by Jaden Wilkes
“Yes?” he asked.
“I love you,” she replied.
“I love you too, little dove,” he told her and moved forward to kiss her pussy with his beautiful lips. She fell backwards onto the thick blankets and opened her thighs to receive him. He pried her open with his tongue and slid it up and down, and back again. She moaned and moved against his face, he responded with a moan of his own. His deep baritone vibrated against her clit and she gasped.
She curled her fingers through the top blanket and thrashed her head back and forth. The cut on her arm burned, but his sucking and nibbling burned even hotter, erasing any need to destroy herself. Why destroy her body when Dimitri was dismantling her and putting her back together with each pass of his thick, hot tongue?
She needed him inside of her and said so. He didn’t seem to hear her or want to stop so she twisted against him and tried to rise up.
“Dimi,” she gasped, “I said I need you. I need your cock, let me come on your cock.”
He looked up, his own eyes burning with the fire she felt on her skin from his touch. She was water where he was fire; she was flowing through him as he blazed across her landscape. He pulled back and stood above her, his cock in his hand. “Does this feel like just sex?” he asked and got on the bed next to her.
“No,” she said, “not even close. This is so much more. This is love.”
“It is,” he said and moved her up the bed with him. “This is love,” he continued and traced his finger along her body, setting her on fire as he went.
He lifted himself over her body and slid himself inside of her. She cried out as he plunged deep, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around him. He leaned down and whispered in her ear his words of love and promises and of their future together.
She had any thoughts of other men driven from her body with each thrust, and finally understood on every level that theirs was more than sex. It was love, sex, lust and desire along with a deep, ancient connection between two perfectly matched beings. It was something on a cellular level, as though everything she ever was and ever would be was there simply to be his.
His hand found her throat as he fucked her, he squeezed and she gasped at the added sensation. When he closed his fingers, she felt as though they were floating together in some place beyond eternity. She opened her eyes and stared into his, moved towards him and sunk her teeth into his shoulder.
He grunted at the pain, she hadn’t done this for a while and now she realized why she loved it. It made her feel as though their fucking had a continuum, if he grabbed her throat and she bit his flesh, the energy of their love and sex would flow through the both of them, gaining power as it moved through their bodies.
He loosened his grip and slowed his pace, paused and she looked up at him, letting go of his shoulder. “You are my warrior, my queen, my little dove,” he said and slid his length inside of her. “You are my love,” he said and pulled out, staring into her eyes.
She sighed, a quavering breath that seemed to indicate a change in everything they had together. They had always been good at fucking, but this felt more like a sensual exploration of their bodies and an entwining of their souls. “You are my man, my protector and my everything,” she replied and drew herself up to meet him, as if in slow motion. She could feel his cock buried inside of her, the throbbing intensity almost too much to bear. Almost. But not quite, for just when she thought she was so full of love for him that surely it would break her, she found new places for him to exist. “I would die for you,” she said and felt tears forming in her eyes.
“I would live for you,” he replied and slid away, withdrawing like waves on an ocean pulling back from the shore. “I would kill for you,” he said and rushed back up against her, the water hitting the sand.
“I would live for you,” they said together and came together like the waves crashing against the jagged rocks, furious and passionate and for an eternity.
A short time later, as she lay there and listened to him breathing in the darkened room, she realized one important thing. She would live for him. Her entire life had been spent looking for a way out, an escape; some way to run from what was harming her. Now she no longer needed an escape route, a fire exit, a way to end things if they got too bad. She would live for him because she couldn’t imagine a world without him and heaven or hell would have to wait until they took them together.
Chapter Six
Columbia was certain she had mastered the art of killing a man; the problem was that she now had to prove it to Dimitri. She spun as he lunged for her, he missed her by millimeters, and she escaped his grasp. They were sparring on the open rooftop deck. Nico had declared her well trained over dinner the evening before, and Dimitri had decided to test this declaration.
“Almost,” he grunted as she moved away. She had held him off for only a couple of minutes but she could see he would capture her quickly. Those slow movements she silently mocked him for now translated into lightning fast, deadly strikes against her.
“Almost doesn’t count,” she gloated, knowing she wouldn’t have this chance for long. She backed up a step and let him come after her.
“Watch your right side,” Nico said from the low bench next to the practice area.
“Whose side are you on?” Dimitri grumbled at his friend.
“I trained her, of course I want her to win,” Nico replied, “and if only one of us were to beat you, I’d rather it be her. I know you’re not going to take it out on her the next time you meet, you’ll just take it out on her pussy.” He was enjoying this a little too much Columbia thought. Maybe Dimitri was right, sex or fighting, something physical with no emotional connection could be equal in enjoyment. She certainly was all about taking his power in this scenario.
“I love sucking your cock,” she blurted as he came for her again. She was scrambling to set him off, to get under his skin somehow. For a moment it seemed like it would work. She went low and rolled past him, but he turned at the last minute and struck her on the back. She felt the air leave her lungs and she collapsed, defeated by his blow.
She lay on her side gasping to fill her lungs with air again and he dropped beside her. “Are you okay?” he asked and rubbed her shoulder. She was on her side trying to uncurl from the reflexive position she’d gone into when she fell.
“I’m ok,” she gasped, “I mean I’ll be ok when I can breathe.” She rolled flat on her back and looked up at the sky. It was early in the morning and the air was cooler than normal. Over six months had passed since she left Vancouver, and the autumn air hit her and for the first time, she had a poignant longing for her home city.
“I’m sorry,” he said and helped her sit up. He moved behind her and cradled her in his arms. “I tried to be gentle with you.”
“That was gentle?” she asked and gave snort of amusement.
“It truly was,” Nico told her, “I should know, I can’t tell you how many times he’s knocked me out by not being gentle.”
“That explains a lot,” she said with a grin.
“Hey, I’ve taught you everything I know,” Nico replied, matching her grin.
“Which is obviously not enough,” Dimitri said and stood up. He offered his hand to Columbia; she took it and rose to stand next to him.
“I need to learn how to cheat,” she said and brushed imaginary dirt off her pants. They hadn’t even had breakfast yet, perhaps that was the issue, she was hungry. She could feel her stomach growl at the thought of food. “If only there was some way I could cheat at this, I would do it in a heartbeat just to kick your ass, Dimi.”
“Don’t cheat when you fight,” he replied.
“Why would cheating be a bad thing?” she asked, “I would think doing anything you can possibly do to win is good.”
“It’s impossible to cheat when you’re in a real fight,” Nico said and sat entirely too still with a smug look on his face. Columbia hated it when they felt the need to school her, no matter how much she needed to le
arn.
“Cheating itself isn’t bad, but the results of cheating are. If you cheat, it means you doubt yourself, your ability to win,” he said, “and if you doubt yourself that much, you’ve already lost the fight.”
“It’s too early to be so damn right,” she said and glared at him. “Can we at least have breakfast before we start in on the philosophical shit?” she asked, but took what he said to heart. She didn’t know if she would ever best him in a fight, but next time she would fight twice as hard. It felt good to finally be able to spar with him, even if he did kick her ass.
*****
The morning after their first day of fighting, Columbia woke with a smile on her face and an ache in her body. Dimitri had spent the night fucking her as hard as he fought her and she would be paying for it today. She decided to take the day off training; she deserved it after what her body had been through in the last twenty-four hours. She stretched and felt her joints crack, settling back into place after her workouts.
Dimitri was snoring lightly next to her, a steady rhythm that she was growing accustomed to. It would prove difficult to sleep without it if she ever left his side again. She decided to never sleep away from him again if she could help it. She loved the times spent curled up in his embrace while they slept almost as much as everything else they did together.
She rubbed her neck and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stretched and blinked to clear the sleep from her eyes. She reached up to remove the metal collar around her neck; she thought she might be able to go a night or two without it soon. It had been a while since he attacked her in his sleep, it seemed as though her presence now settled him, although she did wake occasionally to find him thrashing against some mysterious foe.
She sat on the side of the bed, not wanting to start her day and yet not wanting to sink back into sleep. Half a year had passed since she killed her stepfather. She had never allowed herself to think about it, really run through the events of that night, but lately memories of it were creeping back into her consciousness.
She knew he was going to flip a switch that night, when she challenged him, and she felt there was no way out. If she had stayed behind, she would have been tossed into jail for sure. In all the years he’d climbed on top of her, she had never told a single soul. She always suspected her mother knew, what kind of woman wouldn’t? But she never told her mother, never wanted to interrupt her private world of working and cheating and drinking.
If only her real father hadn’t died, if only he had survived she would have grown up in a happy, normal family. She looked behind her at her beautiful, savage man laying on their bed, his limbs outstretched and his face soft and content. She knew her rambling thoughts were nonsensical, for if her dad had lived, she never would have found her way to Dimitri. Their paths crossed because of everything that happened to them. Their love was a sum of their combined parts, the good and the bad, and she wouldn’t change that for the world.
In the quiet, in the morning, she did admit to herself that she wished she hadn’t killed her stepfather the way she had. She wasn’t upset by the blood that was spilled, but she was more upset that she hadn’t been able to take her time with him, really make him suffer for everything that had happened to her.
She could see the knife flash in her hand, and his look of surprise and horror as he realized what she was about to do. She brought the knife down as hard as she could, but she was swinging wildly and hit bone the first few times, so he was able to hit her again after his first fist to the face. She’d felt none of it.
To this day she didn’t know how she had gotten to the knife so fast. She had used it earlier to separate a couple slices of pizza that had stuck together with melted cheese. How quickly a domestic tool had become an instrument of death.
He wasn’t a big man, and certainly not as strong as Dimitri, but she probably could have stopped a raging elephant that night with the adrenaline coursing through her veins. His face had contorted with pain and fury as the knife finally bypassed his ribs and hit his softer parts, his vital organs.
She hadn’t planned it out, it had happened in a cyclone of suppressed rage being released, a swirling mass of vengeful girl and flashing kitchen knife. He didn’t last long after she hit his stomach and worked her way up. Intuitively she knew where his heart was and hit it at last, causing the light to leave his eyes.
She had kept stabbing though, unable to stop herself. She felt like a wind up doll, having to run through some cycle before she could collapse on the dirty linoleum floor of the kitchen and watch the blood pour from his body.
The blood had fascinated her, his blood, the patterns it made on her clothing, the cupboards, the floor. She’d fought the impulse to roll in it, to touch it, to paint her body with it and go on some bizarre warpath, stabbing and killing men as she stormed through the streets back to her lover.
Instead she had stood on shaky legs and reached for the phone to call 911. She’d heard a gasp behind her and turned to find Eden in the doorway, holding her empty plate and can of Coke, a mask of horror on her face.
“What did you do?” Eden had asked, barely above a whisper. Her mouth had moved as if she wanted to say something more, but she couldn’t get the words out.
“He deserved it, I swear to you, he had it coming,” Columbia had said, trying to get Eden on her side to understand why she had snapped like that. “I should have done it years ago…but now you’ll be safe, when I go away you’ll be safe from him.”
“Why would I need to be safe from my own Dad?” Eden had asked and dropped her empty can and plate and rushed to her father’s side. The plate hadn’t shattered, Columbia thought that was strange for some reason. The bizarre little pieces of detail your brain picks out when it’s running a few thousand miles a minute.
“I have to go,” Columbia had said and handed the phone to Eden, “call 911 when I leave. Give me a few minutes to get away, ok? Promise?”
Eden had nodded her consent, taken the phone and sat there in a pool of thickening blood next to her dead father.
Columbia had left the house with nothing, just the clothes on her back. She had nothing sentimental, no ties to anything she could think of that night. She had just wanted out, and Dimitri was where she wanted to be.
She’d heard sirens as she crossed Broadway, a few blocks from their house. She’d run almost the entire way back to Dimitri, her clothes spattered in blood so she couldn’t take the bus even if she did have money. She’d gained access through the service entrance she’d gone through the first time and banged on the front door until a security guard had opened it. When it was obvious she wasn’t going anywhere, they had gone to get Nico.
Her first glimpse of him wasn’t favourable. She recognized on some level that he was attractive, but the disgust on his face curled his lip into a sneer and left his eyes cold and devoid of compassion.
She needed compassion that night. By the time she was lead to Dimi’s arms, she had been shaking so hard she didn’t know how she was placing one foot in front of the other.
By then she had blanked out most of the incident, but now it was all coming back.
The rasping breath when she hit a lung.
The rattle of blood in his throat as he coughed it up.
The light leaving his eyes.
And the exhilarating sensation of steel entering flesh, and the ultimate power of taking a life.
Her hands were trembling as she sat on the side of the bed and realized what she had been missing. It wasn’t sex with Nico, it wasn’t cutting her own flesh…she was missing the sensation she’d gotten while killing the monster who had haunted her nightmares for all those years. The Wolf who had ruled her waking world and devoured her in the nighttime. Killing was what she was missing, and killing was what she needed.
She had completely forgotten how good she felt when she had spilled the details to Dimitri. She had blocked out how alive she felt after coming down from her rush. She would remember from now on though,
remember the thrill his death had given her.
Satisfied with her self-exploration, she rolled back and slipped under the covers. Dimitri moved against her and wrapped his arms around her. His body was impossibly warm and safe.
“What were you doing?” he asked in a dreamy, sleepy voice. She loved this voice, it felt intimate and secret, like some forest path no one had ever been down.
“Just thinking about life,” she replied and wiggled back against him. He nuzzled her neck and within seconds had fallen back into his own internal world of dreams and rest.
*****
“What if we only targeted bad people?” Columbia asked Dimitri as they took advantage of the break in the weather. The sun shone down on them as they cuddled on the large lounge chair next to the pool. Autumn in Hong Kong wasn’t cold compared to Vancouver, but the rains were unrelenting at times.
“How can you be sure they are bad?” he replied, “And how do you define bad?”
“I don’t know, just bad. Criminals. Thieves and rapists and murderers and such,” she said, bristling at his questions. She hadn’t thought things through but she didn’t like to be reminded of such.
“Things aren’t always black and white, little dove,” he said gently and ran his fingers through her tangled hair, “some might call you and I murderers, does that mean we deserve to die?”
“Of course not,” she exclaimed, “but there’s got to be some way to figure out who we can kill without feeling guilty about it. For example, I am going to kill Sergei, and I will feel utterly no remorse about it.” She had been thinking about her reaction to killing her stepfather since the morning it occurred to her that she enjoyed it. For a few days now she had taken the concept of killing for pleasure, rolled it around in her head and examined it from all sides. She was convinced this was the only way she could be successfully rehabilitated from slashing herself. If she could take that poison and direct it at those who deserved it, things would be in balance for her.