He thrusts his hips, the movement jarring me as his cock anchors inside my throat. I tighten myself around him as he pulls out. My hands clench his thighs, feeling the powerful muscles harden like rock when he flexes. Every moan that shakes from his chest rides me like a wave. Like a broad, flat hand running from my breasts all the way to my pussy. My core clenches hard when I look into his eyes. They’re like coals, shifting their heat.
Air rushes into my lungs when he pulls out, his grip merciless on my strands of hair. His stare burns me, and then his bicep flexes and pain stings through my scalp.
“Get up.”
The command rushes through my veins like alcohol. My skin heats under his gaze as I stand up. Ignoring the bloodstain spreading over his shirt, he wraps his arms around me and lifts me into the air, heading for the bedroom.
“Wait—stop!”
“Fawn, my patience is hanging by a thread—”
“I want you now,” I say in a heady voice as I imagine Viper, pressed up against the closet. “Here.”
My legs wrap around his waist as a grin staggers over his face. Suddenly I’m moving backward as he slams my body against something wooden.
Oh my God.
The fucking closet.
I’m on the verge of shouting a pointless warning, because he shifts my weight to his good shoulder. The blunt force of his cock nudges against my pussy, and I make a shrill sound that becomes a sharp yell. He plunges inside me, his neck strained, my fingers trembling in his hair. Holy fuck. I’ve never felt anything so good. My back slams against the closet door. It rattles violently but doesn’t open, and I know that Viper’s standing right behind that door, studying my every curve, but I don’t give a shit. Silas grips my waist, and another shock hits my core like a battering ram. I yank his curls, and our lips join. It’s as though a bomb went off. I tear at his hair, and he grips my face, and we’re kissing each other like we’ve never done before.
The closet door bangs hard, and Silas breaks away from my lips, gulping down breaths. His face contorts and his cock pierces me again, shattering me. His tongue trails a wet path over my chest, between my breasts. A sting of pain turns into sweetness when he bites down, lapping at my tits as I clench over his length. My back rakes the angled slats of the door.
Holy.
Fuck.
Suddenly I slide down his body. He lowers me to the ground, arms shaking. My back rubs against the carpet as he kneels with me. My legs wrap around his waist as he positions himself. For a moment I think I’m in for a brutal fuck, but he leans over me, his nose touching mine. The softness in his eyes grips my heart. A moan forces from my lips as his hardness touches me. For once, he doesn’t demand me to beg.
Soft lips descend over mine as his cock nudges forward, impaling me with a swift stroke. His fingers get lost in my hair as his tongue forces inside my mouth. My back rubs against the carpet with his thrusts, and the burn hurts, but I’d rather have this than never again.
He’s gentle, just as he was during our wedding night. Michael. His other hand touches my face as he looks back at me with a tenderness I never expected to see coming from those eyes.
He flattens himself, nuzzling my neck as every thrust blasts a groan over my skin. I hitch my legs higher, high-pitched sounds escaping from my throat. I clutch his back as his body undulates, and I bite down hard. My core squeezes around him as I feel him pulse.
His lips move on my ear.
“I love you, Fawn. I’ll never leave you.”
He loves me.
“Michael!”
I cry out his name as he crushes his hips against mine, his cock throbbing with a painful sweetness. The scrape of his fingers on my scalp sends a thrill through my body, and I tighten myself as he plunges into me. I can feel the buildup in his voice, the way his whole body seizes, and it swells inside me, too. I know I’m just one more thrust away, and then he lurches forward, exhaling a loud sigh. His cock pulses, and I feel the warm jet of liquid just as I dig my fingers into his back, finally shoved over the edge. I come hard, completely lost. Jolts of pleasure flood my brain with every contraction, and when he seals his mouth against mine, all that matters is this moment. The small muffled groans. His thickness, still buried deep inside me.
He loves me.
I want to cry.
My husband pulls back, a sleepy smile on his lips. He has no idea what those three words do to me.
I’ll never see him again.
“I—It’s okay if you didn’t mean it.”
“I meant it,” he says, still breathing deeply. “I thought you should know that I’m in love with you.”
My eyes burn, and his fingers catch the tears that slip down my cheeks. “What changed?”
“I don’t know. I just know that I can’t leave you, even if that means staying here.”
“But, what about—?”
“I’m tired of carrying this weight wherever I go. I’m tired of meaning nothing to nobody, and never giving a damn about anyone but myself.”
I can’t speak. My chest shakes under his body, which feels heavier than it should. The second he’s gone, Viper will come out of that closet and wrap his hands around my neck. He’ll squeeze until all the air’s gone, but it won’t matter. He’ll be safe.
I’m doing it for love. I’d rather die than betray him.
We lie like that for what seems like fifteen minutes, his forehead pressed against mine as his chest blows with air. There’s nothing but the pleasant hum of my orgasm. My resolve to let him go weakens as he kisses my neck softly, pressing his lips right against my jumping vein. His nails drag over my skin, and then he pulls back enough so that I can see all the freckles on his nose.
“Fawn.”
And I hear that voice almost as though it’s Viper’s high, cold one. My heart starts, and I glance toward the closet again. He’s still there, watching our every move.
Hope you enjoyed the show, asshole.
God, I want to tell Silas the truth. I want him to drag me into his arms and lock me somewhere safe while he takes care of that venomous fuck hiding in our apartment. Hearing every word we speak.
“I’m scared.”
“I know, but it’s almost over. I’ve been talking to some guys, and we’re coming up with a plan. That’s why I’ve got to go.”
I’m desperate to shut him up, so I grab the limp bandage hanging on his shoulder and I untie it. The material is soaked through with his blood, and when I peel it back, he makes a face.
“Shit.”
There’s just one angry gash. The cut is small, but I can tell from the way Silas’s eyes dent with pain that the knife went in deep.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.”
“I’ve had a lot worse, trust me.”
Sliding out of me, he sits back, and I follow him as he stands up. I watch him button up his shirt as a silent howl runs though me. His hollowed eyes watch me, and then he grasps my chin, his thumb caressing my skin.
“It’ll be fine.”
And I attempt some kind of a smile, and he leans forward and presses his lips to mine. They’re impossibly sweet, and my chest fills with something that might be joy, but it’s brief. Like a firework, it bursts into brilliant rays of colored light, and then it fizzles into ash. I want to cry out and scream with my grief.
Silas dresses quickly, finding his belt in a corner. Then he gives my cheek a kiss, and I’m just about to let him leave without saying it back. My lungs collapse as he gives me a smile—
“I love you, Michael.”
He stops at the sound of his name, as though he almost didn’t recognize it. He looks over his shoulder and blows me a kiss, and then that’s it. The door opens and he’s gone.
I’ll never see him again.
Still naked, I walk to the bedroom and slam the door shut just as I hear a crash in the living room. I back myself into the room, my legs bumping against the mattress. Seconds later the bedroom door flies open with a crash, a
nd Viper stands in the doorway, a figure of darkness.
“Did you enjoy watching Silas fuck me?”
The light flares on, illuminating a mask of potent rage, and as I look down, a stiffening erection. That more than anything sends a jolt of fear to my heart, but I square my jaw and look at him.
“Clearly, you did.”
He makes a sound that’s like an inhuman bellow, and then suddenly his vicious hand is wrapped around my throat. Blood slows to my brain, and I feel it like a sudden misstep.
“What the fuck was that?”
“That was me playing you.”
A heavy hand smashes against my jaw. The blunt force knocks my head to the side, and still he squeezes my neck as my vision blurs. I can’t speak from the pain vibrating.
“Is this an invitation, Fawn? You want me to fuck you on his bed?”
“You disgust me.”
Laughter hits my ears. High, cold, and cruel. “You realize there’s nothing to stop me from pulling my cock out and burying it in your cunt.”
Go ahead and rape me, you coward.
His hand relaxes around my neck, and I take a deep lungful of air. I watch as the other hand reaches for his belt and tugs a dark, wooden handle. A long, deadly knife winks at me under the light, and he slaps my thigh with the flat of the blade.
“Go on. Spread those gorgeous legs apart.”
Oh God.
I bite my lip to keep from screaming as I do what he says. My throat closes as he points the blade at my pussy, his eyes drinking in my reaction.
“I told you I’d fuck you with my knife.”
My mouth parts, and I swallow back a tremor of weakness.
He wants you to beg. Don’t beg.
Silas’s voice hisses in my ear, and I cling on to him like a beacon of strength. He wouldn’t beg, either.
“You’re really fucking brave with Silas gone from the apartment. Are you a coward? Or just lazy?”
The edge of the knife digs into my thigh and a gash opens. He yanks my head closer, so that there’s nowhere else to look. His eyes swirl with madness, deeply wounded pride, and rage. A rage that’s inhuman—terrifying.
“DON’T—CALL ME—COWARD!”
Then his hand is around my throat again, and he squeezes so hard that I drop to my side. The knife slips back into his belt and then he reaches for the obscene bulge in his slacks. He grabs his cock and strokes himself. The fucking bastard is going to masturbate to my death.
I’m going to die like this.
It feels peaceful, at first. Then the burn of lack of oxygen attacks my lungs, and I claw it his fingers, trying to prize them off. Just one digit would give me the air I need. I dig my nails into his flesh, and I tear up as the light slowly fades from the world.
“No,” he says softly.
Air rushes back to my brain as his fingers unstick from my neck. Dazed, I lie on my back as color returns to my vision. The green of his eyes.
“He’s going to watch as I shove my fat cock inside you. He’s going to listen to you scream while he’s tied up. Helpless.”
Be brave, Fawn.
“I’ll choke you as I fill your cunt with my cum, and then he can watch your skin turn blue. Your eyes will pop out of your sockets and you’ll piss yourself, and then I’ll touch myself again.”
He touches my face, and I flinch so violently that he laughs. My heart— I’m going to pass out. Tears bead in my eyes and I turn my head toward the door. Viper grips my jaw like a wrench and forces me to look at his terrible face.
“Are you still brave?”
SILAS
The smell of soy and Chinese cooking spices saturates the cramped restaurant. There’s a sea of dark, bent-over heads on low tables, porcelain spoons banging against bowls. My stomach growls as the familiar smells tease my senses. Then a memory blasts through my head and I’m running through the streets of Chinatown with ragged sneakers, clutching a hot pork bun in my grubby hands. The smells of restaurants, of the open markets—of dried ginger and cuttlefish—I ran past them all to bring back my prize to Pepper. The cops would be looking for an eight-year-old kid who stole the bun, but so what? It was a hot meal. Shared among eight kids, a single pork bun wasn’t very much at all.
“Sir, do you have a reservation?”
My feet slam back into the present and I smile at the hostess, showing her the Black Dragons mark on my palm.
She nods and leads me deep into the restaurant, where there’s a round table and eight other syndicate men sitting there already. They watch me as I take a seat among them. This, in the end, was all I could scrounge as a resistance against Viper. Eight men.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Hot tea.”
The rest of them wave her off, and the waitress turns her back, failing to hide her disappointment. Then my eyes turn on each of the men. Paul’s sitting among them, his eyes narrowed in distaste for the setting.
“Something wrong?”
He leans forward, his lank black hair falling in front of his face. “This place. There are way too many people.”
“That means it’ll be harder to be overheard.”
“Viper has spies everywhere.”
“This is worth the risk.”
A hard edge in my voice makes Paul lean back into his seat. None of the sullen faces around me dispute that fact.
“We’re all here for the same reason.”
“I know why I’m here.” A heavyset man glares at me through heated eyes. “I don’t know why the hell you are.”
This is going well.
“Meaning?”
“She was my cousin,” he says, fury emanating from every pore. “Sarah. Viper butchered her after he murdered the Council.” He extends his hand, pointing to the man sitting across from him. “His son was killed.” And then he gestures to another. “His is still lying in a coma. What I’m trying to get at, Silas, is that we don’t fucking trust you. You’re not one of us. You’re one of his.”
“If you really believed that, why did you come to this meeting?”
“No one else is taking a stand.”
That’s fucking right.
“I’ve wanted Viper dead ever since I was a kid.”
“What did he do to you?”
My insides, already swirling with unease, clench uncomfortably.
Achilles dropped her facedown in the sand as the freezing water crept under her body and washed into her open mouth. I crouched, frozen, as he walked past the rock where I was hiding, his feet making prints in the sand. The swell of the Bay kept blowing over the shore and Pepper’s lifeless body. Tears froze on my cheek, and still I stayed there. When I finally gathered the courage to remove myself from my hiding place, I ran to her side. Pepper’s dirty-blonde hair stuck to her pale face, and my fingers touched her skin. She was cold. And dead.
It was all my fault.
I repeated the story once to Fawn. It was painful enough prying out that secret from my soul and laying myself bare to her. I wouldn’t do it for anyone else.
He falters under my glare as I tighten my fists and seethe.
“We can’t get to him in the syndicate,” another man chimes in, breaking the tension around the table.
“We can. We just have to spread the word within the ranks.”
“How the fuck do we do that?”
Jesus Christ.
“The same way I approached you guys at the party.”
“The real question is, what happens afterwards? Let’s say that we somehow manage to get rid of Viper. Then what?”
“Then I take temporary leadership of the Dragons.”
A silence fills the space between me and the others around the table, broken only by the clatter of chopsticks and the murmur of conversation.
“What?” the man to my left asks, a grin on his face.
“I’ll take Viper’s place—just for a little while until things calm the fuck down.”
“You think you can just waltz into the biggest crim
inal empire—”
“Okay, stop. You guys aren’t a fucking empire. You’re a joke. You let one man slaughter your Council.”
“No one’s attempted an attack in over fifty years.”
“And you made it really fucking easy for them,” I snap back. “I know that I’m new, but I know Viper better than any of you. I can take him out and smooth things over with the public, but it’ll take time. And I’ll need your support.”
“Why the fuck would we support you? What makes you think you’re qualified to lead this organization?”
“I don’t want it.”
Wasn’t it Fawn who said that leadership was best suited for people who didn’t want it? My stomach turns at the thought of having hundreds of men not only working for him—but under him. I’ve worked for dozens of gangs, quietly assessed their leadership, but I never envisioned myself as a boss.
“But you just said—”
“I know what I said. I’m doing this for my wife.”
Not because I want to be in charge of a bunch of fucking amateurs.
They glance at each other. It doesn’t take a genius to sense their unease, and I don’t blame them. I’m a fucking hitman, for Christ’s sake. I won’t relish the job, but at least I’ll be calling the shots again.
“Look, this doesn’t work unless I have your support. If you don’t like the job I’m doing, get rid of me.”
Paul watches me, rubbing his chin. “Guys, we don’t have time to debate this. In a month, Viper’s managed to destroy our relationship with the public and our allies in Oakland. This shit can’t continue.”
The waitress finally returns with a hot clay pot of tea and sets a tiny mug in front of me, filling it with the light-green liquid before turning around quickly and leaving. A stab of unease hits me as I stare at the steaming drink.
I turn my head around, watching the waitress hurry back to the kitchen. Grateful for its warmth, my hands wrap around the mug of tea. I grit my teeth. Organizing a hit like this feels too bold. I deal in secrecy and shadows. That’s how I work best.
Hitman's Bride (Bad Boy Empire) Page 18
