“Sure. I can do that,” Aaron says, breezing past me and up the stairs.
I follow, and on the top landing Aaron points to a door and leans against the wall outside. The bathroom is tiled in pink and purple and there’s a huge claw foot tub that makes me want a bath instead of a shower. But I remind myself Aaron’s waiting and turn on the water, running it scalding hot. I drop the soaked trench coat to the floor and step into the tub. The metal hasn’t warmed yet and chills the soles of my feet, and at first the water is tepid.
Old water heater, I think, bracing for a cold blast. But soon the water heats up and I’m lifting my eyes into the hot stream, letting my tears mix with the water, feeling it run down my body in soothing, cleansing rivulets. The water in the bottom of the tub is tinged with red from the cut on the back of my head where the fuckers beat me down in my own home.
I scrub at the tender skin where the plastic zap-straps chafed me, then touch the bruise where the bastards kicked me in the ribs, and then I’m hit by a flash of blinding, blood-red rage that sends my heart racing. Those motherfuckers. Came into my home and snuck up behind me and smashed me down. Chickenshit motherfuckers. Didn’t even have the balls to face me straight on. I’m even inexplicably angry at Aaron, for killing them all and robbing me of vengeance.
He should have left one alive. For me to—
I stop myself. For me to what?
But I know.
I know what I would’ve done if I had the chance. I would have murdered those motherfuckers in any way I could. And the slower and bloodier and more brutal, the better. Are there more out there? More men associated with that boat the Guardian? Because if there are I want my shot at vengeance. I want my chance to bloody my hands with one of the assholes who stuffed me in a body bag and cuffed me to a metal pole.
We’re taught not to think this way. Taught we’re supposed to let go. Let the cops and courts handle it. But that’s bullshit. I know how the cops and courts work. Whose interests they serve. And right then I decide not to call it in. Not until I’m there to get inside the boat and see what I can find for myself.
I’m so involved in thinking about my abductors that I don’t notice the shadowy shape of a man standing on the other side of the shower curtain, watching me. I shriek and toss the curtain back, startling Aaron and making stagger into the far wall, his hands raised in that universal I-mean-no-harm gesture.
“Shitballs!” I scream, nearly out of my mind. “What the fuck, Aaron? I said wait outside, not creep in like a fucking psycho—”
“I know I’m sorry I know,” he says, clearly feeling lousy. Then his eyes trace down, and I realize he looking at my naked body. This gorgeous man is looking at me in a hungry, desire-filled way that makes me shiver with need, and there’s this vast dark space inside of me, empty, lonely, frightened, needing to be filled, and suddenly I want to be held, want a man close to me, want this man, and so I turn to him so he can see my tits, the water streaming hot over them, and the soft nest of hair on my pubic mound, and the entire shape of me, and I study him to gauge his reaction.
There’s a long moment when Aaron says nothing, only looks at me in a way I’ve never been looked at before, admiring, appreciating, as if there’s nothing on earth this man would rather do than look at me. A hungry gleam in his eyes makes my cunt swell and warm.
Then he looks me in the eye, moves close, lifts his hand up until his fingers are in the running water, and says, “Damn, Sparkles. That’s one hell of a hot shower.”
“I like it hot.”
“Me too. Me too.”
I lick my lips and Aaron leans his head to me and our lips meet at the edge of the cascading water. His lips are warm and sweet and our kiss begins tender, seeking each other out, but then he wraps an arm around my naked waist and pulls me tight to the edge of the tub, my feet sliding along the slick metal, and now his lips are pressing hard to mine in a way that’s nearly painful, and I shudder at how he kisses me, my cunt a white-hot bud of need, and I wrap my arms over his shoulders and open my mouth and let his tongue inside, he’s gentle and powerful all at once, and I feel a deep, barely contained desire in him, something wild begging to be free, and so I break from his kiss and say, “Take off your clothes.”
Aaron steps back, pulls his filthy, torn and bloodstained shirt over his head. He’s wearing only black denim button-fly jeans and a thin but sharp-looking metal chain around his neck. I drink in the sight of him: his powerful, stern jaw, his sculpted cheekbones and arctic-ice blue eyes, then down to his broad, heavily-muscled shoulders and over the stark outline of his solid pec muscles and tight nipples, then down still further to his chiseled abs and the line of hair leading down beneath his belt, and a wave of desire slams into me as I think about following that line down with my tongue, kissing and tasting—
He’s covered in elaborate ink. There’s an image of a moonlit forest on his left pec and a winged angelic creature on his right. There are symbols I’ve never seen before and a picture of the sun bursting from behind a snow-capped mountain and several more strange hybrid creatures, most with skull faces and wings and snarling jaws, some breathing flames and lightning. The only thing I recognize are the numbers one-eight-seven tattooed over his heart. The police scanner code for homicide.
“Tell me about them,” I say, pointing to the tattoos, curious but also wanting a little longer just to look at him.
“Some other time.”
I give him a ridiculous pouty face that I don’t think has a chance in hell of working, but he laughs and gives me a whatever shrug and says, “They’re mythical creatures. Ancient Greek. Some Egyptian. Others from the south: Aztec and Mayan and Incan. A few from the great animist traditions of Africa.”
“Is that an angel?” I ask, pointing to the one on his right pec.
“No. It’s a thunder spirit. I don’t believe in angels and demons. I don’t believe in hell, and I sure as fuck don’t believe in heaven.”
“What do you believe in?” I say, barely loud enough to be heard over the rushing water.
“Life.”
“Life?”
“Life. What we have here and now. In this moment. A life lived elemental, fast and full-on. I believe in death, too. As a part of life. Everything else is just…words. Noise. Distraction. Takes us away from our true selves.”
He’s nearly painted in blood: dried black in some places and still seeping red from a set of four painful-looking gashes on his chest. There are several puckered and white scars that look like bullet wounds and other long, ripping scars tracing across his chest, arms, abdomen.
“You’ve used your nine lives,” I say, hearing awe and fear in my voice.
“I’ve used way more than that,” he answers. “And besides, I’m not a cat.”
He reaches down, pops open his button fly and tears off his jeans.
I’m not a dainty spring flower. I’ve enjoyed a hefty cock or two.
But this man? He’s got a cock that could win trophies.
I clasp my hand over my mouth and loose a quick breath, then feel my nipples harden and my face blush bright red. Aaron’s slightly stiff. His cock hangs, long and lovely, above the perfect bulge of his balls. His thighs are muscled lean. I realize I’m staring like a school-girl…and that he’s waiting for an invitation.
I raise my arms and say, “Bring that here, Mr. Outlaw. Right this second.”
Aaron hops into the shower and we’re in each other’s arms, kissing hard, turning through the hot shower spray. My hands fall to the tight crescent of his ass, then my right slips around front to grip his heavy cock at the base. I can’t fit my fingers around him, and the thought of having such a large cock thrust into my swollen, wet cunt makes me quiver. He’s hard now, throbbing, and I run my hand slowly along his length, feeling a thick vein, then cup the tip of him in my palm and gently rub my hand in a slow circular motion.
Aaron growls deep in his chest as he kisses and nibbles at my ear, then down my neck, then he reaches up and cu
ps my breast in his hand and brings my nipple to his mouth, raking his teeth across it gently. I stand on tip-toes to bring my breast closer for him while he wraps his other hand around my ass and pulls me tight. I continue stroking his gorgeous cock while I run my fingernails across his chest, careful to avoid the painful-looking scratch marks.
I’m jerking him off as best I can with one hand, and Aaron throws his head back and looses a deep, growling moan that is so sexy it makes me drop to my knees. The scalding shower water cascades around us, runs down his perfect cock and onto my face, and I use just my fingernails to hold him as I slowly put the tip of his cock in my mouth. He’s smooth and hard and perfectly shaped, and I feel the blood pounding through his cock. I push myself onto him, deeper, deeper, until I feel him hit the back of my throat, then I reach up and wrap both hands around his shaft and begin working slowly forward and back. He braces himself against the wall and arcs his hips forward, his knees bucking every time the head of his cock slams into my throat. He’s moaning now, that sexy, guttural growl I’m beginning to love so much, and I pull my mouth from him and he looks down and says, “I can’t fuck you. I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t fuck you.”
“Oh, you’re gunna fuck me,” I say, digging my fingernails into his cock. “I didn’t ride bitch an hour through the pouring rain wearing only a trench coat, then get on my knees to not get fucked by this great cock.”
But Aaron shakes his head and pulls slightly away.
“I can’t Lily,” he says, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. “You don’t understand. I just can’t.”
Which, all right, is not very sexy, and makes me think I shouldn’t have put his cock in my mouth before asking, “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“No,” he says, looking genuinely shocked. “It’s not that…it’s just…it’s dangerous. I can get a little out of control, y’know…when I’m really turned on.”
“Are you really turned on?”
He nods real fast, making me break into a wicked grin. I lift his cock up, kiss down the underside of it, bite and kiss and suck his balls gently, kiss back up his cock, then look him straight in the eye again. “Why don’t you show me?” I say. “Why don’t you show me what it’s like when you’re not in control.”
There’s a gleam in his eye, a bright, cold, wild gleam that makes me think I’ve made a big mistake, and for an instant it’s almost as if his incisor’s lengthen, sort of like a vampire’s but more like…a wild animal’s. A wolf’s. A powerful mix of desire and anticipation and even fear races through me as Aaron says, “You sure?”
“I’m su—”
But before I can even finish he’s lifting me, his hands under my arms. I’ve never seen a man move so fast, and for an instant I’m in the air in front of him; he’s fucking holding me suspended in the air like I weigh nothing, and then he places me on the tub and kisses me long and hard, biting my lips with an exquisite stinging pain and then he turns me so I’m facing the shower and lifts my left leg so it’s resting up on the sill of the tub.
Hot water showers against my back, runs down my spine and ass and right down my cunt, which is swollen and aching and driving me fucking insane, and I feel Aaron’s hard, throbbing cock press against my ass and for a moment I’m terrified he’s going to take me there, in the tight whorl of my asshole. I try and pull away from him but he grips me by the elbows and brings my arms back, rubbing his hot cock along my cunt, parting my soft, wet folds, and I hear him moaning and growling and I scream at him to fuck me, fuck me, and he laughs, a sharp, almost crazy-sounding laughter that makes me grin and push against him, and now I’m fucking begging, pleading, saying please fuck me please fuck me—
Aaron pulls his hips back. The tip of his cock edges inside me, stretching my cunt wide and oh god that’s only the tip of him what was I thinking I can’t take him all…and then he thrusts into me, long and slow and deep, his cock drilling down, further than I knew was possible, and my breath bursts from my lungs and I’m moaning and pressing my face into the cool tile and trying to keep it together, trying to take this gorgeous man’s cock.
He rakes across my g-spot and I let loose a shrill cry and still he thrusts into me, where the fuck does he end, and then I feel a sharp pain on my shoulder and at that exact moment he slams the rest of his cock deep inside.
He’s fucking biting me, I think, and the realization is so hot it makes me moan and push hard into him because I want all of him, every last bit, and his teeth pierce my skin and the pain on my lower neck mingles with the pain in my cunt and then I feel his balls smack tight against me. He holds me motionless with his cock buried inside and if it wasn’t for him holding me up I’d be on the ground, because my legs are rubbery and weak and I’m biting my lower lip just to keep from shrieking.
Then he draws out, slowly at first, and I’m thinking no please stay please because he’s not even fully out and I miss him already. Then he starts fucking me for real. He begins slow, measured, and with every thrust he brushes my g-spot and bottoms out against my womb and I feel the wave of my first come building from somewhere belly-deep and the pleasure is so intense it makes me wriggle my hips back into him and he laughs and smacks my ass, only once but hard enough to send a bolt of stinging pain that seems to center in my cunt, and now he’s fucking me hard, slamming into me and my first come crashes down and I hear myself shrieking please please please over and over and his hand smacks my ass again, the sound echoing in the steam-filled bathroom and I feel like I’m going to burst wide open because god help me his cock is swelling even more, stiffening more, and I tell him I want his come, I tell him to fill me up with his hot come, that I want to feel his big balls empty inside me, that I…and then my breath is gone and I’m moaning again, pleading, pushed completely out of my mind by how he’s fucking me and the feel of his great cock buried balls-deep in my tender cunt.
I feel his thrusts grow more urgent, more powerful, and each one is nearly lifting me up off the tub and then he looses a long, wracking wail that crescendoes into a howl and wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing my windpipe so hard I can’t draw a breath, and there’s an explosion of beautiful blue-white light in my eyes and then oh god his balls contract and his cock spasms and then the first load of hot come laces from this gorgeous man and deep into me, and Aaron squeezes my throat still harder and the blue lights deepen to purple and finally to black, and I picture the tip of his cock spilling hot, milky-sweet seed, filling me, and a second come smashes into me with the force of a hurricane hitting a tropical shore, a wrecking, howling force and his fingernails dig into the soft skin around my neck, then a final shudder and the black coalesces behind my eyes and I’m slipping away, conscious only of the feeling of my lover’s hot come burning inside me—
My foot slips off the edge of the tub and suddenly we’re both tumbling head-over-heals out of the shower.
Fuck!
Aaron’s hand loosens from my throat and I draw a deep gasp of air as we topple in a soaked and spent heap on the bathroom floor, gasping and laughing, rolling into one another and holding tight, the steam above our heads swirling like girls. My cunt is throbbing and sore but for the love of all fuck somehow still needy for him. My shoulder stings from where he bit me and my neck probably has a set of scratch marks two inches long.
I blink through the dancing spots in my vision, then reach down, grab his still-hard cock in one hand and cup his balls in the other. I lean down and put him in my mouth and suck gently, tasting the sweetness of my cunt on him and wanting to taste his come. A warm drop of come leaks into my mouth and I kiss and lick at him, drawing still more.
Aaron moans and shifts away slightly, as if his skin’s too sensitive to be touched, and then I prop up on one elbow, look him in the eyes and say, “Well. That was all right.”
Aaron grins, brushes the hair from my eyes and says, “Yeah. That was okay.”
Then he laughs, and is there anything sexier than a long, booming laugh coming from the lips of
a hardened outlaw, and suddenly I’m happy like I haven’t been in a long while and I’m laughing too, feeling free and…safe. Somehow I’m safer in this outlaw man’s arms than I’ve ever been trying to fight and scrape my way ahead in a game that’s stacked against me, a game where the bastards of the world invent the rules and change them as they see fit.
Well, fuck them, I think, pressing my face into Aaron’s ripped chest.
Fuck them all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
RODAS
“I NEARLY HAD him converted, Carlos. He would’ve joined us! Then your army dickheads swarmed in and fucked everything up. As per usual.”
A woman’s voice. Aggressive and deadly.
A blade falling in the night.
I remember that voice—
“How do you know this tattooed pendejo is a Risen?”
“Because I fought him. He nearly killed me. No Pureblood has such power now that the First Fallen is reborn.”
“Why didn’t he? Kill you?”
The woman laughs, loud and mocking. “You know zero about recruiting an asset. Because Rodas had other…stronger urges to attend to. The man’s been caged for his entire living memory. He’s never been with—”
“A whore?”
“A whore you swore to marry.”
Now the man laughs. Cold. Humorless. “Thankfully I trusted my better judgment.”
“Fuck you.”
I moan quietly and open my eyes. I’m hanging upside down in the middle of a huge metal building. Four helicopters and an equal number of small airplanes are lined up along one wall, lit by dim yellow lights. I can’t see who’s speaking, but I recognize the woman.
It’s her. Tamara.
The temptress who lured me from devotion. The one who dragged me into defilement.
“What’s our next move, Carlos?” Tamara asks, her boot heels ringing across the polished concrete floor as she approaches me. “There’ll be blowback for the killings at the penthouse.”
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