by Nora Flite
I'd spent a lot of time imagining the ways Marina would scream. There were two possibilities, and I categorized them by my urges. The first kind was a high pitched, distraught squeal as she realized I was going to be the last thing she'd see before her heart stopped. That scream would set Jacob and me free.
The latter—the brand I was indulging in now and didn't have to imagine—was the low rumble of her passion. So far, I preferred this version.
“Kite, wait,” she hissed at me.
“No. I waited long enough.” I pushed my hand into her back, arched her against me so I could swaddle my face in her creamy tits.
Her nails cut through my shirt, still trying to get under it. “What? You only met me yesterday,” she argued weakly.
“I know. And it's been too fucking long.” I slid lower, tasting her stomach, the indent of her belly button that I could lose myself in. But there were better things waiting for me. Sweeter treats on the map of Marina Fidel.
Her jean button clicked in my teeth. Glancing up the landscape of her wide hips and bury-your-hands-here-waist, I saw her watching me. Little Miss Composed and Confident, now she had a fist in her mouth to quiet her moans.
You might say I was moving too fast. I wasn't joking when I'd told her I had waited too long. My life was a whirlwind of have it now or lose it forever. Patience was fine when you were staking out how to pierce the soft spot between a man's eyes with a bullet. If you wanted your way with a woman, here, in New York City?
Move fast or forget your claim.
I'd claimed Marina—just as I had claimed her life. I wasn't the only one to claim her, I thought distantly. But that wasn't something I could address at the moment. Whatever Jacob wanted out of this—from her or for her, it had to wait.
And if he did want to act on his own desire for her... well. We'd been down that road before. We had a protocol for this sort of thing. A strict, but basic, rule. I knew how it would resolve, and I was okay with the potential outcome.
For now, I had her to myself.
And that let me be greedy.
My needs were consuming my rationality. I know, earlier I said touching her made me feel guilty. With her thighs around my face, fuck it all. I forgot how the word guilt was spelled.
Ripping her jeans down her soft legs, I hooked her heels over my shoulders. The pants were bunched around her shoes, trapping her satin-clad pussy inches from my smile. She couldn't get away, and neither could I. Why would I want to?
Pressing my nose into the damp crease of her cunt, I inhaled until my head swam. This was different than the river meant for lost souls. Marina's scent was an ocean that cradled me and tempted me to swallow mouthfuls of her. I was still losing myself, but this way was... better.
Warmer.
Ripping her panties to the side, I spread the plump lips of her pussy and just looked at her. Marina was panting, eyes glassy and frozen on my every movement. Closing my eyes, I breathed in until my ribs creaked. Staring up at her under half-closed lids, I nuzzled her wetness and growled. “You're dangerous, sweetie.”
Her pitch-black irises twinkled. “I thought you said I wasn't a 'god damn assassin.'”
Chuckling, I enjoyed how she quivered when my breath tickled her clit. It was winking at me, calling my name. I was a monster, but I wasn't rude. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you'll kill me right here. It'd be a glorious way to go, that's for sure.”
I heard her hiss through clenched teeth. Then my lips came down, kissing the swollen pink nub between her thighs. Every muscle in her body went taut, her legs a vice on my skull and begging me to keep going.
Parting her with my fingertips, I lapped at her slick juices. In my pants, my dick was telling me to fuck off and let it free. I would have listened, but I was drunk on Marina's flavor.
Trembling against my cheeks, she yanked at my hair. “Hurry up and fuck me,” she whined.
“Eager much?” I teased, gliding two fingers along her slippery entrance. I stuffed them inside slowly, enjoying how her pussy flexed and hugged me. I was obsessed with feeling her reactions. “I'm not ready to fuck you yet,” I said.
“I don't care,” she groaned, tossing her head back. Her hair swirled, flicking away a fragment of glass. It was amazing we hadn't cut ourselves yet on that filthy floor. “Don't be cruel, just do it! Please!”
Flattening my tongue, I rubbed it over her clit and thrilled at her throaty sob. I was in her up to the knuckles, my tattoos vanishing. “No,” I whispered. Smirking at her, I curled my fingers and scraped the roof of her thrumming hole. “Come for me first. Then I'll fuck you. Is that really so cruel?”
Her face was flushed, she didn't respond. Biting her wrist, she turned away and humped that sweet ass into the air. Grinding against me, Marina tried to get more of my fingers, more of me. I loved women, and I got off on making them squeal and come. Few things fed the ego so well as a sexy pair of bucking hips.
Marina would come for me, the way I demanded.
If she thought that was unfair, then she had a lot to learn.
Pumping faster, I nibbled the very edge of her sensitive hood. I needed as much of her as I could get, and I was starting to lose my composure. Marina wasn't holding back anymore. Her voice keened high, you'd think I was torturing her. I sensed the subtle change in the heat of her cunt, the vibrations as she clamped down on my fingers. Pinning me by the ears, her legs held me steady while she finally came. Let me drown here, it'd be worth the newspaper clipping. Jacob would put it on my tombstone: He suffocated between a pair of perfect thighs.
Shivering, I tugged my fingers out of her, ignoring her disagreeable whimper. “What,” I teased. “Now you want them back inside? I thought you wanted my cock?”
Her eyes were jewels, her pink blush priceless. “Maybe I don't, now,” she heaved. Her breasts were shaking with her gulps of air. “Maybe you waited too long.” Unhooking her ankles, I ducked out from under her. “Wait!” she gasped, reaching out for me. She caught my sly smile, and then she scowled. “Don't joke around, Kite.”
Tugging my jacket off, I smoothed my hair. I could smell her on my hands. The scent was another chain link in my brain. Marina was trapping me. “I'm not joking,” I said firmly. “I am very serious about what I'm going to do to you.” Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out a condom. Don't think I had it on me just for her. I carried them everywhere. Remember, no mistakes. “Stand up.”
Kicking her pants and shoes off of her feet, she hurried to do so. The insides of her thighs were shimmering. I spread my jacket out, creating a safer place for us both. Lifting my eyes, I planned to motion for her to lay back down—but being level with her hips stopped me.
She made a tiny noise, stumbling as I yanked her closer. On my knees, I nuzzled the side of her thick, curved ass. “You are so god damn gorgeous, it's a travesty,” I said against her flesh.
Reaching down, she took hold of my shirt. “Can I...?”
“Undress me? Yes.” Leaning away, I let her guide the clothing over my head. My hair was tossed, coppery strands blinding me. When I could see again, I gazed up at the appreciative face of Marina.
Her hands trembled, she touched my bare shoulders and used me to support her balance. “I was right,” she said, satisfied.
Helping her kneel, I stroked the side of her throat. The way her lashes fluttered, they might as well have tickled across my swollen cock. “About what?” I asked.
She only smiled, a little sideways tilt of her lips. Crooking a finger at me, she splayed on her back. Her thumbs tucked into the sides of her soaked panties, pulling them down. She had to lift her feet up, pointing her toes. I had the ultimate view, and I saw my hands grab her ankles before I even debated it. “Fuck, who thought it was fair to the rest of the world to create only one of you?” I growled.
The button of my jeans popped, zipper grinding down. The reddish tip of my engorged cock peeked over the top of my boxers. Marina saw it, licked her lips, and I just fucking gave up any attempt at control.
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Yanking the last of my clothing down, I fisted the base of my shaft. It arched into the air, veins like serpents on a sugar high. Deftly, I opened the condom and stretched it over my girth.
I had her ankles, crossing them together and bending them towards her face. Marina was flexible, but I pushed her to the brink of discomfort. Those carved thighs were rubbing, her pussy beckoning at me.
I didn't ask if she was ready. The trail of juice said enough.
Sinking into her, I fought not to close my eyes. I wanted to see every tiny reaction on her face. How she winced, pursed her lips, cooed and then groaned. Marina's ears did something I'd never noticed before on a woman; the tips went crimson.
I wondered if I was the first to notice it happen. Were other men as aware as me?
No. No, they weren't even close.
“Kite, fucking... Kite!”
“That's right,” I grunted, watching her around her curled toes. “I am fucking you.”
She squeezed me, milking my cock without consideration for how good it felt or how she was ruining me. “Please, more!” she cried. Grimacing, I bared me teeth and slammed deeper. How the hell could she take this and ask for more? How insatiable was this woman?
Nails came up, trying to reach me. On reflex, I bent away; caught the flash of disappointment in her eyes. It was in my blood, though, the desire to be cautious.
A condom left no evidence.
And I knew what DNA nails could steal.
Pushing the guilt down, I buried myself in her desperate cunt and pretended I hadn't just given away my game. Even if I didn't kill her tonight, even if it wasn't for a week, or a month—please let me have a month—I couldn't slip up. Not once.
So then what the hell are you doing now? I asked myself, my passionate groans in my ears. I was on the verge of finishing, my lower belly a solid ball of fire... but that wasn't the issue. In my head, Marina's question reached me.
Why?
That was all she'd asked. And I still didn't know.
What logic was there in getting hooked on this girl when her future was a body bag?
Shutting my eyes tight, I leaned into her harder. I had her pinned, but somehow, she spread her thighs and I slipped through. The barrier was gone, my bare chest crushed on her firm tits. Instantly she had her fingers in my hair, her lips on mine, and her nails were digging into my back.
Digging hard. Intentionally hard.
She knows what I was thinking. This is how she tells me.
Marina wasn't stupid. God, if only she had been. Biting my neck, she ground her hips into me and I clasped her soft ass. The way she breathed, smelled, existed... all of it shoved me over the edge.
Roaring so viscerally I sent dirt swirling over the floor, I put my nose in her thick curls and trembled. The orgasm locked me up, turned my fibers into lava. Under me, her body joined the race. Beautiful fucking Marina, Marina the natural. She came seconds after I did, her pussy embracing my twitching cock.
Sweat dripped off of my chin. It hit her on the cheek when I leaned back. With my hands on either side of her face, she could do nothing but stare up at me. Stunning, glowing, accusing eyes. It wasn't ideal. My back burned from her cuts, her awareness hurt so much more. I didn't want to look into her knowing expression another minute. I kept seeing the future corpse she'd become.
Grunting, I slid my hips back; the shiny condom came with me. Crouching, I guided it off and tied it into a knot. Nothing escaped. One handed, I pulled up my pants, zipping them as I moved.
“What are you doing?” she asked, propping on her elbows.
Leaning out the door, I dug with my heel into the ground. The condom fell, covered in soil and on its way to being decomposed. Everything was temporary. Everything could be buried. “Nothing. Just getting some air,” I said.
I stood like that, shirtless in the February chill. I could see nothing in the night, the stars useless pinpricks. The rest of the world could have been destroyed, eaten up while we'd been fucking. We wouldn't have noticed.
What if it had been? I asked myself. What if the universe could wink out, just like that, somehow converting into nothingness.
Knowing what lay waiting for me in my future, what fate I was obligated to hand down to Marina...
Being sucked into the blackness would have been a relief.
- Chapter Eleven -
Marina
Okay. I might have done a stupid thing.
And you probably think the worst of me, now. But look. I didn't act without thinking.
Mostly.
Kite had been an accident. I didn't have a plan to kiss him—or to let him kiss me. I'd felt the natural pull he possessed. I'd felt it the first night we spoke. The man was as charming and alluring as his friend.
And that is why you might say I did a stupid thing.
Wanting to kiss or touch or fuck either of these men was, well, reckless. At the very least, illogical. They were in my head, in my nose and in my blood. I'd been on edge since day one, stalking them outside their bar. They had a way of staying in my cells. Poisonous men... deadly men.
I wonder if there exists an antidote for attraction?
Staring sideways at Kite, I continued to search for what to say. He hadn't spoken more than a word or two since we'd gathered up everything and left the shooting range. The duffel bag was at my feet, the weight of it comforting on my ankles.
It helped keep me from jumping out of the car.
Say something, I told myself. We've been on the road for an hour. The city is coming up any minute. In the distance, the lights blinked. The highway was filled around us, as if it wasn't actually late at all.
The evening had been going so well. I didn't know why that had stopped. Kite had tasted delicious, and as pathetic as it sounds, I was excited when he kissed me. His hands were skilled, his words inviting. He'd had my panties soaked and my heart in my throat so fast I'd gotten dizzy. A small part of me wanted to understand why he—a man who had killed without repent—would want anything to do with me, the girl he considered a burden.
I wasn't disillusion.
I was definitely a burden. I'd swung into his world, Jacob's world, and coerced them. I hadn't known they were 'out of the game' or whatever. They didn't want to help, and I had made them.
And now Kite has done something he regrets. That was what it was: regret. It came off of him in waves, how he hunched over the steering wheel and glared at the road. Fucking me, it had been a mistake. Probably for us both. So why was my heart beating so fast when I thought about it?
The guilt I had, it wasn't over giving in to a murderer. I felt bad because I actually liked both him and his friend. Just today, I'd eaten Jacob up with my eyes and hoped he'd lean in and take his own bite. Then I'd gone off and melted in Kite's arms.
It left my head foggy, my stomach twisting.
So just say something and break this tension! I screamed mentally. Clearing my throat once, then twice, I looked at Kite. “Thanks for teaching me to shoot.”
He glanced at me, then nodded. “Yeah. You did pretty good.”
His compliment thrilled me. Just like he'd thrilled me when he'd been touching me, guiding my hands and whispering in my ear on the range. He really was enticing. Knowing what he could do to me, seeing his impossibly well-cut body, resisting would be harder. That is... unless he never made an attempt again.
Looking at my nails, I remembered how I'd scratched him. It was a spontaneous thing. I was feeling more and more sure he wouldn't bother killing me anytime soon, but still, I'd wanted to ensure that if he was going to have his way with me... I'd get a little more time. Just a little.
That, or I'd guaranteed he'd give me the acid bath, now.
“Anyway,” I muttered, peering out as we rolled into the city. “At the rate I'm going, I'll be ready to kill that guy by the time you and Jacob actually find him.”
I heard him crush the wheel. “Oh?” he whispered. “You really think some practice shots are going to prepare
you for that?”
Blinking, I tightened my mouth. “Yes. Why else would I learn?” When he said nothing, just took us down a dark side-street, I pressed on. His mood was getting under my skin. “How else am I supposed to practice? Isn't that how you said you two did it? If I can guarantee the fatal shot, I'll definitely be able to—”
“It isn't the same,” he snapped. He turned off the headlights, the car driving at a snail's pace down another quiet road. I didn't know where we were, but the area looked destitute. Buildings stood like toothless giants, garbage piled on corners. “Even if you line up a shot that will kill, practicing with a paper target won't make you ready to fire on a living person.” Kite was speaking with a raw edge in his voice.
A heavy pit formed in my guts. “What else can I possibly do to be ready, then?” I asked uneasily.
Leaning over, he reached into his duffel bag. He was close to me, bending near to get at it on my side of the car. In the dark, the barrel of the Ruger shone like diamond dust. It shouldn't have been out in the open. Why take it out here? It brought with it a fearful premonition, especially when he offered it to me.
In the car, the single light a flickering, orange street lamp outside, Kite's frown was as grizzly as a jack o' lantern. “The only thing that prepares you for killing, is to actually fucking kill.”
I didn't touch the weapon. My tongue was numb. “What?”
Gesturing ahead, Kite had me look out the window. A few yards down on the empty street, there was a man curled up on a filthy bus stop. He didn't see us, he didn't even lift his head.
The word that escaped me was strained. “No.”
Kite shoved the gun at me again. “You keep talking like you're already a hitman. You want to avenge your family and murder someone. Marina, answer me.”
I was sure my heart had stopped. “I'm not shooting someone I don't even know.”
“You think you know the man you want dead? You don't know his name, he's a stranger to you.” He moved fast, taking my wrist, slapping the gun's handle into my fingers and trapping them.