"Tell me, is that what you want?" I thrust harder into her pussy, and her wetness flows down my fingers, coating my entire hand. I feel the way her body's becoming slack in my arms, her eyes wide as they never leave mine, her tongue playing with the tip of my thumb as she releases soft, mewy moans.
"Tell me," I repeat, wanting to hear exactly what she's craving.
No matter how depraved.
"You," she replies softly, her eyes fluttering closed as she pushes herself on my fingers. "You're all I want," she continues, sucking on my thumb as I finger fuck her pussy.
"That's the perfect answer, my sweet little flower," I murmur against her lips, leaning forward and giving her a long lick with my tongue. "Because I'm going to give you a prize for your kill," I continue to thrust in and out of her, my thumb on her clit as I circle the little bud until she's writhing in my arms.
My knee between her legs, I let her place all her weight on me as she starts coming, her orgasm making her gasp against my mouth.
"But I'm not going to fuck you now. Not when anyone could see you. I told you before, hell girl. You're for my eyes only. Your sounds," I apply more pressure on her pussy with my entire hand, the back of my palm squeezing her clit while my fingers are buried deep inside her, "your facial expressions. Everything is for me, and me alone. Understand?"
"Yes," she can barely speak as she crashes against me, her head on my shoulder, her breathing harsh.
"Good," I lift the fingers coated in her essence and I bring them to my mouth, sucking them. "Because I'd have to kill anyone who saw you," I add, my other hand still on her neck as I gently knead her flesh. "I would gouge their eyes out, and turn their brains to mush," I rasp, violence simmering inside me at the thought of another looking at her.
"You'd give them a lobotomy?" she probes, amused.
"I'd obliterate every sensory organ," I continue, and I notice she's getting off on my description. "I'd make it so that there's nothing left of them. Is that what you want, hell girl? You want me to take them apart limb by limb while you watch? You'd like that, wouldn't you? See the river of blood that flows out of their veins..." I trail off, feeling the way her pulse picks up. "You think I haven't realized that blood turns you on?" She gasps softly, lifting those pretty eyes of hers to look at me, so light and big and fuck me if the way she gazes at me alone doesn't unman me.
"What is it about it that arouses you so? Is it the color? That deep red that mesmerizes and tantalizes the senses? Or is it the consistency? That sticky feeling that reminds you of my cum all over your tight little body?"
Her body starts quivering, my words affecting her just like my touch. Her cheeks are flushed, her pupils so fucking big as if she drowned herself in belladonna. "Or wait," I chuckle softly, moving my mouth over her cheek until I reach her ear, nibbling at the small lobe, "I think it's the sight of life leaving a body that has you so hot and bothered. The fact that red is the very essence life, and when it flows..." I pause as I hear her intake of breath, "you gain control over death."
Her mouth drops open, and the beginning of a moan escapes her lips before I swallow it whole with my mouth, feeling her pleasure as mine. That mere action has me coming on the spot, my cock jerking in my jeans, spurts of cum staining the inside of my pants.
It's minutes later that she gains control of her body, and as she glances up at me, I know that she can feel how fucking hard I came just from pleasuring her.
The corners of her mouth lift up in a mischievous smile.
"You're dangerous," she whispers, her hand trailing down my chest, "but maybe I'm more dangerous," she says as she slips her hand beneath the waistband of my pants, cupping me and giving me a quick stroke, her hand gathering all my cum as she brings it up to her face. She teases me with her tongue as she licks my seed off her fingers, all the while giving me that innocent look of hers.
"That's it, Sisi. We need to get back," I breathe out, barely able to contain myself. "Now."
She blinks twice as she realizes the urgency of my words and for once she starts behaving, probably knowing that if she pushes me over the bring I will fuck her right here, and then I'll have to kill any unlucky passerby.
We quietly load the priest in the back of my car and then we're back at the compound, finalizing the plans.
True to her word, Sisi had designed a board of connections for everyone we'd been able to find information on, with some people still holding question marks—like DeVille and Guerra.
There's a question mark from Meester to Miles as well, but his other connections, to my father and brother are becoming clearer.
Dressed in a pair of wide legged pants and a tight shirt, she's standing in front of the panel, her thumb stroking her jaw as she's considering the information.
"There's something that doesn't sit right with me," she turns to me, frowning. I nod to her to continue, taking a chair and waiting for her to speak.
"See here," she points to all the Russian Syndicates that are confirmed to be involved with Miles. The same ones who are out for my blood now. "Some of these are very small organizations," she notes, grabbing a file and going through each organization in part. "Vasiliev has maybe fifty people in total, Semenov has even less. You and Yelchin have the most under you, but even that isn't great."
"Are you criticizing my organization, hell girl?" I drawl but she just rolls her eyes at me.
"With these numbers, why would they be investing in a super soldier experiment? What's in it for them? And an experiment that doesn't have any reliable data either."
My lips curl up and I can't help but look at her in awe.
"You'd be right," I get up from the chair and head to her board, continuing to watch her as she walks me through her reasoning.
"At first, I thought that maybe they'd want these super soldiers for their own organization, and certainly, who wouldn't want someone who doesn't feel pain," she tilts her head at me, "has no fear and is practically a war machine. But this is an exorbitant amount of money that's been flowing from and into their accounts," she thrusts the papers at me.
I don't even have to look to know what she's talking about since I have them already memorized.
"Then I thought that maybe they were looking to sell them, since they would be a hot commodity to any private or national army," she continues and my lips twitch, pride swelling in my chest as I see where she's going.
She's my match. In absolutely every way.
"But why would they risk so much money in something that's not remotely close to a finished product," she asks, her tone serious.
"Are you saying I'm an unfinished product, hell girl?" I fire back, enjoying the way she becomes flustered.
"Vlad!" she exclaims, fuming at me.
"Go on, go on," I lift my hands up to pacify her.
"What I'm trying to say," she takes a deep breath, turning to the board, "is that I don't think Project Humanitas is where they are funneling the money in or out of," she explains. "Maybe some of it ends up there, since Miles is clearly a fanatic, but how many people do you think would buy the super soldier bullshit? My father certainly didn't and by all accounts he would have been thrilled at the prospect of having killing machines at his beck and call."
"Indeed," I reply, my eyes sparkling with excitement. "Then where do you think the cashflow is coming from?"
She purses her lips, her brows drawing together.
"Human trafficking of some sort. But it must be at an insane scale. Think about it. Children missing. People without the mutation missing. There must be some type of underground ring and everyone is involved. The question is, though, what could be so important that all these people were so keen on investing? It's clear everything ties to Miles somehow, but besides his weird, rather personal, plans about the super soldiers, there's no other information on what he could be up to."
"You're right," I agree, my voice full of pride. "My guess is that once Miles realized he couldn't get the investment he needed for his project, he resorted
to something else to draw people in. At the same time, he funneled some of that money into his own research. You're right that not everyone would buy into the super soldier crap he had going, even though the results do seem appealing. The research, though, isn't reliable enough for him to be able to push it to the more skeptical people," I add, coming to stand next to her in front of the board.
"And I think that's where Meester comes into play," I point to his photo at the top of the board, tracing his connection to Miles with my fingers. "Ever since my father took him under his wing, he's been extolling the virtues of human trafficking as a source of fast cash. At the time, my father had his own, rather profitable business with drugs, and he wasn't a man prone to change what was already working for him."
"So Meester started his own thing."
"Yes. You saw the situation at Papillion. There's a demand for everything. There are just not enough people who can fulfill these demands. Animals, humans, rarities, every one of those is valuable to the right buyer. And Meester certainly capitalized on that."
"And the fights," she notes.
"Yes. His main business is the fighting. He buys slaves from all over the world and trains them to be the next best thing."
"Do you think that might be it? Illegal fighting? But wouldn't that profit from strong, genetically superior fighters?"
"I've thought about that too, and I've managed to pull some data from his past fights. But because everything is so underground, I couldn't find much. The info I do have points towards regular fighters. So if he does have some of those super soldier Miles might have created, he hasn't shown them to the public yet."
"Then it can't be illegal fighting that everyone is so interested in, right?"
I shake my head.
"No. It's too niche and unpredictable for this many people to be involved in it. I've had a word with Enzo too, since a lot of the stuff that goes on in that sphere is linked to his name. He's been digging into it and he promised to send me an updated file with buyers and suppliers."
"You think Jimenez might have been involved in this?" She asks, frowning.
I'd given her a full rundown of Enzo's businesses and everything that had happened in the past few years when Enzo had struck a deal with Jimenez to sell out his family. But with Jimenez's untimely death he'd become the sole executor of half his fortune.
And since Jimenez was a known sex trafficker in the region, it might make sense that he'd be involved in this shit.
Except he isn't.
I should know since I've been listening in to all of Enzo's conversations for the better part of the year, giving me a good enough idea of what Jimenez left behind and how Enzo's been using those resources.
"Nope," I answer without hesitation. "You could say I'm intimately familiar with the workings of Jimenez's empire since he was the first one I tried to infiltrate in my search for Katya. I know almost every facet of his business and I can assure you he couldn't have been involved. Mostly because he couldn't break into New York until very recently. This," I point towards the board of connections, "is much older and probably stretches back more than a decade."
"I see," she nods, digesting the information.
"But now, when you figure Sacre Coeur into the equation, I think it's something a bit different," I add, narrowing my eyes.
I have a hunch of what it might be, but I'll reserve judgement for after we get the information from Mother Superior.
"It's definitely something valuable if so many people are willing to bet everything on it."
"We find out what that is, and we find Miles. Because an operation of this magnitude is bound to need a lot of space to manage that flow of people. And most definitely, we're talking about a lot of crooked officials that allow this to happen."
"Dear God, but that means levels and levels of corruption," she adds, horrified.
"Yes. And knowing how dangerous going that deep is going to be, I would have ceased this immediately for your safety. But they are already targeting us, so I need to make sure they are wiped off the face of this earth. Only then will I be at peace," I say, resolute in my decision to end this for good.
As long as anyone aims to hurt my Sisi, then they are as good as dead.
"Vlad," she turns to me, "you know I would never let you do that. Even if it was for my safety. You need to find your sister, and even more, you need to find out what happened to Vanya. Otherwise you'll never be able to move past this."
She raises her hand, fitting it to my cheek.
"You've seen how unlocking some of your memories has helped you. I believe that once you know for sure what happened to you two there you will be able to move on. And maybe your episodes will disappear too—this time forever," she says softly, her warm gaze full of love.
"You're right," I take a deep breath. "And I do need to get better. For you," I start, leaning into her touch, "and for the family we'll have in the future. I know I wouldn't be able to trust myself with..." I trail off and she knows exact what I mean as her mouth pulls into a sad smile.
"You're enough for me, Vlad. I just want you to be better for you."
"I may be enough now," I trail a finger down her face, tucking a strand behind her ear, "but I won't be enough forever," I tell her sincerely.
I'd known this ever since I'd seen how affected she'd been by the miscarriage. She is so kind and so full of love that any child would be lucky to have her.
"You're going to want children eventually, Sisi, and I need to be normal enough to be able to give them to you."
"Vlad..."
"No," I place my finger on her lips, "don't lie to me and don't lie to yourself, Sisi. I know you will want a family someday. And I want that too, because I know what a great mother you'll make. But until that moment comes, I'll do my best to work on myself so that I'm not a danger to you, or to our children."
"God, Vlad," she whispers, her eyes glossy with tears, "why are you so perfect?" she sighs deeply.
"I'm not. But I aim to be. For you," I lean in to kiss her forehead.
"We need to focus on her office and her living quarters," I tell her after we'd carefully watched some of the footage from Sacre Coeur, making some notes regarding Mother Superior's patterns.
"She is the type of person who would keep everything on paper," Sisi notes as she dons her habit again.
Unlike the nuns who'd taken their vows, her habit isn't black, but a light blue.
"I can't believe I have to wear this again," she mutters under her breath as she stuffs her hair into the headpiece. "Well?" she turns towards me, raising an eyebrow.
"What do you want me to say? To me you'd look hot dressed in anything."
"This," she huffs out a breath, taking a hand mirror and examining her birth mark. "That's why I hated these headpieces. This is always so visible," she releases a disappointed sigh.
"Sisi," in two steps I'm behind her, turning her to face me and making her drop the mirror. "This," I brush my hand across her red mark, "only makes you more unique. It gives your beauty character."
I lean in to kiss the spot right above her eyebrow, "the sum of your imperfections is what makes you perfect to me, Sisi."
"There you go again with your honeyed words," she murmurs, blushing to the roots of her hairs.
"Don't put your head down again," I tip her chin up so she can look in my eyes, "I told you hell girl. From now on everyone's going to bow to you, not look down on you."
She nods at me.
"You're right. I should stop being ashamed of this," she touches her birthmark with her finger, "it's part of what makes me me," she says and I couldn't be prouder of her.
"Yes, I'm glad we're on the same page," I chuckle, giving her a quick kiss on the lips, "now finish dressing so we can go."
"I'm done," she says, appraising me with her eyes, "I can't say the same thing about you, though, Mr. Hot Priest," she motions to my neck.
I'd dressed entirely in black, donning a classical catholic cassock, but I hadn't y
et put on the clerical collar.
Taking the white piece off the table, she places it around my neck, making sure it's laid in place and covering my tattoo.
"Now, if you were my priest," she starts saucily, suggestively moving her hands all over my chest, "I know I'd be a permanent fixture for confession time."
"Really," I drawl, "and what would your confession be, hell girl?" I ask, curious to see what she'd cook up.
Her lips curl upwards in a feline smile, her lashes fluttering in that maddening fashion of hers, "I'd ask for forgiveness..." she trails off, suddenly imitating a shy schoolgirl as she peers at me bashfully, "for playing with my pussy while thinking about you," she whispers, two red dots staining her cheeks.
Fuck!
"Damn it, Sisi! You can't say things like that and assume I won't be spending the entire time thinking about you in that damned confession booth, playing with yourself while I listen to you moaning your sins," I groan, closing my eyes and willing my body to behave.
We have a plan. A carefully laid out plan that has no room for any mistakes. Or for illicit rendezvous in the confession booth, or me fucking her on the altar table, because damn if that's not all I can think about now, the image of her laid out bare before me, surrounded by holy objects when she's in fact the holiest of them all...
"Fuck, Sisi. You're killing me here, hell girl," I mumble as I reach down to adjust my cock.
"Well, aren't you coming?" I open my eyes to see her already at the door, a satisfied grin on her face.
"You're a goddamn cock tease, aren't you?" I call out as I sheathe my knives before following her.
Her soft laughter is the only reply I get as I try to get back in the zone.
I'm a simple man. I only have two default settings—killing and Sisi. And when the latter is activated, you can damned well bet I'll be useless for anything other than her.
The drive to the church takes us over an hour, time in which we go over the plan once more. Since Sisi is familiar with every corner of Sacre Coeur, we aren't going in blind. Although I'd done my homework by studying the security footage, there are only a few security camera aimed at the cloisters and the living quarters of the nuns. So I'll rely on her knowledge for that.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 64