by K. A Knight
“Good girl,” I praise, and rub her clit in massaging circles until she’s moaning and wild, her breath fogging up the glass so much I can barely see her face, and she can’t see me. We’ll definitely leave a print like she wanted, and the thought only makes me hotter. If it’s possible, my dick goes even harder at the thought of anyone seeing that and knowing she’s mine.
“Sir, harder,” she demands, trying to speed up my relentlessly thrusts.
She’s pulsing around me, her wetness coating her thighs and my balls. She’s close, so close. Leaning down, I bite her shoulder at the same time I flick her clit, and she comes with a scream, her pussy clamping down on me like a vice as her body shakes and shivers from the force.
She pants, slumping against the glass as I fight through her tightness, fucking her through it. We aren’t done yet, not even close. I’m so greedy, I want all her orgasms, want to see her lax from pleasure until she can barely move, and then I’ll drag her to my room and fuck her again.
“Sir,” she whispers raggedly, pushing back again like she can’t help herself as I pull my finger away from her clit.
“Good little girl, taking my cock so well,” I praise, kissing along the teeth imprints on her shoulder, laving it better as her eyes squeeze shut, her lips parting on a moan. “Again, I want to hear you scream at least twice more,” I order.
“If you wish, sir,” she concedes, her voice still breathless, her body jiggling from the force of my thrusts. She arches back and tilts, taking me deeper into her body and making us both grunt in pleasure before she matches my rhythm, recovering quickly from her first orgasm.
Even now, when she’s submissive, she’s in control. She could say stop, she could pull away, move, and it would all be over. She has all the power, I have none, and I was a fool to think so.
This woman owns me mind, body, and soul.
I jackhammer in and out of her, but she gives as good as she gets. Fucking herself on my cock, meeting my thrusts. I’m surprised we haven’t broken the glass yet, but I wouldn’t even care if we did, I couldn’t stop. My balls draw up and I know I’m close, the pleasure too much, racing around my body, dragging me towards my release, even as I fight it, wanting to feel her come around my cock again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I don’t even realise I’m saying it out loud, words pouring from my lips unchecked. “Too fucking tight, too fucking hot, you drive me wild.”
She cries out again, her face slamming into the glass with my wild thrusts. “Sir! Please! I want to feel you fill me, drip down my thighs,” she yells raggedly.
“Dirty fucking brat,” I growl, my teeth clenching and bared as I try and hold off my release, but it’s no good. She purposely tightens around me, massaging my cock, and I jerk, a shout leaving my throat.
“Yes,” she moans, and does it again and again.
I slap my hand across her ass and she cries out, but keeps pushing back, forcing my orgasm from me. It explodes out of me, filling her tight little cunt and dripping down around my dick. She cries out with me, clamping down on me like a vice as she finds her own release.
I slump against her, my cock still inside her body, pressing her closer to the glass as we stand there, my legs weak. I don’t think I could move even if I wanted to. Goddamn it, I only wanted to ask her out and she ended up fucking my brains out.
“Yes,” she whispers, so I lift my head to see her smiling. “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”
Happiness bursts inside me, like a crack through the ice, the sun warming it as my own smile curls my lips. Leaning down, I kiss her softly before pulling away.
“Only if you promise to fuck me like that again after,” she teases, and I groan as I pull out of her.
“Woman, you’re going to kill me,” I rasp as I stumble back, my legs nearly giving in, but I right myself at the last minute and she turns. I scoop her up before she can fall and hold her to my chest, both of us grinning when we see the tits and face imprint we have left on the glass.
“Mission accomplished.” She nods and snuggles closer. “Come on then, sir, I could do with a wash.”
I don’t sleep most of the night, no, like a psychopath, I watch her sleep. She looks so peaceful, so angelic. Her face is lax with sleep, eyes closed, lashes grazing her cheeks, lips parted in a soft snore, and her hair crazy and all over my pillow.
Who knew this was what I needed?
That this woman would come to mean so much to me? I understand everything Max said now, why he was willing to risk it all for his woman. They hit you right between the eyes, they sneak in until you’re so lost in them there is no escape—not that I wish there was. Not right now, with her in my arms, and her hot little body cradled by my own.
Her softness melting my hardness.
Pushing back stray strands of dark hair, I stroke her cheek and she burrows closer, a smile tipping up my lips. Nerves are still racing through me, though, not allowing me to sleep. Where do I take her tomorrow?
I want it to be perfect, like her.
A fresh start, a truce, a new beginning for us.
Grabbing my phone, I text Max. He’ll be able to help, right? Never thought I’d see the day I had to go to that big brute, but he doesn’t seem to have done too bad with his girl.
Spider: Baywatch, you up?
Baywatch: Asshole.
Spider: I’ll take that as a yes.
Baywatch: I’m on a hit, what do you want? I ain’t helping you hide any bodies again, you tried to bury me with the last one, you fucking bastard.
Spider: That was one time. No, I need advice on women.
I wait patiently for a moment, until my phone lights up again. Looking down at Nadia, I make sure I’m not waking her, but she’s sleeping hard.
Baywatch: Holy fucking shit, this is amazing, wait, I’m going to send a screenshot to Scarlett.
I frown down at my phone when another text comes through.
Baywatch: I’m presuming this is about Nadia? I’m obligated to say that if you hurt her, I will kill you.
Spider: I would like to see you try.
I barely contain my snort when another message comes through.
Baywatch: Okay, Scarlett will. Now, what kind of advice? Must be serious if you’re reaching out to me, this has to sting.
He has no fucking idea, but we all do what we have to for the people we care about.
Spider: I asked her out on a date tomorrow, our first, I don’t know where to take her. I want it to be perfect.
Baywatch: Huh, I didn’t know you had feelings. Gotta admit I always thought you were some creepy robot. So date...any ideas?
Spider: No, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking you, motherfucker.
Baywatch: Keep your panties on, Jesus, okay. Well, what does she like?
I bite my lip, racking my brain. She likes drinking...dancing...fucking. Shit, what else?
Baywatch: I take the silence as you’re at a loss, some genius you are. A date doesn’t have to be to the perfect place, you know? Just something to show you care, that you know her, that you see the real her. It’s about spending time together, you can have more fun at a supermarket than a posh restaurant if you want to, it’s all about intention.
Intention, that makes sense. Although she would like going to a posh restaurant, I think she would enjoy something less strict, where she could have fun...that’s it. Fun, wild, she loves the thrill.
Spider: I have an idea, thanks.
Baywatch: Good, got to go, I need to kill this stupid fuck now that he’s finished with his prostitute.
Spider: Do you kiss your girl with that mouth?
Baywatch: You tell the girls we had this chat and I will cut off your dick and give it to Nadia to use as a dildo.
Laughing, I put the phone on the side table and curl back up with her, pulling her closer. She makes this adorable little sound and presses her face to my chest. I’m surprised the pounding of my heart doesn’t wake her up.
I feel so weak in this moment, so totall
y vulnerable, all because of this tiny woman.
It’s addictive and scary, and if my enemies knew I had a weakness...
I shake my head and close my eyes, trying to force some sleep, but nightmares of her being used against me haunt my dreams until I give up and slip from the bed and head to the gym.
I need to be able to protect her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nadia
Flipping over in the bed, I shiver from the cold, my eyes cracking open and searching around blindly for Keanu, but he isn’t here. Sitting up, keeping the sheet to my chest, I scan the rest of the dark bedroom, but still don’t see him. Sighing, I slip from the bed and put on his shirt from the night before, buttoning it up as I pad on bare feet across the cold wood floor to the door. I crack it open and look across the hall to his office, but he isn’t in there. He’s started to leave the door open now, which makes me smile. Creeping out into the hall, I tiptoe to the stairs and kitchen, where is he?
I can hear a lose thump, so I follow it down the floating stairs and down the hallway until I reach the garage door. Of course. Pushing it open, I find him beating the shit out of the punching bag, his hair slicked back with sweat, clad only in black mesh shorts, droplets racing down his muscled back and legs. His breath comes out in controlled pants as he hits in quick succession, the bag swinging from the force. I watch him for a moment, leaning against the doorjamb.
He’s a machine, deadly, something I forget when his hands are on my body, they are capable of killing too, but watching him now, I’m reminded. It doesn’t bother me, if anything it only turns me on. Crossing my legs from the chill, I trace my eyes down his muscular back to the dimples there, my tongue darts out to wet my lips when suddenly, he turns and catches me staring.
I grin, my eyes roving over his stacked, sweaty, glistening chest to his eyes. He wipes his face with his arm, his eyes dark and flickering, his eyebrow raised. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
I step into the room and head over. Uncaring about the sweat, I lean into his chest, rising on my tiptoes, and kiss his lips. “No, I woke up cold and came to find you. What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, pulling away and grabbing the towel from the treadmill next to him, wiping down as I watch.
“Oh, I don’t know, the fact you’re beating the shit out of a bag in the early morning hours?” I tease, and prop my hands on my lips. “Come on, Spidey, spill.”
“Nothing, just had a lot on my mind.” He sighs and then looks at me, finally stilling. “Sorry, didn’t want to leave you. When my mind gets too busy like that, I have to work out.”
“No problem, now I know.” I shrug and then wrinkle my nose. “You need to wash though, and then make me some breakfast, make up for leaving me in your bed all alone.” I pout and he laughs, holding out his arms and coming at me for a hug.
Squealing, I race away, and he laughs and chases me up the stairs, catching me at the top and wrapping me up in his sweaty arms, kissing and tickling me until I call for mercy.
He throws me over his shoulder and heads to his bedroom, straight through to the sink where he deposits me on the counter as he turns on the shower. He points at me with narrowed eyes. “Behave,” he warns, as he kicks off his shoes and opens the glass door, stepping into the spray.
I watch, not the least bit shy about roving my eyes over his impressive body and semi-hard cock as he scrubs his body before shampooing his hair. It’s getting long now, really long.
“You need a haircut,” I scoff, watching him, my legs kicking back and forth on the counter.
He stops and pokes his head around the shower door. “Will you cut it for me?”
“What?” I blurt, my legs stopping.
He shrugs. “Why not? I don’t go to a salon or anything, I usually do it myself. Will you?”
“Er, sure?” I agree, as he slips back under the spray, washing away the conditioner before he turns off the shower and steps out, making my mouth go dry at the pure power there. He grabs a towel, wraps it around his waist, and ties it off. It’s low, showing me all the goods. Damn, this man is crazy beautiful, and he doesn’t even realise it as he grabs another towel and dries his hair before stopping before me, his hands on either side of my hips.
“Now? I have a big date to look good for.” He grins and kisses me. He seems to be in a better mood now, his eyes lightening from earlier.
I had forgot about that for a moment. Now, all my curiosity and excitement comes back. A date with Keanu, I can’t wait.
“If you want. Sure you trust me not to shave a dick into it or something?” I tease.
“You wouldn’t dare, Brat, you wouldn’t be walking right for a year,” he threatens, as he grabs a bag from under the counter, his knuckle running along my thigh provocatively.
“Don’t tease if you won’t deliver.” I laugh and grab the bag, hopping down. “We need a chair.”
He nods and heads into his bedroom and comes back with a chair, placing it before the sink and mirror. He straddles it, watching me as I put the scissors, mirror, and comb down on the counter before heading behind him and stroking my fingers through his hair, finger combing through the knots. I watch in the reflection as his eyes close and he leans back into my touch, making me grin.
Big bad Spider is putty in my hands.
Grabbing the comb, I brush through it, making sure it lies straight before grabbing the scissors and meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Don’t temp me to fuck it up,” I warn playfully, and then turn serious, focusing on his hair. He’s showing me a lot of trust and I know that, so I drop the teasing and cut it properly.
I used to cut my gammie’s and perm it, so it’s pretty easy, plus he doesn’t have a lot of hair. Within ten minutes, I’m done, and he nods, a smile on his face as he stands and grabs me. “Amazing, Brat. Now get washed and dressed, we have things to do!” he orders excitedly, spanking me lightly as I giggle.
His excitement is contagious. I’m curious where we’re going today, but I’m willing to go wherever he wants, I just want to be with him.
I take a quick shower and do basic makeup, not wanting to look underdressed if we go somewhere nice. I leave my hair to curl and dry as I head into his bedroom naked, unashamed by that. He is lying on the bed in slacks, socks, and shoes, his white shirt open and displaying his chest, his arm bent under his head as he scrolls on his phone. He looks up when he hears me and his mouth drops, the phone falling into his face as he sputters.
I hold back my laugh as I turn away and pull open a drawer. “What do I need to wear?”
I purposely bend over farther and hear him groan. “Jeans, whatever you’re comfy in, you look beautiful in anything.”
“Charmer, date first though, then dick,” I purr, winking at him over my shoulder.
“Or it could go dick, date, dick?” He grins, sitting up and watching me as I pull clothes from the dresser and push the drawer shut with my hip.
“Nope, we’re doing this the right way. Guess you’ll have to save all your naughty thoughts until later.” I slip into some panties and a bra before wiggling into tight blue skinny jeans and a blouse. I grab my leather jacket and boots, and then I’m ready. He watches me the whole time, seeming to analyse my every move and store it.
“I was led to believe women take longer to get ready,” he muses.
“Not this woman. Come on, hot stuff, it’s time you took me out.”
“A shooting...range?” I ask, turning in the passenger seat of his jag to see him watching me. If I didn’t know better, I would say he’s nervous.
He scratches the back of his head and looks away for a moment. “Yeah, Max mentioned you wanted to learn, and I know you like thrill seeking, so...I, erm…” He coughs to clear his throat. “I know it’s not a traditional date.”
“But we aren’t traditional people,” I finish and grin at him. Leaning over, I peck a kiss to his lips. “I love it, Spidey.”
He groans but it fades into a grin, relief crossing his face.
“Good, means you can protect me and you too!” he gushes, and gets out of the car. I let him open my door and slip out, our hands linking as he leads me across the gravel car park to the big black building, a clear range to the left and what looks like an assault course to the right.
“What is this place?” I inquire.
“It used to be a government facility for training SAS, but now it’s under Donald’s command, and is used to test new agents and keep the old ones in shape. We have access whenever we want.” He stops at the door and peers down at me. “I need you to stay close, Brat. These men are dangerous, and if they don’t take a liking to you…”
“Pfft, I’m with the baddest, plus everyone likes me, come on,” I urge, and he laughs as he swings open the door to reveal what appears to be the inside of a bloody armoury.
Guns and weapons that I can’t even begin to name cover every inch, with rows and rows of body armour, weapons, tactical gear, and so much more. The room ends in three glass cases arranged in a square, with a man behind the last, watching us as we head over. He nods at Keanu.
“Usual?” he asks, passing over what looks like a token.
“Yep, I need a range of handguns, semi-automatics, and a sniper waiting, five clips each,” Keanu instructs.
The man nods and Keanu turns back to me. “Go, look around if you want, they are just setting up.”
I grin and let go of his hand, losing myself in the racks, feeling his eyes on me at all times, which gives me more confidence. I pick up a grenade and my eyes widen at the word ‘frag’ painted on the side, I carefully put it down and back away, right into someone.
“Shit,” I whisper and jump, turning to see a huge man.
My head cranes back, and back...and back. Jesus, is this man a giant? His scarred face frowns down at me, and another scar runs across his neck, as he watches me in confusion. He’s as wide as he is tall, a massive motherfucker.