lie is more truthful than anyone has been with you before. It takes away your cozy little illusions. It makes you face reality.”
“No, Dr Freud,” I sigh. “You’re just rationalizing your dishonesty.”
“I don’t have to rationalize a thing,” he smiles broadly. “If I wanted to take you and keep you prisoner, I could have done that. Instead, I gave you freedom, but helped you shape your perceptions so they could be more accurate.”
“You’re a sociopath.”
“Probably,” he agrees.
His hand is sliding down my belly. His fingers slip over the cum soaked mound of my sex and two of them push inside my pussy.
“The world is run by the ruthless, Kitty,” he says, stroking his digits slowly in and out of my aching sex. “And you are a sweet girl with innocent desires. The world will twist them against you, make you a slave. You can spend the rest of your life running on a treadmill for baubles, in debt for the basics of existence. Or, you can experience the freedom of the life I can give you.”
His fingers plunge deeper, the heel of his hand massaging my clit. I am lost in the intensity of his gaze, the pure recklessness of his spirit.
“Sometimes, lies are more true than truth itself,” he rasps against my ear as his palm starts to slap against my pussy, his fingers plunging in and out of me, driving me to an orgasmic revelation.
Vicious is a devil and the world his is playground. I am his plaything, a toy he has taken to his bed and into h
is heart. I will forever be trapped in his desire, but I will not go easily. He will try to impose his order, but I will bring fresh chaos, and the clash of our wills and our bodies will satisfy us both in ways no conventional coupling ever could.
He may be a liar. He may be a criminal. But I am equal to him, and I will grow to match him in wit and will.
As fresh orgasm rips through me, I capture his lips in a violent kiss, finding rapture in the darkness of his vicious heart.
“I’m going to get you back for that,” I gasp against his mouth.
A deep chuckle escapes him and runs through the core of me.
“Kitty, I’m counting on it.”
A Note from Vicious
My naughty Kitty wants to turn her claws on me - but she should know better than to play the master at his own game.
Follow Kitty’s incredibly ill-advised and certain to end in tears antics in the next volume of our story, Vicious Revenge, available for order here.
Suffice to say, this will not end well for my feisty but oh so misguided girl.
- Vicious
P.S Enjoy this sneak preview of Kitty’s antics in the meantime.
Vicious Revenge Sneak Preview
Chapter One
Kitty
“This is a bad idea,” Blaze declares.
She’s right, of course. But I have to get back at a certain English criminal mastermind, and I have to be bold about it. When it comes to messing with Vicious, I know I’m walking a dangerous line. He doesn’t need much in the way of encouragement to take me to the screaming edge of sanity, but nobody makes me think I’m going to be given a back-alley lobotomy and gets away with it.
It has been a month or so since the chaos of my Russian abduction, and I am ready to follow through on the threat I made when I discovered the more twisted aspects of the way Vicious recruited me. He has been lying to me from the beginning, and he’s not sorry about it. Not at all.
“You can’t tell Slick.”
“Sure, let me keep a secret from my CIA agent husband. That’s totally doable,” Blaze rolls her eyes at me. She’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, her pink socked feet sticking out under black jeans.
