“D,” she murmurs, but I ignore her as I get into his face.
“Choose your words carefully. Is there anything else you can tell me?” I ask, holding back for now, trying to do my job, even though I want to rip him to pieces.
“They have hired others, kids, to kill you. They won’t stop until you’re dead, and they have someone who knows things about you,” he rushes out.
“A mole?” I demand.
He shakes his head harder. “No-no, some of the intel was old, I’m guessing an ex-employee.”
I slap his face lightly. “You did good.”
I’m beyond pissed someone we gave a job to has betrayed us. I’ll have to tell Ryder and let him search through them. We tend to monitor old employees to make sure they don’t need anything, but this? This is betrayal.
Turning away, I smirk at my little bird as I palm my small knife from my waist. She gasps as I spin and slice his neck. His eyes widen in shock, and he sputters as blood squirts and pumps from the wound. He can’t stop it, and I put my face directly in his as he dies, seeing the light dim from his eyes. “She is mine. Mine!” I roar.
I watch him die, and then, still feeling that need roaring through me, I turn to face my woman. She’s watching me with fear and desire warring in her eyes as I step closer. Good, she should fear me. I could burn her as easily as she could consume me.
She knows I’m dangerous, knows that maybe being in my arms means her death, but she steps forward willingly. We are just two people who found each other in this dark, brutal world. She’s fucked up, but I am too. Together, we could be something amazing, or we could explode.
I want to find out.
I won’t be her saviour, I’ll be her sinner.
But she’s okay with that—more than okay as she presses herself against my chest and tilts her head back to grin up at me. I can hear the blood dripping to the floor behind me, but she ignores him as much as I do. We have been dancing around these flames since she first got here, and it’s time for us to ignite.
“Diesel.” The way she says my name sends a pulse of lust straight to my already hard cock. Her lips are parted in desire, the crests of her breasts almost tumbling from her top as she breathes heavily.
“Little Bird,” I reply, lowering my head slowly, giving her a chance to pull back. I wouldn’t let her escape, but it would set the tone for how this is going to end. Does she want a fight like with Kenzo, or does she want to surrender to me and the pain and pleasure I wield?
She meets me halfway. I tangle my fingers in her hair and drag her closer, forcing her onto her toes as I kiss her. She calls to that feral part in me, beckons it out to cover her skin in it. “Please,” she begs against my lips.
It’s her plea that does it, and she knows it. Her eyes are alight with mischief, my little bird knows exactly what to say to play this game. She’s willing to do anything to get what she wants, and right now, that’s me.
Deep inside of her.
Her cheeks are flushed with desire, and her eyes sparkling. Even down here in the basement, she shines like a jewel. Her hand trails down my chest, and I let her. She deftly unfastens my jeans and frees my cock, her eyes dropping to it.
She takes in the tattoo on my dick and the flames that lead up across my hips, and licks her lips. “Flames?”
“A reminder of how easily we can all fall,” I murmur.
She nods in understanding as she circles my length before flicking my piercing on the end. Growling, having had enough of her playing, I grab her hands and drag them over her head until she’s stretched. “That’s not how it’s going to be, Little Bird.”
“No?” she challenges with a grin flirting on her lips.
“You want soft, go to the others, you come here, and you get pain. But you already know that, Little Bird. You came here to punish yourself with me, for wanting us, for giving in. I will gladly oblige.”
Her knees buckle so I hold her up—no, this won’t work. I need my hands free.
Keeping her hands in mine, I trap them under my arm as I quickly undo the ties on the assassin’s chains and toss his corpse into a corner. I drag her behind the pool of his spilled blood, and I chain her one hand at a time, forcing the chains down until they circle her wrists and she can barely touch the floor. I make sure to wrench her shoulders back until she gasps, the pain constant and unsparing. Keeping her on edge.
Pleasure is just another form of torture, and I am a master.
Her eyes are wide, her chest heaving as she watches me. She wants this, she entered this place willingly. Now I’m going to take her, again and again, until I’m satisfied, and if she survives it, then she is one of us.
Using the same small knife I wielded to slit the man’s throat, I slice down her top, cutting it off her. It falls away to reveal her breasts, which are tumbling from a see-through, black lace bra. I make sure to carefully remove her boots, knowing she’s fond of them. When her creamy skin is exposed to me, I wipe the blade and disinfect it, needing it to be clean for what I have planned.
She watches me with a gulp, eyes wild. Her blush stains her chest now as I trace my eyes down her tattoos and curves. She is delicious, all temptation. Thick thighs, tattoos, and a crazy attitude that has me rock-hard all the time.
“I’m going to run this knife across your skin, not cutting, not yet, just dragging. Leaving delicious pink marks for my mouth to follow,” I tell her, letting the blade catch in the light and glisten.
Stepping closer, I brush my lips against hers. “Right to your sweet little wet pussy that I can smell.” As I talk, I slice downwards, cutting off her bra. Tossing it away, I slide the knife edge between the skin of her hip and the string of her thong, making her still as I slash upwards quickly. I toss that away as well. She’s fucking stunning. Her skin is marred by some scars and ink—she’s mouth-watering.
Addictive.
My favourite new obsession.
“Then do it, stop talking,” she snaps.
“Or maybe I’m just not done playing with you? Maybe I’m waiting to see that fire in your eyes.” Grinning, I step around her, trailing my finger across her plump ass and around her hip to her stomach, stopping at her belly ring. Eyes locked on hers, I tug on it. She stays quiet at first until I pull harder, then a whimper escapes her, making me groan. And there it is, that fire. “There, that’s better,” I murmur.
“Asshole,” she spits, trying to lean back, the chains rattling.
I lunge forward, pressing the knife to her neck where, not minutes before, I had slit a man’s throat. She swallows and tilts her head back, and when her eyes meet mine, she presses into the blade, testing me. Seeing how far I’ll go. When it breaks the skin and her blood touches the blade, I pull away, and she laughs.