by K. J. Dahlen
“I saved you because it was the right thing to do. I saved you because, even though you’re a ruthless killer who has threatened to kill me on more than one occasion, I have grown to want you. I have grown to feel for you. Now, saving your ass by killing that fucker has put an X on my back too.”
As her words assault me and her eyes hold a fire so deep, I feel like reaching out and touching it to see if it really will burn me, and it hits me. She made the choice, she made the decision. Running wasn’t even a thought to her when she pulled the trigger.
I smile smugly. I may be a ruthless killer who is deadly with his hands, but I am also someone who can bring my piccolo pleasure over and over again. She allows my deadly hands to touch her body. She sees the good in me, even when the bad overpowers it. She accepts me the way I am.
“You saved me even after everything…” I whisper, not really meaning to say it out loud. I know she hears it, though, the minute her eyes darken with lust and she smiles. She is ready for me again, I am sure. This is dangerous—she is dangerous. Even if I don’t want to admit it, she causes my heart to beat harder and faster, and suddenly my thoughts turn to taking her against the wall again.
I keep gazing out the window, pulling back the shades as I wait for Mack to show the fuck up already. He said he would be here soon. Obviously his soon and my soon aren’t the same.
“You never told me about your family. Do you have brothers or sisters?” Bree asks, so I turn around to face her. She has on one of my shirts and a cup of tea in her hands. She let me fuck her two more times before saying she needed to shower. Then I climbed in and took her a third time. She is addicting.
“No siblings who I know of. My father and mother are both dead.” Saying it always makes it seem real again, which hurts far more than the bullet wound in my shoulder. I never talk about my parents to anyone, so I don’t know why I am spilling my guts to her.
“No siblings for me either. My mom got sick not long after I was born.” She sounds defeated as she talks about her mom. I knew when her father came for money what his story was. His wife had died from cancer, so he was alone with a daughter and needed to find a way to make ends meet.
“What type of cancer did she have?” I ask, wanting to take the focus off myself, even if only for a short amount of time. There is a pause as she takes a drink from her cup. Once her lips leave the rim of the coffee cup, she seems to be lost in memories.
“Ovarian cancer.” I know nothing about cancer. It has claimed many people in this world, but I have never taken the time to learn more about any of it. Not that I had ever met anyone with cancer. We didn’t hang around death. We simply killed and went on our way.
“I’m sorry,” I offer sincerely. I am not sure what else to say. What is someone like me, who has more blood on his hands than anyone, to say to a person who has lost a parent to cancer? Even worse, is that I was going to take her father, her last living relative. I know exactly why she gave herself up. I understand.
“Don’t be,” she hiccups. A small tear streams down her cheek. Her doe eyes smile at me as her lips shake. What the fuck? Why the hell did I bring this up?
“I am, though,” I reiterate, moving closer to her. I may be hateful and so very fucked up, but my heart breaks for Bree. It breaks because I know what it is like to be alone in a world full of people. I know how quiet it is even in a crowded room.
My hands wrap around her, wanting nothing more than to shield her from the pain. How can that even be possible when I am the only person in the room who can bring her pain?
“What about your parents?” she asks, smiling. My arms drop from her sides instantly. Can I talk about this with her? Can I tell her how my mother had been killed by the very people who were trained to protect this country?
I feel the coldness seeping into my bones, the walls coming back up. Can I do this to her? Can I make her tell me her secrets without telling her my own?
“I….” I am stuttering over my words. I am actually, for the first time in my fucking life, left speechless.
“My mom was killed,” I state in such an obvious manner. I know she knows that much, but she doesn’t know how it happened.
“I know,” she says calmly as if waiting for me to finish my sentence.
I sigh, taking a step back to sit on the oversized chair. I am actually going to tell her the story. Memories assault me—the crying, the screams of my mom, the fear I felt in her words.
“She was killed when I was eight by the FBI, or at least that’s what’s being said now... I don’t know why, and I don’t know who did it. She was a good woman and was never involved with anything that my father had dealt with.”
I watch Bree approach the side of the couch slowly before deciding it is safe enough to take a seat next to me.
“I swore from that moment on that I would do whatever I could to find her killers, I would hunt them down and destroy them. Every member of their family would suffer for her loss. They owed me their lives, and I promised to collect.”
My eyes stay trained on the floor. I can’t look at her.
“So you planned on avenging your mother’s death?” she asks, her voice so soft.
“I didn’t just plan on avenging her death. I planned on ripping those people from their loved ones as they took my mother from me. She was the last thing I had when it came to a family. I was left with no one when she died. I am the heir to the king of money and mafia crown.”
A moment of silence passes, and I look up to see if she is still with me.
“Killing people never brought her back, though, and it just ate at you, at your insides. I know it did because looking at who you are now and the person you were when I first met you, seems as if I have met two different people.”
I close my eyes. This is the problem. I exhale a deep breath.
“People get used to this side of me without knowing that I can change in a moment’s time. I protect myself, and that’s it. Until—you. I was so keen on getting my revenge through my family’s mafia that it never occurred to me what I was doing. I have killed hundreds of people, Bree. There is so much blood on my hands, sometimes it takes me to the darkest places in my mind if I think about it too long.”
Setting her glass down on the table, she moves closer to me. Her hands find mine. “Killing people won’t bring her back. Doing what you do won’t bring her back. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”
My eyes pop open as I stare at her face. She feels sorry for me. She sees me as that young boy who lost his mom, who lost everything, and that’s not what I want. I don’t want pity for what I have done or gone through.
“I don’t want your pity, Bree. I don’t want you to tell me what I can and can’t do, what will work and won’t work. We all have our own ways of working through things, and I get by just fine with what I do…” My voice is so full of anger that I have to clench my hands from lashing out at her.
Why does what she says bother me so fucking much? Because she’s right, my mind whispers to me, which just makes me angrier, of course.
Her mouth parts, and it looks as if she is going to say something. Then she closes it, only to open it again. “I don’t feel sorry for you. That’s the last fucking thing I feel for you. The blood on your hands is because of you, and there isn’t any type of pity or saying sorry that can make that shit go away. I just know what it’s like to lose a fucking parent so I feel your pain.”
Her words just make me angrier. She knows what pain feels like. Yes, she lost a parent, but she still has one, or at least something similar to one. I have nothing. I have me, myself and I. Relying on anyone else would just lead to death.
“Pain. You have no fucking clue what pain is…” I sneer. My muscles are clenching with the need to pound on something, and I know the moment Bree notices. She takes a step back, she is smart, too. I am a ticking time bomb…and she is right in the way of getting hit.
“I do!” she shoots back. She may have backed up away from me, but her face says
she could give a fuck about how angry I am. Either way, I have had enough of her defiance.
Standing, I corner her. She thinks I am evil and dark, she thinks I won’t hurt her. She thinks wrong.
“Don’t touch me. I don’t know you when you’re like this….” Her cry is the one thing that causes me to gentle my touch as I grip her by the throat. My nose skims over her skin, settling just over her heart beat. It’s fluttering so fast I am afraid it will burst from her neck.
“You know me, as does your body,” I whisper, placing a soft kiss against her throat.
“My body wants you, but that’s it,” she lies. I can tell, I know, she wants me. She wants me for me. The killer in me wants her dead, but the lover in me wants to fuck her senseless. I don’t know which one will win.
“You lie…” I growl, nipping at her skin with my teeth. A deep moan escapes her lips. She is the worst fucking liar on the face of the earth.
“I didn’t,” she says with anger in her eyes that cause my dick to rise. Using my other hand, I slip in between her legs. Evidence of her arousal and need for me is dripping from her leg. She is wet for me.
“The proof is in the pudding, baby...” I growl, slipping a finger inside her. My other hand is still wrapped around her throat. I am in control, and I want her to know that. We have shared something that I haven’t with anyone else, but I don’t want her to think she can pull the wool over my eyes. It will always be me who owns her. I, who loves her…
Love? My attack stops as I pull away from her. My hands leave her, and I can tell it upsets her, but I don’t care. Did I love her? Love. Why would my mind even think that?
“I thought the proof is in the pudding?” She says slyly, trying to bait me. I lift my face to her, a sinister smile showing. I don’t know if I love her, but if my mind tells me I do, then I must. My feelings for her are deep. Love is very possible even if I don’t want to admit it out loud.
Dropping my jeans to the ground, I sit back on the couch.
“Ride me,” I growl. Her sweet face turns dark as she bites her bottom lip. God, I want to take that fucking lip into my mouth and bite it until I taste blood.
She walks over to me slowly, her hips swaying back and forth. The body of a goddess stands before me.
“Strip… Now…” I say louder than necessary. However, all she does is continue to sway her hips in front of me. My cock is growing harder and harder with every glimpse of her pussy from under my shirt. She wants to kill me. I always thought I would die from a wound, but I am certain it will be at the hands of this woman.
She giggles as she pulls at the hem of the shirt until it is all the way off. She stands before me in all her glory. She doesn’t shy away as I stare at her body. She has seen things most will never understand.
“Fuck me…” I say under my breath as I imagine palming her breast. Her tits are perky, and her nipples are pink.
“At your command, King,” she says softly stepping forward. My hands instinctively reach out and grip her hips hard. There will be bruises tomorrow, but I don’t care. That is just a sign of how intense our love is. Fuck, there is that word again—Love.
“I think I love you…” I whisper against her chest as she sits on my lap, my cock slipping in between us.
“What?” she questions just above a whisper. Her voice is filled with surprise.
“Ride me,” I demand instead of repeating what I had just said.
“Wait… Did you say you love me?” she asks. Her eyes are eager to meet mine, and I know she will know I am telling her the truth when I look her in the eyes. So I do just that—I look her straight in the eyes.
12
Bree
Did he just say he loves me? Did Alzerro the king actually tell me that he loves me? Is he even capable of love?
“Didn’t you just accuse me of lying to you?” I ask. His eyes hold all the answers I will ever need. However, he isn’t giving any away. All I can tell is that he meant what he said. He loves me.
“Shut that sassy ass mouth, Bree. Fuck me. Of course, I fucking love you. How can I not? You’re beautiful. You killed someone for me, and you’re still dealing with my ass after all this… So now will you please, pretty fucking please, ride my cock until I’m swelling and my seed leaks out into you?”
Though it isn’t the sweetest way to confess your love for someone, it is perfect for Zerro.
“Fuck, yes, I will,” I say, kissing him fiercely.
“That a girl…” he somehow mumbles while my lips are on his. My hands go into his hair, gripping at the softness of it. He is beautiful, even if he is lost and broken on the inside. I know if I could do anything, it would be to save him from himself.
One of his hands finds its way onto my hip while the other slides in-between my legs, honing in on my clit.
He flicks at it softly, causing a swarm of butterflies to escape from my belly.
“Ahhh…”
“You feel that baby? Do you fucking feel that? It’s like your soul is soaring while your body takes flight. Your chest fills with air while your mind is going a million miles an hour, but all you can focus on is the one thing that completes you —that’s what being with you is like.”
Though he’s talking, the only thing I can focus on is him and the way his finger flicks back and forth, the way his hot breath feels against my skin, and the way his hand bites into my flesh, so painfully that I know he’s resisting the urge to slam into me.
“Come for me, baby. Come so hard on my hand, harder than you ever have in your life.” At his command, I feel my walls clenching. The delicious sensation of flying zings through me and I feel as if I’m on the verge of something different—something unseen, something never felt before.
I collapse onto his chest, and just when I think it’s over, he slides into me. He places both hands on my hips, holding me in place, waiting for me to come back down from my high.
“You clench me so fucking tightly, baby,” he whispers in my ear, his teeth grazing my skin.
I sit up to look down at him. His eyes are a dark chocolate brown with flecks of gold I hadn’t noticed before.
“I’m hungry for you… Starving…” he murmurs, kneading my breasts in a way that has me moving against him.
“I love you,” I blurt out, slamming down on him. I’m working him in and out of me, focusing on my pace when I think I faintly hear him say, “I know.”
I watch as his head tilts back with his mouth open. His eyes are closed, and he looks to be in heaven.
“Fuck yes…” he hisses as I continue to slam down on him. My hips pivot with every movement, and I feel his tip rubbing against my back wall.
“Oh yeah, baby… Ride that cock… Show me who owns you…” His dirty words and seductive voice push me harder.
I stop bouncing and just swivel my hips back and forth. I push down on him hard and am met with a delicious reward. His hands grip my hips harder and harder as he urges me to go harder, my clit rubbing against his cock. Fuck yes. Fuck yes. Fuck yes.
“I… Can’t…” I barely get out in between breaths. My chest is constricting, and my body is reeling with pleasurable sparks. His hands slip from my hips and behind his head as I open my eyes and peer down at him. He’s watching me ride him with eyes that are glazed over and a soft smile on his lips.
“You can, and you will come, again and again until I tell you that you can’t anymore.”
“Ahhh…” Is all I can say as I continue to ride him harder and harder. Every slide in and out pushes me that much closer to my goal—to the finish line.
“Come. Now!” he yells suddenly. My insides clench around him, and my eyes roll into the back of my head. I stop breathing as beautiful, colorful flashes erupt in my head. I can’t stop myself from scratching his chest. My nails dig into his skin so deeply, I worry he might be bleeding.
His hands come back up to my hips where he holds me so he can slam into me over and over again. My legs tremble like jelly, and just when I don’t think
I can take anymore, he’s there pushing me to the edge again.
Zerro’s cum fills me to the brim as he pushes into me over and over until he grows soft. I fall against his bloody chest, surprised that I did that to him. I can’t believe how much I am not myself.
I feel like a bowl full of Jello shivering uncontrollably, so I don’t resist him lifting me. My eyes are still closed and my body on fire when I feel the soft blanket covering my body. Sleep invades my body and mind, and I can focus on nothing but the memory of Zerro and his soft smile. I can save him. I just know I can.
I awake some time later that night, or at least it feels like nighttime. The clock on the nightstand says three a.m., but I’m not really sure. My body feels extremely worked over, and I smile shyly remembering the way he took me before placing me in bed.
I clear the sleep from my eyes when I hear Zerro and another man’s voice. I instantly recognize the voice that sends shivers down my spine. It belongs to a face that I would much rather not see. I know all of this before pulling on a shirt and a pair of sleep pants.
“She wasn’t ever part of the plan, Z…” I hear Mack whisper yell. Neither of them knows I’m awake yet, and it occurs to me that I can just simply eavesdrop right here.
I hear the sigh that Zerro releases. I can almost see his face. I’m sure it’s filled with anger and agony.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s a part of the plan now, and that’s all that matters.” My heart swells with love. At least I know he won’t be killing me or making me leave him.
“It matters, dude…” I can hear the anxiety in Mack’s voice. Something is very, very wrong.
“Why does it matter? She was nothing before this whole incident and will be nothing after everything takes place. She’s clean. I know it.” Zerro sounds confident, and though I know I have done nothing wrong, if Mack convinces him I did do something, I know I am as good as dead.
“It matters because I know she’s not clean. After Jared had called me, I did a little digging on her and found some shit out. I never did trust her, and I figured you should know being you’re the boss.”