by C. Lymari
Walking to my luggage, I pulled out a change of clothes. I had showered earlier in the river since we were limited in amenities for the moment. It didn’t matter that I had the type of money monarchs dreamed of; sometimes I lay in the dirt—all in a day’s work.
“Where do you want me to go?” Bas asked, his voice serious.
I pulled out three items and gave them to him. “When you get to town, go to the first set of coordinates, then follow the second ones. The first coordinates are a gift from Damian. The money is for your safety. Leave with whoever goes to town so they think you’ve gone back, but make your way to that location as quickly as possible.”
He took the items and didn’t ask any more questions. He listened to all the demands and took them in stride. Then he walked up to me, putting his hand behind my head and bringing me closer to him. He kissed the top of my forehead.
No one in my family had been affectionate. I had no loving parents, nor brother. Everyone was out to protect themselves, so this was as foreign to me as the day was to the night. Eclipsed moments were not enough to get me used to tender emotions.
Bastian’s dark eyes pierced me, and I knew what he was going to say would be important. “Having half a heart is better than not having one at all, and baby, yours is still very much beating.”
That half a heart that was still beating pounded against my ribs. I looked away and heard the flap of the tent as he walked away.
I’d been moving chess pieces for the last few years, and this was just another move I had to make. A queen sacrificed soldiers for her victory; this was just another battle I needed to win.
The next day camp was fairly quiet, with people going to cease a fire that I had started. My hair was loose, and I rubbed perfume in my hair, behind my ears, and on my wrist so that I would smell enticing enough to devour.
Keeping out of people’s way, I made my way to the edge toward the riverbank. The camp was set out here since it had clean water that made it easier for people to survive long periods without going back into civilization.
Making sure that I didn’t step on any branches, I climbed onto a rock that overlooked Gideon’s back.
My body felt shaky, as if adrenaline was trying to take over. The man in the water was almost a stranger; he was nothing like the carefree MI6 agent I had met years ago. His features were harder, yet he still had some softness to him. His body was a different story. It looked like it had been carved from marble, all carefully detailed to bring opponents down and women to their knees.
He was covered in tattoos now. I could see some peeking from the back of his head down to where the water met his waist. The snake head that was on the back of his torso glared at me. It was a gorgeous piece of art that I remembered tracing with my fingers, with the tip of my tongue.
“If you want to join me, Petal, you’ll have to ditch your clothes,” he said without turning around. I didn’t have to ask how he knew I was here because, since the moment I met him, there had been an invisible chain wrapped around our necks trying to suffocate us.
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” I told him.
Gideon dived under the water, and I held my breath. My eyes stayed glued to the spot of water right below me. In no time, he was standing in the shallow water. Droplets of water ran from the top of his head down to his chest. The sunrays made the droplets glisten down his pecs and his well-defined abs.
His whiskey eyes shone with mischief.
“Are you a little thirsty, Daph?” Gideon winked.
Maybe if I were a weaker woman, I would have swooned. When he put his tattooed arms on the edge of the rock, I took a step back.
Gideon pulled his body up, water falling down his naked body, and I forced myself not to react. He was by far the most handsome man I had ever met. An enigma, unlike anything I had ever been exposed to. He was like feeling the sun on your skin after years of being in the dark.
He was standing before me naked, and he was hard. His dick was about the only place he didn’t have any tatts—that and his ass.
I gulped, hoping it wasn’t noticeable.
Did it get hotter out here?
“What’s the matter, Petal? Cat got your tongue?” His tone was hoarse, betraying his feelings. He was just as affected as I was judging by the way he was trying to cut steel, maybe even more.
“As I was saying, I’m going back to Sweden first thing in the morning.”
He took another step toward me, his naked body dripping down to my combat boots. His hand came behind my nape, pushing aside my hair, causing my back to arch because of his wet fingers.
“You said that already,” he murmured as he inhaled the skin below my ear. “I don’t know how that’s any of my business?” Gideon asked, just as the tip of his tongue flicked my earlobe.
In an instant, he plastered me to his wet body, his erection nestled between us. My hair was in his hands, and he was pulling it hard, so I was forced to look into his eyes.
My heart beat the same wild beat it was doing earlier, but this time it was with triumph. Whatever remorse I may have been feeling was now gone by his words. Fear shut some people down, but not me because I came from mayhem, and it lit me up like the winter palace at night. When darkness is all you know, you learn to love the shadows.
Something I think he knew. It was scary how much he knew me. We had moments through time and places not enough for him to have my number, yet he did.
“I’ve been waiting for you to make a move, Petal, because I know that I broke a part of you.”
My hand came to his erection, holding him firmly but not enough to cause pain.
“You never even cracked me, handsome.”
I was broken long before he met me.
“I missed that,” he murmured as he moved his hips back and then forth again.
I realized my mistake the second the word left my lips, but it was too late to take it back now.
“I miss the smell of your hair, the way your body succumbs to my demands. I miss the way you curse in Russian when I fuck your pussy hard.”
My grip on his cock became firmer, and my hand started to stroke him. Slowly I raised a hand to his chest, trailing the lines that created eyes of a skull.
“You have it all wrong.” My voice dropped to a sultry tone that made his cock twitch. “It was me riding you.”
“Fuck,” he groaned. He let go of my hair, his hand coming to my throat and the other one grabbing my free wrist and bringing it to his nose. “You always smell like heaven.”
My ministrations became faster and harder because, despite the time and oceans dividing us at points, I knew his body, and he knew mine. We were magnetic poles not meant to attract but to repel, causing destruction in our paths whenever we got too close.
His breathing became labored; the tense energy came off him in waves. He was close. Not only did I read his body language, but when I looked up at him, I saw him. It was in his gaze; he was burning up—he was burning up for me.
I knew a few more strokes and he would become undone, and the evidence would be in my palm—sweet victory at my fingertips.
“Shit,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
The hand at my nape pulled me close to him, and my cheek pressed against his chest. He smelled fresh like spring. I knew warmth didn’t have a smell; it was something you could feel and not see, but I saw it in him. He was like sunshine, and I was like ice. That’s why he was dangerous to me. If he got too close, he could undo all the things I’d sweat blood for.
He squeezed my neck while he moved his lips over my forehead, slowly gliding them down my cheek. I shivered at the prickling sensation from his stubble. His lips made it to the shell of my ear, and he gently bit the helix with enough force that the tip of my ear felt like it was on fire.
“Fuck…you,” he spat. He took a step back, holding on to my neck, making sure I didn’t move. “You want to make me come, Daph? Make sure you win this little pissing contest and somehow in that messed-up head of your
s counting it as a win? Be my guest, Petal, but you’re going to do it on your knees and choking on my dick with the victory of my release falling out of your lips.”
Shit.
I lost my balance when he threw me on the ground, my ass hitting the rocks painfully. I managed to sit up when he was in front of me again, his dick pointing right at me.
The thing about warmth and sunshine was that in a second, it could lose control, setting ablaze and feeling like an inferno. Gideon was pissed, the contours of his face all harsh angles, his mouth set. In his eyes, I saw a challenge.
“Go ahead, Daphne, gag on it,” he growled, looking down at me.
I kneeled for no one, not even for him. I brought my leg up, aiming to kick him, but he was too fast, blocking my move. He held on to my boot, and a slow smile overtook his face, bringing light to his handsome features. He twisted my foot forcefully, causing my body to turn. Before I could move, I felt a weight at my back.
The rocks were hard and jagged beneath me. Gideon had his body over mine, effectively putting me between a rock and a hard place—the hard place being his cock that was poking my ass.
“Get the fuck off me, you asshole.” I seethed, trying to regain control of the situation.
He turned me again, my head hitting the rock hard enough to feel it but not to make my head throb. His body was straddling me over my shoulders, his hardness right by my mouth.
“Don’t try to act all high-and-mighty,” he said as his hand came to grip my chin, forcing my lips to part. He leaned closer, the tip of his dick surrounded by my moist lips, and met with a wall of teeth. “Acting like you’re made of ice—” His other hand came to my throat, choking me until I gasped for air, and he used the opportunity to slide his dick inside of me. “If I touch your pussy, I know what I’ll find.” He let go of my neck and my face.
He thrust in me once, filling me with his length and girth. I could recall the last time I had him, and the memory didn’t do him justice. I took a deep breath, willing my body to remain calm and my mouth not to water.
Gideon smiled, his gaze filled with lust and affection, and I couldn’t take that. I tried to look away. He turned my face as he pulled out slowly.
“You always get so wet for me. Your pussy grips me fucking tight to the point I think you’re trying to chop my dick off.” He stroked my cheek tenderly. “You might fake it with all the others, but we both know never with me.” His words were almost whispered, but my ears rang with the weight they carried. The popping sound his dick made as he pulled it out of my mouth might as well have echoed through the jungle. It attested to his statement.
I couldn’t look at him because what he spoke was true, which made what I was going to do to him so much worse than what he had once done to me.
Only when I was sure he had left did I get up.
Instead of going to camp, I made my way to check on the prisoner. What happened between Daphne and me didn’t need to be broadcasted to everyone. She liked to pretend she was an open book without caring if she was called a whore, but it had always bothered me.
My steps made a crunching sound when I made it to the tent that wasn’t being guarded at the moment. Just because Rivera and Sergio had left, didn’t mean the rest of these fuckers had to be lax.
Opening the flap, I stepped in, my nose scrunching at the smell of piss in the confined space. My eyes quickly found the girl lying on the ground. She was near comatose; her eyes looked right through me. Her heart might still be beating and blood flowing through her veins, but her eyes were fucking dead.
The woman who had been abused was nothing to me. I’d learned to compartmentalize my feelings. She was just a means to an end. I wasn’t always such a cold bastard. I was made this way.
I took a few steps forward and crouched. Rebeca Estacado was beautiful. Olive skin that was now marred with dirt, dark brown hair that was greasy as hell. I put my hand to her cheek, and she didn’t even flinch.
“Your father had the right idea in keeping you locked up. In this world, you’re a liability.”
She didn’t answer me. I got up, grabbing her bowl of water, and refilled it. I turned around about to walk out when her voice halted me.
“When I die, my father will start a war.”
I didn’t turn around. “Love, the war already began.”
The whole day I had been so busy I realized I hadn’t seen much of Bas. I knew Daphne was up to something, but his absence confirmed it. As much as it bothered me, that fucker was always watching her six, so he was good for something.
The Caribbean was hot this time of year. I stripped down to my boxers before crawling on my cot. Since I did a favor for Sergio, he let me have one of the bigger tents with somewhat more comfortable bedding. Before lying down, I hid the object I carried around my neck inside my cargo trousers.
Beds, tents, mattresses, the floor, I’d learned to fall asleep almost anywhere. I was no better than the men who resided here. I might have started all sanctimonious about my job thinking I was doing my country a service. Still, blood stained; it didn’t matter if it was a sanctioned kill or not. At the end of the day, you were the one who carried all those hits at your back, not your precious government. They washed their hands clean once the order was made, and you complied.
Reaching under the pillow that was next to me, I felt my revolver but went past it for my pack of cigarettes. While I smoked, I contemplated leaving this wild goose chase. Daphne carried a grudge; hell would freeze over before she admitted she needed me.
Just when I was straddling the fine line between sleep and consciousness, I heard a noise next to me. Not thinking about it, I reached for my G19 and put it in front of me, meeting a barrier. It took me a second to realize it was Daphne.
“You want to put that down before you hurt yourself?” she whispered.
“I think I’ll keep this out,” I said back, as the muzzle made its way up her chest to her throat. Any other bitch would show fear, but that’s the thing I found so alluring about Daphne. She was unique. I’d been all around the world and had never met anyone like her.
The moment I saw her pearly whites, I had to stop myself from grinning in return. She wanted to play, and I wanted to make her pay.
“Get on top of me.” My voice sounded huskier than I would have liked, but chances like this only came out once in a blue moon. I was no saint, and she was far from being considered a lady.
I wasn’t going to think about that now. Not when I was going to sink myself deep inside her and remind her why we were inevitable.
“I’m not scared of you,” she whispered.
Daphne gave me a triumphant smile, and fuck me, she was gorgeous. All that porcelain skin and black hair got to me, but her eyes, those were the nail to the coffin. In her hands, she waved the Zippo I had taunted her with earlier.
My bait worked. I knew either that or the dagger would have.
“Petal, you should be.” I continued the same as my Glock made it to under her chin, forcing her to tilt up. “My finger could slip, and it’d be a shame to let such a pretty face go to waste.”
The moment her wolf eyes glared at me, I suppressed the urge to grin. She detested being just another pretty face, no matter how much she used her beauty to get what she wanted.
“You don’t have the balls,” she said as one of her hands came between my legs and caressed my hard-on.
Putting my hand on top of my piece, I slid it back, the sound echoing in the confined space. Then I brought it up to her temple. Daphne stayed still, her gaze not leaving mine.
“Get on the bed, Petal,” I murmured.
She bent, and my arm followed the movement, keeping the gun to her head. I heard the thud her boots made as she let them fall on the floor. Slowly she straddled me, her clothes still on while I was naked except for my dick that was tenting my boxers.
“Pull my dick out,” I told her as I lay back, putting one hand behind my head and the other one still holding on to the Glock because I might
want to fuck Daphne every which way to Sunday, but I didn’t trust her.
How could someone so small wreak so much havoc? In the world and my fucking heart. I was desensitized to almost everything but her. I think that’s why I had a sick obsession with her. She was the only person who made me feel anything lately, and it was like a fucking drug I couldn’t get enough of.
Her small hand wrapped around my hard dick, and she gave a stroke.
Fuck.
With the gun still aimed at her head, I threw my head back and closed my eyes for a second. “I want to feel the tip of my dick touch your throat.”
I held my breath waiting for her next move. Anyone who thought I was raping her because I had a gun to her head was wrong. Daphne was no one’s victim. She wasn’t fucked-up, she was just a bit broken, and I liked playing with all the cut-up pieces. I could handle pain, and blood didn’t scare me.
“Fucking missed your mouth,” I hissed the moment I felt her tongue gliding down my shaft. She kept going until I was down her throat. She had no gag reflex. With my eyes still closed, I reached for her hair with my free hand. Her hips rose at the same time as I bunched her hair in my fist and brought her head down.
Her breathing changed, and drool started to fall to my balls. I was fucking her mouth, and yet she wasn’t protesting.
When I slowed down my movements, she sucked me deep. I groaned, and my eyes sprang open. Beauty wasn’t something that starstruck me. I’d seen the wonders the world had to offer. I had beautiful women warming my beds. Beauty was a weapon most women wielded. But with Daphne, it went deeper than just a pretty face.
My back tingled, and my balls got tight. I knew I was close to blowing my load. I couldn’t have that. Leaving all pretense that the gun was actually forcing Daphne to do something she didn’t want to, I tossed it aside.
My hand came to under her arms, pulling her up my body. She fit me to perfection. A tiny little thing with curves in all the right places, and she didn’t need me to protect her, but I would lay down my life for hers in a heartbeat.