Leave Him in Pieces

by August Red

  Roman’s head goes back as the bullet hits him right between the eyes, his body jerks as it follows lead, like a wave in slow motion, falling in a loud thud on the cold shiny floor.

  Vladimir’s black eyes zero-in on the dead man. Luis places a hand on his mouth and muffles, “Holy fuck..."

  Turning, Vladimir scratches the side of his jaw with the nose of his gun, licking his lips as he takes in Luis's reaction, his own marinating with an oddly menacing look of pleasure the longer he watches Luis squirm and twitch in fear.

  Vladimir saunters toward the couch, bends forward when he reaches Luis cowering under him. Luis’ eyes bulge and glue to the man whose brains are leaking out on the floor, not five-feet away.

  Vladimir, patting Luis's shoulder a couple of times, finally grips a painful hold on his neck like a claw. It makes Luis flinch as another cry tears from his mouth.

  “Now. I think it’s time we discuss what really happened with the Dela Cruzes. I’ve a feeling this time, you're gonna be a lot more talkative.”

  Chapter Seven

  JUDAS HASN’T MOVED.

  Belle hasn’t breathed either.

  The click of the lock plays, again and again, in her ear, like a residual echo that traps her bones and muscles in place. How can one sound defy her will, take over her control, and make her dizzy with the possibilities of what will come next?

  “Belle... want me to leave?"

  “What I want…”

  The message sparks inside her tummy. She darts him a look with one eye, the other shelters under the veil of hair that has loosened and released itself from his surprised presence.

  Caged, ready to break, to plunder—all of him lays before her. He looks like he’s on the brink of some madness. His face, the crystallized emotion that unfurls before her, tugs at her with the force of an unnaturally strong pull. Something neither of them can see, neither can explain.

  She crawls forward, pushing the comforter off her in slow, measuring steps. It makes his black stare ignite. Taunting the thin hold that keeps him at bay, Belle feels the surge of power fall over her.

  On her knees, she moves to the end of the bed, hesitant, but also short on breath and high on feeling. Her tiny transparent undershirt rides high on her breasts and she pulls it down, already feeling stripped when his eyes slit in primal fury at the milky exposure of skin, and more enraged by her instinct to hide any part of her from him.

  They are eye level now. The blast of awareness has her knees buckling, but she won’t move. She doesn’t think he'll allow her one step, one inch from his closeness after letting herself so near. She licks her lips in slow motion like her mouth has been pricked with Novocain from the sting of his glare. It is all she can sense. Him. Numb and tingly.

  “Judas… I thought—"

  “You’re it for me, Belle.” There’s a thickness in his voice that she’s never heard before. Tears, emotion, fear, longing—all rolls into one big bubble that’s about ready to explode from inside her. He glides closer, one small inch, and they’re nose-to-nose. His breathing is uneven, harsh. “My everything."

  His head bends closer, then drifts back to really give her an intense look, trying to cut off the current that flows between them. “You, Belle. Only you."

  His declaration—she feels it right in her bones.

  Her hand comes up, but he stops it, pinning her wrist in the air with his fingers around it. Gone are the small drops of lightness from his stare, like peeks of sunlight through clouds. They evaporate, vanquish by the penetrating severity of his need.

  “Don't play with me, Belle.” His voice teeters over the edge, from soft and low, to a ripping snarl, suddenly turning on a dime, but it only pushes the excitement quivering under her flimsy undershirt. He jerks her closer, her chest bumps his, followed by their lips hitting then parting from the sizzling buzz. “I can’t stop with you.”

  Her nipples strain hard against her shirt. “Judas...” She feels her flesh rise above her, the sensation paints over her. She rushes out before she thinks she’ll break, waiting only for his eyes to land on hers. “I want all of you," she says on a whispery gasp.

  Their breathing mingles, both hitching as their silence and nearness turns them on. They close in on one another. Their mouths meet, but neither of them move in for a kiss as they continue watching each other, engrossed in the heat. Waiting, wanting, holding back until they think they'll crack from the pressure building.

  Judas bites down, his jaw flexes and shows off the sharpness of his features as he pants. His mouth opens in a silent call as his eyes violate every inch of flesh on her mouth.

  His eyes blaze, and he makes a low pained noise as he hisses, “Belle—”

  Next thing, her hands fist in his hair, his in hers, their faces collide, and their lips gulp down one another, the air splitting as they meet and greedily take and give from one another. Their heads twist and turn, from side to side, fiercely, almost savage like. They both seem ready to break the other in two. Her arms loop around his neck, only to deepen the closeness, delve into his mouth, and get so wrapped up in him, everything else slips away, never to be found again.

  Gripping her lower back, Judas’ hand claws her closer, making her undershirt shirt rise and bunch in his fist. He presses her against him and makes her mouth widen as her legs part. His tongue is on hers in one instant, mating her, coaxing her to catch up to his possessed rhythm. And he takes and he takes, the tip of his tongue riding on a hot deep wave that hints right before the body of his tongue gyrates against hers. Continuing with the kiss, he slips two fingers inside her panties, rubbing and rolling her sensitive nubbin, pillaging every inch of the soft pink flesh.

  Pulling back from the kiss, he watches her, stroking her clit, softly, deathly slow, baiting her with his movements that break her in tormenting inches, traveling down her slippery sex and spreading everywhere at once. His other hand finds her hips, leading her forward as his breathing trembles against her open lovingly abused mouth.

  “Move.” He sounds so desperate, dangling at the breaking point of some abyss only she can save him from.

  She’s nearing on the crazy with this man.

  Drowning into the fire of him, Belle doesn’t think she can stand one more second. She has to have Judas inside her. Has to feel his thick pulsing cock thrust deep inside her again or she will go insane—die even.

  Her head hits the pillow and he shifts her undershirt up, his fingers never ceasing to rub her sex, leaning his full weight into her, against her hard aching nipples.

  “Christ, babe, you’re so wet for me.” He licks around one of her tips, teasing her wildly as he gently slips two fingers into her tunnel, forward and back. Stop and pause. Stop and pause. He doesn’t relent, keeping his full body on her. “God, you make me so fucking hard… I want you so bad.”

  “Oh God...” She moans, wrapping her legs high around him, her heels at the base of his naked back. Her body flows instantly with his, not missing a step as their pelvises swerve up and down. The unhurried tempo picks up, escalates. She feels so hot under him, the lips of her sex ready to erupt.

  Her head falls back, ready for her world to explode—but Judas grunts, “Wait.”

  He pulls his fingers out, hears her moan of protest, and kisses her lips sensually slow, breaking just the little that’s necessary to hook his finger around her white cotton panties. He leans back, enough for her to wiggle the small fabric down.

  His attention is back on her even before he’s thrown the garment across the room. He kisses her lips again, this time keeping his eyes open. His stare flames a silent message, tells her a story of what he demands, what she is going to feel. Her eyes stay open, feeling the stark nakedness of the moment and how it connects them.

  The darkness of the room encloses around the bed, absorbing all the color. The pigment of his eyes is gone, just black unashamed thundering desire spreading through him, his feelings for her penetrating in his stare. Without fully letting go, he uses one hand to re
ach for a foil packet in his pocket before sliding his jeans down, then his tight black boxer briefs.

  Belle doesn’t have time to be nervous or to feel even a glimpse of self-consciousness. He’s kissing her again, without inhibition, with a hunger that rattles her nerves into a crazed frenzy, making them stomp across the ends of each muscle, each bone, solidifying her in place. Her head sinks into the pillow as he devours her, emptying his starved attention for her on her mouth, wanting more the longer his mouth coerces and tames hers.

  With his other hand, he guides the wet tip of his engorged member near her entrance, circling the sensitive area with small advances, letting her know that he’s there. Ready. Her heels dig into his upper thigh as she whimpers against him, “Judas…” and her lips tangle into his.

  He pauses, rubs his upper lip over hers. The sterling color of blue descends for a second in his stare, illuminating his look, his movements, as he hovers over her.

  “I'll go slow,” he promises, huskily, as he places protection on. He sounds about ready to shatter.

  “No.” She shakes her head, tears in her eyes. The agonizing note in her voice seems to harden his erection like a steel pipe. “Don't, please.” A tear falls from the corner of her eye, and he immediately wipes it away, the tightness in her chest crushing her.

  His lips whisper a groan against hers, like a primitive nudge deepening his need to hear her beg. He pumps his cock against her, drawing the tip over and around her, goading for a reaction. “You want me to go slow?” he says, against her pining lips. “Belle?"

  “Judas, please…” She’s pulling at the back of his head. She doesn’t care if he’s in pain, all she understands is the relentless selfish crash of sensations that drive and stall over her. “I want you. I want to give you everything you want from me."

  The ripping quality of her plea seems to snap Judas’ intent to stretch this out, and all she sees is his face, and all she feels is the scorching thickness of him as he plunges into her in one, long, swift movement.

  Buried in her neck for a quick second, the spasm of an orgasm almost overcomes her from her erupting clit, but he stills, and sinks inside her, not moving…

  “You feel so good, Belle… so... pure...”

  Judas, all of a sudden, stills. He looks down at her like he’s a sinner who’s just entered a holy site; desecrating something so beautiful and pure, something that’s never meant to be touched by his filthy, evil hands.

  “Don't,” she whispers, her fingernails scraping the side of his jaw. “Whatever you're thinking—don't."

  “I’m a selfish bastard, Belle... I don’t deserve you.” Belle squirms and rises under him. “But you drive me crazy,” he whispers into the crook of her neck.

  Belle is quiet, but unstill, as he kisses and sucks on the different spots of her neck. His body begins to rock in small smooth motions—so smooth, like riding against a heated slope of liquid sensation. The synergy of his movements pulls at her, making her fall in timing with his pace.

  This time Judas yanks at the end of her hair making her mouth come to his, giving him a more dominant view of her. Their mouths fuse together, their bodies swinging like joint members of the same being following the beat their kisses create. The mass of sensation presses against every aching limb of her body, echoing and ricocheting off her skull like a bullet with no destination.

  Judas breaks away from the private cocoon their faces and lips created and hovers over her, bringing one hand back and around her upper thigh, the other gripping the edge of the bed right above her head. The slow sinuous action of his body gasps only to restart itself in frantic drills. He pistons in and out, unrelenting, pounding into her at just the right angle that his cock is brushing ever so slightly against her clit.

  “Judas.” Her nails scratch at his chest. She’s blinded by the pleasure, her face twisting and reddening, her mouth opening and closing. His name comes from some place so undiscovered inside her. Belle’s urgent call makes him wildly buck into her, plummeting in and out of her. She can feel her juices soaking him, the strength of his body staining her memory for life and her scream shreds the air around them.

  Her body shakes violently under his, seizure-like, and he goes with her willingly. His face bulging and contorting, he uses the last of his strength to make her come one more time by gripping her buttocks and forcing her body to feel the full weight of his cock embedded in her as he drives into her like a mad man.

  “Oh, baby…” He is coming; she can feel it, pulsating against her drenched channel. But he watches her as though too transfixed on watching her climax, like he’s addicted to the sight of her face and body as she shrinks and quivers below him.

  Judas is a god who can wield her in any way he rules.

  And she can only obey.

  “Again,” he growls. “Come for me again.” It isn’t a request.

  He catches the small flesh of her ear in between his teeth and delicately nips and strokes her with his tongue. He turns her to face him, sheltering her in between his large hands, drinking her in.

  Judas makes her come twice more before he finally lets her rest. But Belle can see in his eyes, he wants, needs… more.

  I’ve fallen into a dream… This can’t be real. He can’t be real…

  Judas withdraws his body from her and starts to roll off her when she plants one hand on his chest. “Hey,” her smoky voice calls out, “where are you going?"

  For the first time, he seems shy, ready to give her the space she needs. “I was… you need to rest."

  “You’re leaving me?"

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He pats his hand on the other side of the bed. “Okay?"

  “No."

  “No?” His smile is lopsided.

  She shakes her head, skimming his shoulder with her fingers, then down his solid arm. “Don't leave me.” Her eyes are veiled by her sleep-induced state. “I want you here. Right here. You belong here. With me."

  He kisses her forehead, sliding the covers that are under their bodies over them as gently as possible. Taking her into the warm space against his chest, he wraps her small body in him, his large shoulders barricading around her, dwarfing her presence so she almost seems an extended part of him.

  “Sleep,” he says.

  Her heart turns over. Just knowing Judas is going to keep guard and watch over her all night—it makes her physically ache. Resting her head on his chest, with his arms holding her tight, she drifts deep into the darkness that awaits her.

  And for the first time, with Judas by her side, she doesn’t fear the nightmares that await her.

  SOFT AND HUMMING, Belle wakes up surrounded by a quilted heat. It bleeds through her drowsy system, working at a crawl's pace, tingling and warming the crevasses and dips all over her body.

  It’s still dark outside, and the side of her face is pressed flat into the pillow, the other side walled in Judas’ cheek; the plane of his cheekbone resting against her comfortably. She can’t tell if he’s awake or not, his eyes are too far up, and she’ll have to twist her head high to get a good look.

  Her whole being feels weighed down, not by him, but with what she’s just been through with the fall. Her senses are on overload, sedated, but stirring on the brim of some appetite that never pauses for respite.

  “You okay?" a deep, rumbling voice asks.

  Her body leaps a little in place, but her head falls back into his shoulder, giving into a throaty laugh. “You need to stop doing that."

  He kisses her cheek, trailing another a little farther down her jawline. “Doing what?"

  Is he as aroused and hungry for her as he sounds? As she is for him? God, she moistens instantly, his lips alone stimulating parts he isn’t even near; the imprint of his kiss travels up and down her spine, spinning off in long, sharp glints down her body, then shooting back up to bounce and buzz in her breasts.

  His breathing picks up just as hers does; his blatant erection pressing just above her bottom. His fingers slide down th
e side of her and grab at the ends of her undershirt.

  “This. Goes. Now.” He makes her arms come up and wrenches it over her, throwing it somewhere behind him. “Should have ripped it off ages ago.”

  Her hand comes around to shield her nakedness, but he immediately puts a stop to it, placing his strong arm fully over hers and leading it back down to her side. “You're beautiful.” Judas looks down at her, but her face is forward. “You don't hide from me. Not now. Not ever."

  “Judas...” She closes her eyes. “…You don't have to say—"

  “No-one tells me what to say,” he answers in a low ripple, his brow knotting at her words. “It's the truth."

  “Judas.” She laughs, her chest rising, her nipples peeking out for a second beneath the sheet. “I just mean… a guy like… you must have been with more… you know… beautiful women..." When his dark look doesn’t relent, her small chuckle disintegrates somewhere low in her stomach. “Judas… let's just drop it, okay."

  “No."

  “Judas, please."

  Moving slowly, surely, with a devilish hint in his eyes, he leans back, his mouth falling over her earlobe, his breathing bursting out and hitting her, wiping their conversation from her head. His hands find her small peaks, cupping them ever so slightly with just the edge of his palms, and the rough, callous tips of his fingers.

  “You don't think you're beautiful?” he whispers erotically, his nose bends into her hair as each syllable slips out, more dangerously alluring then the next. The hotness of his mouth, coupled with his words, draws her, makes her soar above herself. He uses the flatness of his palms first, skimming the stiff points, breezing against them in a taunting way as he grinds into her from behind. “Huh?"

  “J-Judas,” she stutters, grinding up against him as well, indulging in her softness against his hardness; delighting as she feels his cock turn to steel.

  “You like that?” He twists her nipples slowly in between his fingers, mercilessly, his hands taking mouthfuls of her, as though loving the solid sweet heaviness of her in his hands. He plucks at her like he’s out for revenge, while kissing a line down her neck, then back up, slowly, with each plop of his lips. With one hand he parts her thighs and moans, satisfied, like he finds her just the way he knows she will be. Wet. Quivering. Enflamed. His two fingers part her, find her clit swollen, throbbing, and nudges the flesh up and into his capable hand.