Mortal Siege

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  Blood blossoms along the crotch of his dress pants.

  I bring up all the times he made me bleed from down there, uncaring, feeding off my pained cries since I wouldn’t give him any of pleasure, and somehow find the way to feed my own soul with the destruction of that part of him.

  Once it becomes clear he’s heading into another round of shock, Drew shuts down the bots and slams another needle with adrenaline into his chest. Dialing on his phone, he turns to questions me with his stare, clearly checking if I’m okay.

  Am I? Who cares? He’s with me and he just helped avenge everything that man on the gurney ever did wrong to me.

  So I muster a small grin and nod.

  “Yeah? It’s done. I got the names for you. He’s going to need medical attention stat to keep him alive, stat. Okay. Hurry.” Hanging up the call, he walks away from a twitching Menahan, barreling to me, one massive, tall wall of concern.

  Legs trembling, I hurry to my feet and into his arms, my own adrenaline sparked by this entire crazy day leaving me in a rush.

  Drew crushes me to him, breathing in the scent of my hair. “You’re getting that arm in the fucking sling as soon as we’re home, baby.”

  That’s what he’s thinking about right now? A watery laugh leaves me and I tuck my face into his neck, his heart beating against me the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt. “How did you know?”

  He kisses my cheek hard. “It’s common sense. Now come on. We’ll wait for Shell outside. I want you away from this bastard for the rest of our lives.”

  chapter 69

  t he almost scalding water pelts me from the two-foot large chromatherapy shower head above my head. Designed to be like standing in the rain, I’ve loved it every time I’ve used it. The remaining blood has long washed away, as well as the ashes and dirt of the night.

  Running my hands over my wet hair, I tilt my head back, soaking in the water.

  Soaking in my new reality.

  It’s over. It’s truly over.

  Menahan is in Shell’s custody, being transported to something worse than a Supermax. One of the government’s hidden, labor camps, the kind they’re forever denying exist.

  Some might say that there’s a reason to always be afraid, as long as he’s still breathing.

  I understand that. I do. Yet the need for vengeance that he fostered in me while holding me prisoner is more powerful than my fear.

  Can’t lie and say I’m not getting a sick thrill out of knowing his suffering is just beginning.

  And that to the world, he will be dead. A victim of the explosion he himself set off in Drevlow Systems. His memory tarnished; his legacy destroyed.

  I could ask for no better balancing of the scales of justice. If that makes me a horrible person, so be it.

  Drew loves me anyway and after everything we’ve been through, that’s all that matters.

  The bathroom door opens.

  Wiping water out of my eyes, I face that direction and watch as Drew walks in, his gaze landing on my naked form.

  Looking as drained as I feel, he begins to disrobe. Even as tired as he is, his cock responds as it usually does in my proximity, and between my legs I feel my pussy get instantly slick with desire.

  Fully naked and erect, he slides open the shower door and joins me beneath the giant area of spray. Cupping my face, he tilts his own back, eyes closed, soaking in the water like I was seconds ago.

  Caressing my cheeks with his thumbs, as if needing to soak in the feel of me, too.

  “You okay, baby?” I whisper, smoothing my hands over his wet, massive pecs.

  He hums in his throat. Lowering his head, he blinks open drowsy, toffee-colored eyes. “I have you.” His hands squeeze down on my fist, energy twitching in them, barely restrained. “I. Have. You.”

  I’m going to cry for like the millionth time this week. “Oh, baby. We have each other. No one will ever separate us again.” I’m snatched into what I now call his infamous bear-hugs. He means it as an act of comfort only, but his wet skin and hard dick coming in contact with my body pumps that electric hunger through me.

  Snuggling up to him, I grind against him in a way I know he won’t be able to mistake.

  Smoothing my hair back from my face, he skims his lips down my throat. “You sure, baby?” He nips lightly at my skin. “We need to get that arm in a sling.”

  I groan at his obstinance. “Drew, I want your tongue on my pussy. Then I want your cock fucking me deep.”

  I’m practically flung around in the blink of an eye, led to the wall.

  “Brace yourself. I’m eating it like this.”

  I feel more than see him drop to his knees on the shower floor behind me.

  Biting into my lip, my core pulsing like I’ve never had him before, I lean on the wall.

  Drew palms my ass possessively, spreading my cheeks, bringing together, spreading them again . . .

  His breath hits me, teasing my sensitive clit and folds. Hissing in a breath, he licks into me, lapping at my clit, teasing my entrance.

  Just like that, my thighs are shaking, barely holding me up. “Oh fuck, yes. That’s it. That’s what I need. Lick it, baby.” My hips churn in his face.

  “Fuck.” He draws my clit between his lips, sucking lightly.

  Right as I feel the crazy urge to come starting to take over, he licks his way higher, higher, until reaching my ass.

  I squeal at the first swipe, mind freezing in shock—

  His second lick sends a shock of pleasure so intense, my clit swells even more.

  “Shit, that’s . . . that’s . . .” I can’t even talk, my breaths racing too hard.

  Drew palms my cheeks harder, spreading me open to the limit. “Every part of you tastes so fucking good.” His tongue probes deeper.

  The thought of how wrong this is infiltrates my mind again, followed by the incomprehensible jolts of sensation that his tongue is bringing me. Throwing my head back, I mewl towards the ceiling, everything between my legs pounding with need. “Drew, baby, that’s so good.”

  “Mhmm.” He nods frantically, face lost between my cheeks, mouthing working at me. He’s enjoying this as much as I am, a thought that does nothing but drag me further into that pit of base instinct.

  The dirty, primal need to have him fuck me in any way he wants.

  “I need—baby, I need to come!”

  His tongue licks my tight opening faster and two of his fingers find my clit, rubbing back and forth.

  “Holy fuck! DREW!”

  The orgasm’s just starting and he slides his thumb inside my spasming pussy.

  The overload hits me like a fucking seizure.

  His tongue teasing my sensitive ass.

  His index and middle finger playing with my clit.

  His thumb fucking me in time to each move.

  Short, stunted moans punch out of me, my arms failing me, my legs starting to follow suit.

  Drew rears up, catching me against him, and spins me around while my world continues to shatter around me. Lifting me into his arms, he slams me into the shower wall, and spears me on his swollen cock.

  Choking on my breath, my head falls into the wall, eyes rolling back. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”

  That sexy, dangerous snarl echoes between us and he yanks my head up, slamming his lips onto mine.

  Our tongues connect as he all but fucks me into the wall and tasting myself on him . . . holy shit, I don’t even care where his tongue just was. Frantic, I lick at him while he licks at me, letting him rag-doll me to his content.

  “You taste so good. You feel so fucking good,” he grunts between wet kisses, every inch of his body covering mine. Pressing deep, he forces me to take the rotations of his thick dick, my clit grazing his groin. “Fuck, Lexi. Gonna fill this pussy.”

  “Drew. Drew,” I chant his name, eating at his mouth, my body tightening.

  “That’s it, baby. That’s it. Give me another one. Come all over this big dick and I’ll give you every d
rop.”

  Thighs seizing around him, I can do nothing but hold on as another orgasm tears through me mercilessly.

  “Ahhhh, yeah. Fuck. Perfect. I love you, baby. Coming so hard.”

  Our mouths crash together as he loses coordination, single-minded in his need to burst inside me. I whisper how much I love him as we kiss, how I’ll never be able to live without him again, and through the hurricane of sexual connection, I hear him swearing that he’ll never let me go.

  That, at the first opportunity, he plans to truly make me his.

  Forever.

  epilogue

  m anhattan glitters in the distance, like the American jewel it is. The Freedom Tower cuts into the air with its obnoxious, brilliant light.

  Although, I shouldn’t be one to talk. Soon, it’ll no longer be the largest building in the country. I purchased one ten blocks from it and have decided to expand the unfinished height by an extra fifty-feet.

  Walking down the boardwalk, I scan the night for the man I came here to meet.

  Even in the LED lights, that unruly head of auburn hair shines too bright. Hands in his pockets, he’s facing away from me, staring in the same direction I was staring at.

  Creeping up on him would be funny, despite the nature of the meeting. He’s supposed to be highly trained, almost one-of-a-king among our species. I’m assuming so, anyway. Still haven’t been able to pinpoint any hint of what unit this fucker works with.

  I lighten my steps, closing in on him—

  “Any luck on locating her?” he asks without turning around.

  Fuck.

  Okay, point proven. “Ms. Noir vanished four years ago, last sighting in Manhattan . . . with you. That part you didn’t tell me, by the way, but a traffic cam caught a picture of her on your arm leaving the MET museum”—I stop next to him, mirroring his pose—“after hours I might add. Which leads me to believe you two were on a date.”

  He doesn’t answer, but his light eyes crinkle at the corners.

  A man lost in his memories.

  A man being eaten alive by them and using every ounce of his considerable talent to contain it.

  “You said she was a target, but who is she? Really?”

  Shell exhales slowly, not meeting my stare. “Exactly who you think she is.”

  His “Lexi”.

  And, I suspect, the real reason he allowed me to get as involved with all this as I have.

  Well, that and my tech.

  Doubt this asshole does anything for a solely sentimental reason.

  “I’ll find her for you. I won’t stop looking until I do.” Not after everything he’s done for us, regardless of his reasons why.

  Nodding, he faces me. “I’m being reassigned to a new, urgent case. I’ll no longer be undercover with the East Coast Bratva.”

  The sense of panic I feel at that is odd. A sign of how dependent I’ve become on his “legal” help, I guess.

  Not that I have any plans of continuing to break the law. With Menahan dead and no one around to pay out the contract on my life, the mob has backed off. The authorities are now piecing together the picture of how it was solely Stephen that terrorized me and my company all those weeks.

  Lexi and I are now free to live as normal of a life together as we can.

  My help to the agent besides me notwithstanding.

  “Where are you being transferred?” I ask, although I don’t expect him to truly answer.

  “Texas.”

  Taken aback, I jerk around. “Texas? What the fuck are you going to do there?”

  “That part is classified. But I’ll need your help searching for another target. A real target this time.”

  “Who am I looking for?”

  “He’s a Pakhan in the Chicago Bratva syndicate. Has ties all over, especially with Imre Andropov.”

  The leader of the East Coast syndicate that originally accepted both Menahan’s contract to kill me and my contract to kill him.

  “What’s the name?”

  “Ryzhkov. Like I said, he’s Pakhan of the Chicago syndicate but we can never catch him in one place for too long. His last known sighting was in Miami, after that he went back underground. He’s the reason I’m heading to Texas to intercept a deal and that’s all I can say on the matter.” He pulls out his encrypted phone.

  In less than a second, my own encrypted phone pings. Bringing it out, I see the image of the man he text me. The photo was taken in what is obvious a nightclub and he’s standing next to a tanned-skin man with black hair buzzed-cut as short as mine and what looks like light green eyes. “Okay,” I say, putting my phone away. “I’ll start on that tonight. Will I be able to reach you on the same number?”

  “I’ll send you my new means of communication once it’s all set up. Also, I’m telling you this because you’re helping me with Sienna, but as with everything else, it must stay between us.” His stare drills into mine.

  “Go on.”

  “Shell is now dead. Erased. Moving forward, my new codename will be Spectre. At least, until I’m reassigned on a new mission. But as I said, between us.” He waits until I nod and turns to walk away without a goodbye.

  “How long until I hear from you?” I call out.

  “Don’t worry about that. You will. See you around Mr. Drevlow,” he answers over his shoulder.

  And I’m left here, watching Shell—no, Spectre—walking away into the night, disappearing from my life until it’s time for him to need me again.

  Or for me and Lexi to need him.

  Which I hope we never, ever do.

  I want nothing more than to go home to my woman and start our beautiful life together.

  Got some serious ring shopping to do, too.

  It’s about damned time.

  The End.

  .

  .

  .

  Or is it?

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  About the Author

  N. Isabelle Blanco is the Amazon Bestselling Author of the Allure Series, the Need Series with K.I.Lynn, and many others. At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.

  That is, until coffee came a long and took over everything else.

  Nowadays, N. spends most of her days surviving the crazy New York rush and arguing with her characters every ten minutes or so, all in the hopes of one day getting them under control.

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