“Nero’s house?”
He holds up a second finger, and my body reacts as though it heard him say that’s two. “I am not going to let you sit around for the next four hours with pieces of glass, or whatever it is, in your fucking feet.”
I’m hardly even listening to him. But he’s right. I don’t want my feet to throb for the next however many hours. But his little scolding has my body responding, and I also don’t want to wait the same number of hours until we’re back at Nero’s house to do something about it.
Leaving me where I am, Hans stomps out of the office, and I assume he’s off to find a first aid kit.
I shift on the seat, but the hard metal chair is uncomfortable against the bruises that are definitely forming on my ass.
Gingerly, I climb onto the floor.
If Hans wants access to my feet, he can have it.
CHAPTER 126
Hans
After repressing every feeling, aside from rage, for the past twenty years, I feel like I’m vibrating with emotions.
Relief and sadness over my past battle with fear and pride over my woman.
Cassandra.
I force my heart to slow.
What she did.
What she did for me.
I can’t decide if I want to spank her ass for doing anything other than sitting meekly while waiting for me to rescue her, or if I want to shower her with affection for being exactly what I need.
She’s my everything.
I’d pulled the office door shut as I left, so I shift the first aid kit and bottles of water into one arm and open the door.
And then lust slams past all my other emotions because Cassandra is there, on her knees and elbows, with her lush ass in the air.
I slam the door shut behind me and depress the flimsy lock button on the handle.
“What the fuck are you doing?” My words come out choked.
She turns her head to look back at me over her shoulder. “That chair was hurting my butt.”
My mouth opens and closes as I look between her face, her perfect ass hugged in black tactical pants, and the soles of her feet that are facing the ceiling and smeared with blood.
I stomp to the windows and lower the cheap blinds as quickly as I can. If anyone inside the hangar saw her like this…
“Cassandra Lynn,” I growl.
“Hans…” Her face scrunches up. “What’s your middle name?”
“Tomas.” I don’t want to humor her in this, but there’s nothing about myself I won’t tell her.
“Hans Tomas, my butt is sore from sliding down the stairs. My hands are sore from holding that gun. My feet hurt”—she wiggles her toes—“so on my knees and elbows is the most comfortable way for me to be right now.”
I shove away my desire to reach out and rip her pants down her hips and focus on the fact that my Butterfly is hurting.
Then she smiles at me. “And if being like this makes you want to fuck me, well, I bet that would make me feel better too.”
She shifts her weight on her elbow and holds up three fingers.
I drop the first aid kit and sink to my knees behind her, the wound in my leg protests at the movement, but I’m beyond noticing.
Cassandra sighs and relaxes into the pose, arching her back and lifting her ass.
I shuffle closer to her, my pants catching on the rough carpet. But then I remember her bloody feet.
“Butterfly.” I lightly drag a finger down the outside of her foot. “You’re hurting.”
“Hans, I’m aching.” Her hips shift.
And I decide I can multitask.
CHAPTER 127
Cassie
Hans reaches around my waist and starts to undo my pants.
“You’re going to have to hold still and stay quiet.” He tugs the zipper down. “If you can’t do that, I won’t let you finish.”
I nod my head, agreeing to whatever he wants, as he works my pants and underwear down my hips, stopping with the material bunched just below the juncture of my thighs.
Hans clicks his tongue. “Little Girl, what have you done to yourself?”
I feel his breath a moment before he presses a soft kiss to the center of my butt cheek.
A tickling sensation dances up my spine at the tender touch, but I stay still.
I can hear him shift behind me, but I’ve dropped my head forward so I can’t see what he’s doing.
A fingertip traces a pattern across my skin, then it ghosts down my crack, toward my entrance, without applying any pressure.
My legs are pressed together, but with the way I’m presenting myself to him, he can see my core. So I’m sure he can see how ready I am.
“Remember,” Hans whispers. “Stay still. And stay quiet.”
Even covered with blinds, the thin window does nothing to dampen the sound of the men on the other side.
I nod my head.
“Hand over your mouth, Butterfly.”
The bratty part of me wants to argue that I can stay quiet on my own. But the needy part of me wants to do whatever it will take for him to hurry up and put his dick in me.
I put my hand over my mouth, and Hans rubs his finger against my slit just as he pours water over the sole of my foot.
It’s cold. And I jerk at the shock, my body shifting forward, but at the same time, Hans shoves two fingers inside me.
Involuntarily, I make a sound between a moan and a cry, and I press my hand harder against my mouth.
Water splashes over my other foot, but the fingers inside of me stay put.
I squeeze my eyes shut. The mixture of arousal and discomfort swirls, making me even hotter.
“My poor girl,” Hans murmurs behind me, sliding his fingers in and out of me.
There’s a click, and I assume he’s opening the first aid kit.
“You’re doing so good.” His fingers push deeper. “Just keep holding still.”
There’s a sharp zing of pain in the heel of my foot, and I wince.
“Shh.” Hans leans forward and presses another kiss to my skin.
His fingers keep working, and my mind is fogging over so I hardly feel the next few pieces being pulled from my feet.
“Just one more, Butterfly.” He sinks his fingers in until I can feel his knuckles pressed against me. Then he pushes another finger, his thumb, between my folds and rubs against my clit.
I bite down on my palm as a moan rolls out of me, and Hans pulls the piece from my foot. Something drops to the floor, and I imagine it was some sort of tweezers.
“Good girl. That’s my good girl.” He splashes water on my feet again, and this time, I clench around him. “One more bad part left, then I’ll make it all better. I promise.”
I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter.
I don’t know much about first aid, but I’m certain some sort of painful antiseptic is next.
“Hold still, remember?”
I nod again, beyond words.
The thumb against my clit pulls away, and I feel Hans’s fingers twist inside me.