Just the way she talks about it makes me cringe, as though I’m a racehorse meant to be ridden until I’m injured, used up, or too old to continue.
Jeanine stops, adjusting the shawl over her shoulders as she points toward the open door.
“This is your new room.”
It’s the size of a cupboard, and completely bare. A vanity, bed, and dresser. My whitened face stares back at me in the mirror.
“Now I suggest you get changed. You’ve already been bought for the evening.” She smiles at me encouragingly. “Handsome man.”
“What? Already?”
I clutch my box to my chest.
“Yes. I told you what would happen.” Her face drops suddenly. “Oh, and, I’m sorry for your loss, honey.”
Sorry about your dead dad. Now you’re a whore. Deal with it. This whole place is fucking stupid.
I am worth more than this.
I rip off my clothes and change into the red dress they left me. It’s a low-cut, formfitting thing that wraps around my body like a bandage and pushes my tits out on display. I look ridiculous.
My head pounds as I pace the small room, waiting for my john. She didn’t mention a name. I twist a strand of hair around my finger, chewing on my lip as I wait for him to arrive.
Oh God, I don’t know if I can do this.
“Fawn!” Jeanine’s voice calls through the door.
I clench my hands to keep myself from bursting out loud that there was a mistake. I can’t do this. My dad just fucking died, and everything I knew was being ripped away from me.
You’re doing what you have to do to survive.
My hand grasps the door handle, my newly painted nails bright red, and I pull the door.
The air freezes as Silas stands in the doorway, dressed in the same crimson shirt that all the syndicate members wear. I can’t believe it. He said that I would never see him again.
My body floods with warmth as he gives me a nod. “Hey, there.”
Jeanine smiles at me ear to ear before bowing away, and then Silas steps into my cramped room, shutting the door behind him.
It’s suffocating to have him in the same room, and also embarrassing. The last time I saw him, I was the girl who was always slightly out of reach. Now I’m his whore.
“You bought me?”
He takes a giant step forward and wraps his arm around my waist. “I wanted you.” His fingers graze the thin fabric of my dress, sending electrical jolts of pleasure to my skin.
“You said it was a one-time thing.”
“I know what I said.” His voice cracks with strain, and then I notice the pinched look on his face, as though he’s had sleepless nights. “They made me a member.”
“I thought you were leaving.”
“I had no choice. I’m stuck here, just like you.”
Just like me.
My skin tingles as he reaches for the straps of my dress.
“What are you doing here?”
He laughs. “What do you think, sweetheart? I paid for an hour with you, and I intend to get it.”
My spirits, which lifted to exponential heights when he walked through that door, come crashing down. I thought for a moment that he was going to take me away.
But why the fuck would he do that?
“Hey,” he says, touching my chin. “You had fun the other night, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to be your whore.”
His hand slips, curving around my neck as he pulls me to his chest. God, he feels so good. A strong heartbeat thrums against his ribs, and his male musk invades my nostrils. Suddenly I remember his mouth on my neck, his naked body slick with sweat, and how the smell of him clung to my sheets.
“How else was I supposed to see you again?”
His fingers curl into the back of my head, digging into my scalp. Then he bends his head, his breath sweet over my lips. I arc my head, seizing his teasing mouth. His other hand slowly undresses me, tugging the tight fabric over my tits.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that wet pussy of yours.”
Silas barely lets me breathe before he gives me another long, hungry kiss. My naked skin burns in the cool air, the very presence of him enough to make the room feel stifling. I touch his waist, remembering how big he felt inside me.
“I’m still sore.”
“You just need practice,” he says with a wicked grin.
My skin stings as he kisses a line down my throat and between my tits. Then he grabs the edges of my dress and yanks so hard that it tears, but he doesn’t seem to give a fuck. Blind lust controls his movements, and he kisses me all the way down. He sucks me in and bites, overwhelmed, until I feel cool air hit my wet pussy.
“Spread your legs.”
I feel his command breathing over my wetness, and I spread my legs as the ache pounds inside me, watching him lean forward on his knees. What’s he doing?
Then his tongue reaches out, tasting me, rolling up and down my clit.
“Silas!”
I scream his name in a high whisper, balling my fists in his wavy hair as he licks me all the way back, his lips glistening with my juice.
The waves of pleasure feel like a thunderous force rolling through my body. I can barely stand. His lips are locked around my pussy, and his tongue reaches inside me as he smooths my thighs with his hands.
The wet sound he makes when he pulls away makes my pussy clench.
“I needed to get a taste of you.” He grabs my ass, licking his lips. Then he kisses my inner thigh, and I yelp as that kiss becomes a bite. He laughs and squeezes my ass.
I feel like I’m a piece of meat for him. Something to suck, fuck, and bite. Then he stands up and pins me against the wall, and I’m sure the girls next door can hear us.
My heart flutters as he kisses my neck, his smile brushing my skin.
“What?”
“Suck my cock.”
He pushes down on my shoulders, and I realize how eager I am to take him in my mouth. He ate me out and gave me a throbbing ache—now I want to do the same to him. My nipples burn as he quickly undoes his belt and shoves down his slacks. Then his big hand pushes the back of my head and I have no choice but to swallow his thick cock. He sighs richly as I take him in my throat. I catch a glimpse of myself on my knees, my lips pressed firmly against his hips as he takes me all the way. My throat bulges, and I gag, watching his thickness slide out of me and pressing my lips against his balls when he flattens his hand against the back of my head.
“That’s it. Take me all the way.”
A string of saliva hangs over my chin as I suck him off, but I’m addicted to feeling the blood pounding through his cock, how he’s using my mouth like a fuck-toy. I love it. I reach down, touching myself.
He pulls out, giving my mouth a break as I gasp and look up at him. He smiles at me, his face split by a wide grin.
“What?”
“I thought you’d be different. You don’t suck cock like a spoiled princess.”
A flash of heat sears my cheeks. “I want you to want me.”
“I fucking do.”
He grabs my head and pushes himself through my lips, fucking my mouth hard and deep. His cock hits the back of my throat, and then I hear his breath quickening. My heart hammers, realizing that he’s close.
He’s going to come in my mouth.
I’ve never done it before.
“You’re going to suck every fucking drop from me.”
He growls it out in a warning—a threat—but there’s nothing more than I want in that moment. Silas’s length hitches in my throat as he buries himself deep enough for me to gag, and then he lets out a long groan. My mouth floods with warmth as he pulses in and out, and the liquid rushes down my throat. I let it swirl around my tongue as his cock jumps inside me, and I tighten my lips around him to clean him.
“Suck every drop.”
I pull back, licking his head as my pussy throbs with need. He’s still hard as stee
l, and my thighs clench imagining him inside me.
His arm wraps around my waist and hauls me upright. “It’s your turn to come. Put your hands on that wall.”
I obey him as he positions himself behind me, and then I bend over, following the pressure of his hand. Is he going to fuck me?
Then I feel his dick, still wet with my mouth, touch my pussy. He slides into me without a condom. A stroke of panic hits me, but I moan at the feeling of his bare cock sliding through me. He grabs my waist and thrusts his hips. My arms buckle against the wall as he fucks me hard. Every nerve is sensitive to his touch. I can feel my walls, still raw from the other night, moistening to guide him through. And as fucked-up as it is, I want him to come again. I want to feel that warm burst inside my pussy, because there couldn’t be anything hotter than that.
But his intention is to get me off. He reaches around, his hand massaging my clit in circles as he fucks me, and he anchors hard inside me, then I feel it—like the click of a button—and I scream as my walls clench hard over him, and he pumps in and out.
“Goddamn it, Fawn,” he says in apparent appreciation. “I’m going to have a hard time not blowing my life savings on you.”
He lifts me up and slides out of me while I’m still gasping.
I feel like I’m caught in a whirlwind, still spinning in Silas’s arms. He sinks down into my mattress and I press my face into his chest, breathing in his comforting scent as he holds me.
“Listen—”
“Please don’t leave.”
I’m embarrassed to say it. This guy barely knows me, and he’s made it clear that he’s only here to fuck my brains out. Silas is a distraction, that’s it. He’s not my knight in shining armor. He kills people for a living.
Something stirs in his eyes as he meets my gaze. “I can’t.”
“Come on. It hasn’t even been an hour.”
My mood plummets as he sets me aside and stands up, shrugging his pants back over his waist. He zips himself and ties his belt.
“I just want to talk to someone.”
“You don’t want to talk to me.”
He’s in a hurry to leave, and I can’t figure out why. I stand up from the bed and grab his arm as he tucks in his shirt.
“Why not?”
Heat breaks out over my face as his steady gaze meets mine, and I feel it penetrate me. His arms slide up mine, squeezing slightly.
“You don’t want me in your life, hon.”
I can’t roll my eyes hard enough. Does he really think that’ll work on me? “You can’t be any worse than the guys in this place.”
“You don’t know me,” he shoots back quickly.
I want to know him. He stole my attention the moment he shook my father’s hand. I was so used to people scraping and bowing in front of my father, but Silas did neither.
“I know that you’re not a pushover. That’s how you caught my attention.”
“You sure it was that and not that I was a new guy?”
“Fuck you. I have standards.” Some.
He lets out a throaty laugh and shakes his head.
“No one had the balls to fuck me before you.”
“Don’t get any ideas.”
“You said it was a one-time thing. Now what is this, a two-time thing?”
My skin burns as he slowly lifts his hands and glides his palms over my shoulders. “With your dad out of the picture, I don’t see why I can’t fuck you as often as I want.”
“My dad’s dead, not out of the picture.”
“Sorry,” he says, not looking sorry at all.
It fans the flames of my hatred for whoever the hell killed him. “When I find out who killed him, I’ll tear his balls off with my bare hands.”
Silas makes a face. “I hope I never see that.”
“How the hell did you become a member anyway?”
It’s supposed to be hard. No one just walks into the Black Dragons and gets a membership, just like that.
“It wasn’t my choice, to be honest.” Then he makes a face. “The initiation ceremony was fucking weird.”
“You should see our weddings. Some brides are dragged to the altar.”
“What?”
“The Dragons believe in conquests. You take the woman you want—win her allegiance by making her submit.”
“Now that I can get behind.”
I’ll bet he can.
Then he leans forward and gives me a kiss. His fist rises to my cheek and he brushes my skin with his knuckles in a tender gesture. “You’ll see me again.”
Silas grabs his jacket, looking over his shoulder to give me a wink that sends a shiver of pleasure up my thighs.
SILAS
A hit is a hit.
They all look the same when they’re dead, and I’ve seen hundreds upon hundreds of dead guys. No matter the method, the result is the same. But this one felt different. I let the blood of a man run warm over my hands as I slit his throat. I washed my hands clean so that I could spread them over his daughter’s naked body, and feel her nipples peak between my fingers.
Bar none, it’s one of the most fucked-up things I’ve ever done. Borderline cruel—and I don’t do cruelty. I just couldn’t help myself. I had to have her. You don’t get signals from a girl like that and just ignore her. And then I spent the next couple nights dreaming about her pussy, until I just decided to go to her and take it. What’s stopping me?
You killed her fucking father. She’s going to find out and hate you.
A nagging feeling that took root the moment I saw her in that whorehouse plagues me. I can’t believe this fucking place stuck her there the moment her dad died, as if she wasn’t worth a damn.
I grab the bottom rung of the ladder, the rust peeling off like dark-orange powder as I climb. My boot scrapes the cement as I kick myself off. A bitter chill whips up the higher I climb. My target’s in the next building over, and I’ve studied his habits. He’ll be in the east window at 7:30 p.m. I know nothing about him, other than he’s a contract for the Dragons. It’s quiet on the rooftop. No witnesses. I unpack my equipment and set up the tripod for my rifle, careful not to uncap the mirror. My stomach rests on the cement and I bury the butt of the rifle against my shoulder, taking aim. It’s an easy shot. The room is lit and his head is bent forward, reading something in his lap. Inhale. My chest fills with air and my muscles tense. I try to pretend that I’m there, sitting in that armchair. I breathe with him, follow his head with my arm. He thinks he sees something outside.
I pull the trigger.
Exhale.
His head slams back and the glasses fly off his nose. The man slumps in his armchair as a dark stain coats the back of the chair. Distantly I hear a scream. A girl’s voice.
Not possible.
But I hear it in my head as a child runs into the room, and then I see her again. The girl from our crew when we were kids—the one I found facedown on the beach after watching Achilles—
A cold sweat breaks over my skin and I close the scope, dismantling the sniper rifle as my heart flies like a rabbit fleeing a predator. I don’t get like this after jobs.
It’s this fucking city. I’m reminded every day of the past. The salted air turns my stomach, and every time I think of that round face alive with malice I want to kill someone. The rage burns like an everlasting fire in my stomach, sickening me. He needs to die—the first opportunity I get.
I get back to the syndicate quickly, taking the elevator to my new room. I’m still not used to coming back to the same place, having a room of my own. A room with a kick-ass view of the city. It’s foggy tonight, the mist from the ocean rolling over the distant hills and spilling over the streets. I set my briefcase down and strip off my clothes before I enter the shower. The hot water blasts my shoulders, and tension slowly relieves from the fist-sized knots. It’ll be just a bit longer, and then I’ll be free. Viper, treacherous snake that he is, seems to have kept his word so far. Somehow they haven’t been able to find a suspect fo
r Haines’s murder. But they will. Soon.
And I can’t leave this place, or they’ll kill me anyway.
There’s nothing to do but wait for whatever move Viper is planning, and hope that I can be there when he fucks up. What to do until then?
As soon as my hands roll over my cock, I think of her. Sweet little Fawn. Her perfectly round tits popping out of my mouth, her lips wrapped around my cock, taking me deep. Swallowing every drop of cum and digging her fingers into my ass as if she couldn’t get enough of me.
Within seconds I’m rock hard. I stroke myself, thinking of making another appointment with the mistress to have Fawn to myself again. I want her pussy this time. Fuck, I want her so badly that I can barely think of anything else.
The spray from the hot water shuts off, and I run my hands through my wet hair, squeezing the water down my back. Then I hear it—the sound of fabric rubbing against something.
There’s someone in my fucking suite.
Shit.
My foot touches the cold tiles. The water hits them, making a pat-pat sound that grates against my ears. As I put my other foot down, I hear a slight intake of breath, a high, girlish sound. Two feet from the bathroom door I catch the scent of juniper wafting through the air and a vivid image of Fawn’s tits, arching into my chest as I bury my face into her neck, burns in my head.
I grab the towel from the rack and wrap it around my waist, no longer bothering to be quiet.
A woman’s silhouette lies on my bed. Her head turns, making a curtain of hair fall across her face. I can’t see a thing, so I leave the bathroom door open. The light drifts over her body. She’s wearing the same low-cut red dress, the tear already repaired. She doesn’t make a sound as I approach the bed. Fawn just lies there, the red fabric flowing over her curves. It’s like water—a skin so thin I could probably grab her tits and feel her nipples standing up. She’s got red lips, too, to match the color of her dress. I’m normally not a fan of the whole women in the red dress routine, but I think I’d fuck Fawn if she wore a paper bag with arm and leg holes cut out.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to break into a hitman’s room?”
“I thought I’d return the favor.”
Hitman's Bride (Bad Boy Empire) Page 6