by Belle Aurora
My heart jolted. Was I ready for that? I didn’t know.
“Turned myself into the cops.”
“What?” I asked, completely stunned.
He snuffled out a laugh. “I know. Me, working with the authorities. What the fuck, right? Worked with the FBI a while, and if I delivered what I promised, I earned complete immunity and got to come back to you. That was the deal.” He paused. “I didn’t think it’d take as long as it did. I was arrogant, thinking I’d wrap shit up within a year.” He scoffed. “The first year was the hardest. I got nowhere fast. No leads, no resources. The only two people who knew I was alive were the two people who helped me become dead. Slept on the street, stole what I needed, and lived off garbage at one point. Sometimes I’d throw a shit-fit and give up, plan on staying dead. But...” He closed his eyes then peered at me tiredly. “I’m selfish, baby. Needed to be with my son. Needed to come home to you.”
He leaned back on the step, resting on his elbows, looking out into the yard. “No one was taking your crown. Not on my watch. I forged you a throne, angel, and I made it from the bloody, mutilated corpses of every fucker who got in my way, leave you sitting pretty in a pool of blood, wearing a crown of thorns.” He smirked, then his voice filled with reverence. “My queen.”
My stomach clenched. That should not have lit a fire inside me. Jesus Christ, I was a fucking freak.
“No one was getting to you, to my boy. Use my body as a shield. Cut me open. Bleed me dry.” He shook his head slowly. “Not happening.”
I had so many questions. I don’t know why I chose the one I did. “What happened to your tattoo?”
I didn’t need to specify. The iconic 13 I’d come to love no longer graced the apple of his cheek. In its place was a scar. The scar I’d witnessed him receiving at eight years old when we were children, brought together for one short night, destined to meet again as lovers, and although I didn’t know it at the time, I needed him.
He was a fire so hot his flame turned blue. And I wanted to be burned over and over again, smiling through the pain and begging for more.
I was clearly a masochist, but sometimes you needed to bleed to be reminded that you were still alive. And Twitch made me bleed, oozing red warmth until my heart stopped, and every time he killed me, I was revived with a single kiss.
His love was deadly, and I didn’t want the antidote.
Twitch peered at me a long moment. “A little give, a little take. You know how it works, baby. I gave a little, so now it’s your turn. You give me what I want, and I’ll answer your questions.”
Immediately weary, I let out a hushed, “What do you want?”
His voice rough, he named it. “I want you to touch me.”
When I rolled my eyes and moved to stand, his warm hand closed around my wrist, pulling me back down. “Not like that. I mean anywhere. Anywhere you want. Just—” His voice was low, coarse. “—touch me, baby.”
It sounded so innocent, but I knew Twitch, and nothing about him was innocent. To believe he were capable of anything so pure was foolish. But I wanted to touch him.
I inwardly sighed. I loathed that I lived for affection. Something as basic as a simple touch was so important to me. It could convey messages untold, and right now, the need Twitch wore on his fatigued face told me he needed it.
Shuffling over, he waited patiently as I lifted my right hand and brought it to his face, gently cupping his cheek. The moment my fingers came into contact with his warm skin, his eyes closed of their own accord and I watched him take in a deep breath, releasing it slowly, savoring my touch.
The affect I had on him filled me with sudden power, and I reveled in his relaxed state.
Placing my other hand to his neck, I scraped my fingernails over the neatly trimmed scruff, celebrating the way his face wore a look of pure rapture, and spoke quietly, “Tell me.”
He made a sound low in his throat. “It was too obvious a marker. The FBI made me laser it off.” He groaned quietly as my hand slid down to his shoulder, lightly kneading the knot I found, and he spoke through an exhale, “Thought about you every second, every day.”
I wanted to climb into his lap and beg for a single kiss. “Where do we go from here?” Then, even more quietly, “How do we move on?”
His hooded gaze landed on me, and his response was as soft as his whiskey voice would allow. “Very fuckin’ slowly.”
I peered into those soft brown eyes and ran my fingers gently down his jawline. My voice was little over a whisper. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”
His reply was pure Twitch. “Never asked for it, angel.”
Arrogant ass.
Looking down into his face, I watched him as he watched me, and being with him, right here on my back porch, felt so right that I frowned, disappointed in myself.
That was the problem, I guess. When you looked at somebody through rose-colored glasses, all the red flags? They were just... well... flags. Unassuming. Safe.
But I knew better.
Running my hands through his too-long hair, I tightened my grip in it, pulling back, forcing his head up and loving the way his lip curled in discomfort. I brought my face close to his, slowly, meaningfully, and when our lips were only a hair’s breadth away, I spoke quietly. “You need a haircut.”
Releasing him quickly, I stood and moved toward the sliding door, stopping only when he uttered a perplexed sounding, “That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?”
I pursed my lips in thought, tilting my head slightly, and then nodded. “Yep.”
My eyes met his as I locked the door and switched off the kitchen light, leaving him awash in darkness. And to say I was proud of myself was a huge understatement.
Yes.
I was stronger than I gave myself credit.
***
Twitch
A surprised laugh left me as I sat alone on the porch in the dark.
I adjusted myself in my pants and my lip twitched.
She made me crazy. All I wanted to do was hunt her down, bend her over, and drive home, pumping into her sweet pussy until I unloaded inside her.
But I would wait. And that wait would make it all the more sweet.
Chapter Eighteen
Ling
The Cross was having a good night. Music blared as I watched from the closed off balcony, and the second I saw him, my brows lowered.
The fuck was he doing here?
I peered around him, on the lookout. He was alone or, at least, it seemed like he was. Making my way down, I kept my eyes open, anticipating the attack I assumed was coming. But when I saw him sitting alone at the bar, curiosity moved me forward.
My guys were close, watching but keeping their distance, and when one of them stepped forward, I shot him a hard stare. He backed off immediately, and I made my way over, standing behind him, uttering, “What are you doing here, Az?”
He unfolded his long body when he stood. His eyes smiled, and I wanted to gouge them out. “I missed you.”
Fuck him. “You need to leave,” I said firmly. “You’re not welcome here.”
Aslan took a step closer but stilled when I pulled out my gun, aiming it down at his cock. He put his hands up in surrender. “I just came to see how things were going. I know you got a shipment coming. Came to see if you wanted to bury the hatchet. I could help you, Ling.”
He took another step and my stomach ached. He was encroaching, and I didn’t want to hurt him, but I would if I needed to. “Back off, Az.”
“No,” was all he said as he took another small step into me. One more step and we’d be flush against each other.
He was trespassing, violating a code, and my men knew this. I could feel their eyes on me, gauging my next move. Would I allow Aslan Sadik to come into my home and disrespect me in the way he was?
No, I would not.
I couldn’t.
I didn’t want to do what I did, but I would make an example of my beautiful Turk.
Aim
ing to the left, I pulled the trigger, and the shot rang out over the music. Aslan’s entire body jerked and, putting a hand to his side, he let out a shocked laugh. “You shot me.” He lifted his hand to peer down at the red wetness there, and he panted, “You fucking shot me.” His wide eyes met mine, and as they did, his lip twitched. “You crazy bitch.”
Oh, please. It was a flesh wound. If I wanted him dead, he would be, and he knew that.
One of my men came forward, gun aimed at Aslan, and I stepped back, away from a married man I couldn’t have. “Escort Mr. Sadik to his men. If they cause trouble—” I turned and began to walk away. “—paint the town red.”
As I sat alone in the city apartment with my head in my hands, I couldn’t seem to control my rapidly beating heart. I hadn’t cried in years, not since Twitch died, and if I still had the ability to I was sure I would have. But I had long since dried up.
When the front door opened, I sighed in relief. Something told me he would come, and the moment he stepped into view, shaking his head at me, I smiled sadly.
Az moved to put his hands on his hips, but when he touched his wound, he grimaced then glared at me. “I can’t believe you shot me.”
“You asked for it,” I returned because he deserved what he got and was lucky I didn’t aim to kill.
“You crazy bitch,” he said once more, crossing the room. Before he made it to me, I stood, waiting. The moment he was close enough, he slid his arms around my waist and lowered his face to mine, pressing soft kisses to my lips, and I loved how he made me feel tipsy. His aftershave smelt so good I wanted to lick a line from his neck all the way down to his cock. I put my hands to his chest, liking the way he made me feel so small. He made a sound low in his throat then spoke between kisses. “My crazy bitch.”
I closed my eyes, pressing myself into him. “I didn’t want to.”
“I know,” he said. “I could see you didn’t. I’m sorry for pushing. I just,” he sighed, “really fucking missed you, baby.” His eyes bore into me. “Tell me you love me.”
No.
I shook my head, my eyes sad. He couldn’t ask that of me. I couldn’t give him that. He wasn’t mine. He never would be. We were stupid for attempting something that could never be, but I had never wanted anyone the way I wanted this man. I loved him more than was wise.
So I pushed. Running my nails down his chest, I looked up into his eyes, and muttered, “Come to bed with me.”
I wasn’t expecting the response I got.
“Okay,” he replied, and when he smiled that billion-dollar smile, I couldn’t help but return it. God, he was everything. He couldn’t separate himself from me long enough to walk the short distance, and I laughed as we stumbled into the bedroom, smiling into this beautiful man’s kisses. Deft fingers unzipped my dress, and when it slid to the ground, I stepped out of it, making the brief walk over to the bed and climbing onto it with a grin. Once I assumed the position—on all fours with my ass in the air, head down into the covers, and my hands behind my back submissively—I breathed out, “Fuck me, baby.”
A long while passed, and when I realized he hadn’t moved, I sat up, looking back at him over my shoulder. I saw him gazing up at the ceiling, wearing an expression of pure frustration.
My heart sank. “What’s wrong?”
He averted his gaze. “This wasn’t what I had in mind.” His lips thinned. “I don’t want this.”
Pride had me grating on the inside. “You don’t want me?”
“I do,” he assured me. “More than anything. But not like this, Ling.” His eyes showed his unhappiness. “Not like this.”
What? How were we meant to fuck then?
I sat on the edge of the bed in my underwear and looked at him, puzzled. “We can do it however you want, Az. How do you want me? Handcuffed? Tied up? Blindfolded? I got a school uniform somewhere around here. I can call you Daddy. What’s your pleasure?” When he closed his eyes tightly and let out a curse, I started to get pissed. “I need you to talk to me, baby. What’s happening here? Because I’m pretty fucking confused.” My brows knitted. “I thought you wanted this.”
“Come here,” was all he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, and when I approached carefully, he looked down at me, and uttered, “Do you have any idea of how much I want you?” I looked down at his straining jeans, but he laughed softly. “No. Not like that.” He put my hand to his chest, just over his heart. “Here. This is where I want you.” He moved my fingers to his lips. “I need you here too.” When he tugged my hand to his temple, he looked me deep in the eye, and explained, “I want to share everything with you. My body, my heart, my mind, I want to give it all to you. Just you. But—” His brows lowered as a thought hit him. “—I don’t think you know how to share that way, do you, baby?”
What he was asking of me, I couldn’t give. Not because I didn’t want to. Because I never had it in the first place. I was desensitized. My feelings were numb. They had been fucked out of me at a very young age. But if I had those things, if I could give those things to anyone, I would give them to Aslan Sadik.
“I can’t,” I told him miserably, wanting so badly to be what he needed.
And for the first time in my adult life, I felt horribly inadequate and completely flawed.
What a strange, depressing feeling.
He took my hand and pressed his lips to my knuckles, watching me from lowered lids. When he spoke, he did it softly. “Do you trust me enough to try?”
Did I?
It was hard to speak. Aslan made me want things I had never wanted before. What a frightening thought. “Of course.” But I threw him a hard glare. “But if I don’t come, I’m going to be pissed.”
His soft laughter against my knuckles was soft, and sweet, and beautiful in a way I didn’t know existed. “I promise I’ll leave you completely satisfied.”
A sudden pang tore at my chest because he would leave me to go home to his wife. The same wife who adored him.
Aslan made me feel human in a world that told me I was a monster. Part of me loved him for that. The other part loathed him for showing me what that was like, when I could have been happily naïve for the rest of my days.
Now I knew better. I knew what I had been missing, and it was impossible not to grieve the years I’d lost to my circumstances.
When Az descended, his full lips touched my cheek. “Put your arms around me. Hold me, Ling. Like you don’t ever want to let me go.”
I didn’t. So, I did as he asked and snaked my arms around him, careful of his wound. It was funny really; a month ago, the idea of injuring men made me hot. But when it came to this man, the idea of hurting him made my stomach turn.
What was happening to me?
My heartbeat slowed as I looked into his midnight eyes. He looked like an angel in the moonlight, and when he kissed me, I saw stars. He made love to my mouth softly before his tongue met mine, caressing it with his, and he tasted delicious, like bourbon and mint. We stood there for what seemed like hours, and for the first time in my life, my swollen lips had nothing to do with being hit, or bitten, or slapped.
His gentle kisses combined with his light touches had me reeling with anticipation. Again, not something I was used to. My kind of sex was the rough, clothes tearing kind, and Az had yet to touch me anywhere I needed to be touched. My nipples strained against my lace bra, almost as if they were reaching for his touch. My pussy ached in way I’d never experienced. My eagerness alone had my sensitive clit craving just a brush of his fingertips.
All from being kissed.
Az walked me backwards with his arms still around me until the backs of my legs hit the foot of the bed, and I assumed this was it. This was where he’d turn me, bend me over, and fuck me hard. But that didn’t happen. No. Instead, he lightly slapped my ass. “Get on the bed, baby.”
What, just as I was? No cock sucking? No removing my clothes? No removing his clothes? No demands? What the fuck?
I climbed into the center of
the bed and watched in fascination as he slid onto the covers next to me, pulling me into his body. When I felt his hardness at my hip, I reached down to rub it, but Aslan’s hand intercepted mine. “Let me make you feel good. Then you can touch me.”
When his lips touched mine, I sighed into his mouth. Nothing ever felt as good as this man’s lips. He ran a hand down my side, his thumb lightly caressing the skin above my panty line, and then his lips trailed firm, open-mouthed kisses from my jaw, to my neck, lower still. Az lightly pushed me onto my back, and when his mouth left a line of kisses down the center of my body into the valley of my breasts, I arched my back, wanting more than he was giving. And from the way he chuckled, he knew it too.
Az pressed his lips to the area just below my belly button, and my stomach clenched knowing what was coming. He spread my legs and kissed me over my panties. And my pussy flooded.
Holy shit. What a turn on. A man who takes his time. Who knew?
It was unreal, the sensation. It was almost too much but also not enough. I lifted my hips to his mouth, reaching for more, and was rewarded when he pressed harder into my panty-covered core, gently nibbling and licking me through the thin material. A low moan escaped me. I felt high on what he was doing to me, and when he removed his mouth from where I needed it, I lifted my head to look at him, thoroughly disappointed.
Az smiled at me, standing before undressing slowly. When he left his boxer briefs on, I almost pouted. I wanted that cock.
He climbed on top, towering over me until his position was right, and when he lowered himself, leaning the majority of his weight on his arms, and the solid outline of his cock came to rest on my already soaked panties, I sighed, throwing my head back into the covers. As he started to move, grinding against me, I began to pant lightly.
It felt amazing and we weren’t even skin-to-skin. I was absolutely dumbfounded.
Reaching up to my tits, he yanked one cup down, revealing a taut, needy nipple. He glanced at me a moment before lowering his head and capturing that hard peak between his lips, suckling gently, and I almost came off the bed. I felt every pull of his mouth as if he were sucking my clit. His hand moved from my hip, sliding down to gently rub me over my panties and, my brows bunching, I let out a low groan.