Bloodstained Beauty

by Ella Fields

  Thomas crawled over the bed, eyes on my chest before rising to my face. “May I?”

  “You just put your mouth between my legs,” I said with a raised brow. “Usually you touch breasts first.”

  He paused, reaching for me. “I didn’t think that mattered.”

  He was right. “I guess it doesn’t.”

  “Do you prefer to have your breasts touched beforehand?”

  Blinking, I tried not to flush as I admitted, “I like it, sure. But …”

  “But?”

  Getting to my knees, I pushed him to the bed, my hands reaching for his zipper, then tugging at his pants and briefs. “But I like having your attention between my legs more.”

  Placing his arms behind his head, he watched me pull his pants down his thick, hair dusted thighs, then assisted me by kicking them off.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I removed my gaze from the lean muscles of his arms, the concentration marring his brow, and dragged them over his packed stomach to take in his length. He was long, thick, and perfect, and I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my hand around him.

  Thomas hissed, and I looked up at his tortured expression. “Are you okay?”

  “More than okay, but …”

  “But?” I smirked as he peeled one eye open.

  “I’m afraid that if you keep touching me, this will be over soon.”

  My hand fell away, but not before I dropped my mouth to the tip. I swiped my tongue over the engorged head, tasting the salt of his own excitement. “Holy Mary mother of …”

  Laughing, I moved up his body, straddled him, and took his lips. “No need for blasphemy.”

  Then I was on my back, his tongue sweeping furiously into my mouth as his hand gripped my thigh, lifting my leg to wrap around his back. He broke away, his forehead resting heavily on mine as he rocked into me, every one of my nerve endings sparking for more.

  “In,” I demanded.

  He didn’t need to be told twice, and I waited, ready to help if he needed it, but he aligned himself and pushed forward within seconds, the tight fit making both of us groan.

  It dawned on me then, as I felt him swell, fully seated inside me, that this was the first time I’d ever let a man inside me without a condom. It didn’t frighten me, at least, not until I remembered … “Shit, wait.”

  Thomas stopped, the muscles straining in his shoulders and neck the only indication it was costing him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve never, well, done it like this.”

  It took him a moment, then it registered, and he smiled. The white of his teeth drew my eyes, and my fingers. I ran them around his lips. “You have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”

  He huffed, shifting inside me, then groaned. “As much as I love hearing compliments from you for a change, I want to know what the problem is.”

  “I was on the pill,” I said, “until you took me.”

  Thomas didn’t say anything for an unbearably quiet moment.

  “Thom—”

  His mouth fell on mine, his body too, as he started thrusting, slowly finding a rhythm that matched the mating of our tongues. He tore his lips away a second, breathing out raggedly, “I love hearing you say Tom.”

  Like a drug, his mouth and his cock pulled me under, but I broke away after a minute. “Wait, you didn’t—”

  “If you want condoms, I’ll get some. But for now, let me have you like this.” His hands reached between our lips, a finger dragging over my bottom lip. He pressed his mouth to mine, then whispered, “With nothing between us but skin.”

  He didn’t last longer than another minute, which I thought was a feat, all things considered. But if I thought he was done, I was wrong. I was half asleep when the sheets shifted over my skin, the cool night air making me reach blindly for them, but I found a head of hair instead.

  “Lift your perfect ass, Little Dove.”

  I obeyed instantly, exhaustion evaporating.

  He tucked a pillow beneath my stomach, then made me lift again as he tucked another on top of that one.

  Getting curious about what it was he planned to do, I opened my mouth to ask him, then promptly snapped it closed, my eyes almost rolling shut as his fingers spread me open, and one slid down my center, playing with some of the cum he’d left behind.

  “It does strange things to me,” he said, voice layered with lust and sleep. “Seeing me inside your body. Leaking out of you.”

  Wicked delight pebbled my arms, and I whimpered.

  After a few minutes, he carefully eased a thick digit inside. “I want you like this next.”

  I think I mumbled something, I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything other than knowing it was going to be a long night.

  Thomas

  Brown eyes welcomed me back into the land of real.

  And all at once, I decided I hated sleep. If she was here, sleep was a barrier I didn’t need. Though, as much as I’d tried to make the most of having her with me in my bed, my Dove passed out in the space between two and three in the morning.

  I might’ve had some questionable morals, but there were plenty of lines I refused to cross. Having intercourse with a sleeping woman was just one of them.

  “I want to stay, but we can’t stay locked away here forever.”

  Her voice was clear as though she’d been awake much longer than me, stewing on her thoughts.

  I shifted closer, my hand gripping her hip. Our legs were intertwined, the touch of her skin, and the fact she was here when I thought she’d escape to her room at first light made my dick excruciatingly hard, and my chest squeeze.

  “Tom?” she questioned with a tiny smile, and I realized I’d just been staring at her. Admiring the way the morning light dripped over her delicate features and lit up the bronze specks in her dark eyes.

  I yawned and turned my head to smother it with my pillow. Turning back, I mumbled, “If you’re worried about your fed, don’t be. He’ll give in like the rest of them have.”

  The conversation woke me up, thanks to the annoyance that stemmed from the subject matter.

  Little Dove rose onto an elbow, her hair falling into her face. My fingers gently nudged it back.

  “Miles,” she stopped, correcting herself, “Milo … I don’t know. He’s gone to a lot of effort. He won’t give in easily, if at all.”

  I dropped my hand, but she took it in hers. “He will if he knows what’s good for him.”

  Jemima’s eyes bulged, which made me chuckle. “Never fear, Dove. If you want him alive, even if it kills me, I’ll respect your wishes.” Though I longed to pluck off every one of his fingers, then remove his hands, for simply touching her.

  “You’re a sweet monster.”

  I brought her hand to my lips. “Above all else. What I feel for you rises above all else.”

  Her eyes glistened.

  A series of bangs thundered on the door. “Tom, wake up.”

  Jemima sat up, the gray sheet pressed to her chest. “It’s okay,” I said. “He won’t come in.”

  Another bang on the door. “I know you’re, ah, occupied, but you have a visitor. One you’ve been waiting for.”

  I sat up in a flash, calling, “Give me ten.” Looking over at Jemima, I asked, “Want to shower with me?”

  A nervous laugh tinkled through the room as she kicked her legs over the side of the bed, collecting her dress and bra. “Maybe another time.”

  “You know I will hold you to that.”

  She dropped the sheet, and my heart slid into my throat as her rosy nipples pebbled and she stretched her arms over her head. Little tease. “Come here.”

  She snapped her bra on, then tugged her dress over her head. “No, I’ve got morning breath.”

  I smacked my lips together with a cringe. “Good point.”

  Her laughter followed her out of the room, and I stared down at my hard dick, sighing.

  Beau and Sage were sitting at my kitchen counter as I shrugged my jacket on and entered
the room.

  “…can’t just borrow someone’s hacksaw,” Beau was saying, his tattooed hands wrapped around a coffee mug.

  “Why the hell not?” Sage asked, turning the page in today’s paper.

  Beau shot him an incredulous look, of which Sage ignored. “That’s a personal thing, man. There’s memories attached to it.”

  I nodded at Murry in thanks as I took the cup of coffee he held out to me, ignoring the knowing smirk on his face.

  “Tom, can I borrow your hacksaw?”

  “No,” I said, then looked at Beau. “He’s downstairs?”

  He nodded, glancing over at the door. “I stuffed a gag in for you. He’s a noisy son of a bitch.”

  “Appreciated.” I turned to Murry. “Lou?”

  “She’s upstairs doing Jemima’s hair.”

  Both men’s eyes landed on me at hearing that, Beau’s nose still showing slight signs of bruising from where my Dove had nailed him. “How’d you get him?”

  “We came by to check in and saw the beat-up old truck farther down the road.”

  “Nothing like a run through the woods in the morning,” Sage murmured, taking a sip of coffee.

  “Caught him near the creek where he slipped on a rock.” Beau drummed his fingers on the countertop. “He wouldn’t say shit.”

  “Which will make it all the more enjoyable.” Sage licked a finger, turning another page.

  After taking lengthy gulps of my coffee, I set the mug down and moved to the basement door. “Anything else I should know?”

  Beau tilted a shoulder. Sage shook his head.

  “Make sure Lou stays away from the kitchen.” Murry knew the drill, and although the basement was soundproof, I didn’t like to risk it.

  My steps were slow. A warning that I was coming, and I wasn’t in a hurry.

  The room was bathed in darkness, but it was my domain, my safe place, so every detail was imprinted in my mind. The darkness didn’t bother or hinder me.

  But it apparently bothered my visitor.

  Muffled complaints tainted the air, along with the harsh stench of sweat. Fear did strange things to people.

  Some passed out.

  Some urinated on themselves.

  Some had bowel movements they couldn’t control.

  Some sweated profusely.

  Some shook until their teeth rattled.

  The list goes on, and judging by the fellow lying on my chair, he was scared, but he had some control. Which told me plenty. He knew about me, so he knew the risks of the job he’d been working.

  Still standing in the dark, I let him work himself up some more, then decided it was time.

  The light flickered on over our heads, the room aglow in a dull, swaying yellow.

  The whites of my visitor’s eyes exploded, and muscles strained in his neck as he heaved unsteady breaths around the gag stuffed into his mouth. His hair was a bushy black and gray, his blue eyes bloodshot and lined with wrinkles, and his bottom lip busted. No doubt thanks to one of my friends upstairs.

  I snapped some gloves on and pulled up a stool to sit beside him.

  He didn’t make a sound, yet thrashed against his bonds. “I’m sure you know why you’re here.”

  The idiot had the nerve to shake his head.

  “Let me repeat that,” I said, leaning back and nabbing a needle from the prepped tray behind me. “I’m sure you know why you’re here.”

  His beefy hand was red, and I gripped it tightly. With the tiniest bit of pressure, I pierced the skin beneath his thumbnail, then pushed. He squealed, nodding his head as his eyes watered.

  Slowly, I pulled the needle out. “Oh, ready to talk already?”

  He nodded emphatically.

  To make sure, I repeated the process on every finger, his muffled shouts and thrashing body white noise as I calmly removed the needle from his pinky finger and tossed it into the jar of antiseptic.

  I tugged the gag free and laid it down beside him on the chair, then waited as his red face took me in, water still leaking from his bloodshot eyes. “You sick fuc—”

  “Anyone who’s ever been in your position has said it all before. I know what I am, so please don’t bore me and waste our time.” I scooted closer, my voice menacing as I seethed, “Now, tell me who you are and why you’re here.”

  He considered me a moment, a moment that was about to cost him severely, but then finally, he admitted, “I was hired to follow you.”

  I waited. Because surely, he knew that wasn’t going to cut it.

  “To get any information I could on you, and to …”

  “To what?” I asked carefully even as my blood raged for vengeance.

  “Your daughter. I was asked to find proof she wasn’t yours, but I couldn’t, and then I was told to … to just t-take her.”

  Without even looking, I grabbed the shears from the tray. Never mind that he was talking, or that there was more to be said, my heart couldn’t cope with the idea of someone taking my sunlight.

  “W-wait,” he stammered. “The fuck? I told you!”

  He thrashed as I stuffed the gag back into his mouth.

  “I know,” I said and wrapped the metal around the tip of his thumb. “But before, I was curious. Now, well, as I’m sure you can understand”—my hand squeezed the handles, and his screams, even muffled, drowned out the sound of the metal slicing through nail and skin—“I’m enraged.”

  I stopped right above the bone. Bones were troublesome things, and I didn’t like to waste time. I’d rather pluck someone’s teeth out than hack through bones.

  That was a chore I saved for special visitors.

  He continued to writhe and scream, and I stared as the blood ran rivulets down his hand, over the restraints, and left droplets on the chair.

  I became nothing but collected rage at the thought of people conspiring against me in that way. It was one thing to attempt taking me down, but another entirely to involve my heart.

  When he’d quieted some, I removed the gag, and asked, “Who asked you to take my daughter?”

  Whoever it was, he mustn’t have feared them much. He gave the information easily. “He was an agent, Milo or some, fuck me,” he groaned, spit dribbling down his chin, his blood coated hand clenching, as he hissed through his teeth, “s-something like that.”

  I sighed, knowing I’d have to somehow break it to my Dove that the fed had to die after all.

  “You’re not a cop?”

  He shook his head. “No, shit. No. But I work small jobs for undercover guys. I wasn’t even going to take this one, but he offered me ten grand and paid half up front. Plus, m-my accommodation and airfare.”

  My teeth threatened to turn to dust, grinding as I gritted, “You offered to take a child for ten grand?”

  He swallowed. “I wouldn’t have hurt her, I swear. I just needed the—”

  The gag shut him up, and I grabbed my favorite knife.

  I pressed the intercom, and Beau picked up with a whistle. “Done already?”

  “I lost my temper.”

  Beau laughed.

  “Just get down here or send Murry if he’s free. This one weighs a ton.”

  Beau trudged down the stairs a moment later, and I handed him the box of gloves.

  We loaded the body onto a tarp, wrapped it up, then set it in the far corner.

  “Think you and Sage could get it out of here?”

  “Pigs?” he asked, smearing some blood between his fingers. The plastic glove crinkled as he opened and closed the digits.

  “Half and half. The drums have been refilled.”

  He watched as I rolled up the soiled chair cover and tossed it into the fire I’d lit before he’d walked downstairs.

  Then I went to the sink in the bathroom and plugged it, dumping a heap of bleach into it, followed by the shears, knife, and needles.

  “He say why he was strolling through the woods like an amateur?” Beau asked as I rummaged through the cleaning supplies in the cabinet beside him.r />
  “If he were that much of an amateur, why didn’t you or Sage find him until now?”

  Beau sighed. “Admittedly, I didn’t bother looking that much.” When I glared, he shrugged. “I thought it was just another fed, and Sage felt the same.”

  “Just another fed?”

  “Come on, man. He was after the fed’s girl. He lost, and the asshole can’t let go. Hiring someone to find her wasn’t going to do shit.” Another shrug. “So, we didn’t think the risk was all that high.”

  “He was after Lou.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Hmm.” I sprayed the chair, then wiped it clean as Beau choked on his guilt.

  “Tom,” he started.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I looked at him then, and snarled, “But know I don’t give a fuck who you are, where you came from, or what you can do; you’re no friend of mine if you can’t even do me the courtesy of telling me you’re not going to hunt someone properly.”

  I’d met Sage via Beau and some other contacts too. Beau I met formally four years ago when we’d both been hunting the same mark. We’d recognized each other from having attended the same school. He was a few years older than me, which often boggled my mind.

  The night we ran into each other, years after our families had wronged us, instead of competing or killing each other, we split the money from the job and remained in touch.

  Beau’s jaw clenched, his tongue skating over his teeth behind shut lips. After a tense moment, his blue eyes hard on mine, they softened. “Yeah, I get it. Won’t happen again.”

  We discussed what time he and Sage would remove the trash from my house, then he left me to my thoughts while I cleaned the floor.

  After some time staring at the chair, I swallowed down the residual anger and fear that’d compelled me to end a stranger’s life, and quickly cleaned up in the tiny bathroom.

  Towel in hand, and wearing only my suit pants and briefs, I switched off the light and made my way upstairs. I entered the code, then pushed the heavy door open.

  Sunlight assaulted my eyes and noticing a speck of blood inside my wrist as I shifted my hand to shield them, I quickly wiped at it with the damp towel as the door shut behind me.