Entering the elevator, I press the button for the top floor. As the doors close, my mind flashes back tothatnight; to the night that ended our Hell while simultaneously being the start of a new beginning. A sinister grin slips across my face as I think about that sick fuck burning alive. How he would have felt every moment as he slowly burned, his flesh melting from his bones while he lay there screaming in agony.
The ding of the elevator snaps me out of my flashback, and the doors slide open to reveal the top floor.
Once I'm in my room, I drop my bags and head straight for the bathroom. I strip out of my comfy travel clothes because as much as I love looking like a hot piece of ass when I’m being forced to sit still for hours, it's not the best choice in clothing.But I mean, I still looked cute as fuck.
I groan as the hot water beats down on my tired body. I just wanna sleep for the next twenty-four hours, but I know I can't. I have shit to do, so I’ll have to suck it the fuck up. Once everything has been dealt with, everyone better leave me the hell alone while I sleep like a damn hibernating grizzly bear.
When all of the grime of my travels have washed away, I take the time to enjoy the moment. I'm home. As much as I’m dreading most of the conversations that are going to happen, it feels right being back in my kingdom.
Taking a seat on the shower bench, I close my eyes, putting my head back against the cool tile wall. The shower removed some of the tension, but I’m still wound up like a cobra ready to strike. Mostly because I’m horny as fuck and haven’t had the time to get myself off much with all this traveling. I really hope Neo isn’t so pissed at me that he won’t give me the nice, hard fuck that I so desperately need.
Do you know how fucking awful it was not having anyone to fuck my brains out after a kill? Pure... fucking... torture, that’s how bad. I mean, I could have found a very willing man to fuck me, but the only men that I didn’t want to kill were the men that I brought with me.
Plus, the thought of having sex with anyone who wasn’t one of my guys, feels... wrong. Fuck, they’ve really gotten under my skin, but they were the ones who spilled their feelings for me and made me feel shit back for them. So they better be willing to fuck me when I want it and how I want it because there's no turning back now. They're mine, and not just to possess. No, they are mine to protect; to fight for, as well, and to... love.Fuck. I love those stupid idiots.
My heart has been so closed off tothatfeeling since the moment I left their driveway eight years ago, but they had to go and fucking worm their way back in and change everything!
If they think I’m just gonna start throwing around that word all willy-nilly, then they have another thing coming. They might be forgiven for their past mistakes, mostly because it was all one massive misunderstanding, but they still have to earn that four-letter word. Even though the dynamics of the way we are around each other will change that doesn't mean I'm gonna be all mushy-gushy now.
Too lazy to go and get my handy helper from my bag, I take the old fashion route. Getting into a comfortable position, I slip my hands over my breasts, brushing my fingertips against my aching nipples. I moan as I pinch and pull, using the heel of my hands to massage my tits. The feeling in my belly starts as a low hum while I imagine Neo sucking and nipping at one of my breasts while Cass pays attention to the other. One of my hands slips down over my belly, stopping to graze my throbbing clit. “Fuck.” I hiss as I add pressure, rubbing in circular motions, shivering at the shock of pleasure that courses through my body.
Needing more, needing something, anything inside me, I dip my fingers in between my dripping folds. Coating my fingers with my juices, I thrust two fingers into my hot cunt and groan. I pump my fingers as deep as they will go, trying my hardest to hit the sweet spot, but my stupidly fucking small and dainty fingers don’t do the trick like my men’s sausage fingers would.
Pulling my fingers free, I slip them over my clit, and give it a few more rubs before dipping back inside myself. I start to alternate between the two as my mind imagines Dean between my legs. Him looking up at me with his soulful eyes, hooded with hungry desire while he feasts on my pussy.
The feeling in my lower belly grows and I feel my impending orgasm build. Abandoning my finger fuck, I focus on my clit becauselet’s be honest, it's doing shit all for me when I’m used to beastly fucks. I allow the image of Dean taking the bundle of nerves into his mouth, sucking it relentlessly until I’m seeing stars while riding his face hard enough to smother him. I take my own pleasure, and he’s loving every fucking second of it.
With that little porno playing vividly in my mind, I cum. I let out a moan as the feeling washes over every inch of my body, but it's over way too damn fast.
“What the fuck?” I huff. Fucking rip-off of an orgasm if you ask me! I cum harder eating my favorite food. “Fuck this shit,” I bitch, shutting off the shower, and storming into the room. I look at my open bag, seeing my not-so-helpful friend peeking out. “Where were you when I needed you, huh? Useless dick,” I scoff. I know it's not the dildo’s fault that I was too lazy to come out here, and get him, but I'm cranky, unsatisfied, and hornier than I was before. “Sorry, dude.” I hold it up in front of my face. “Don't mind me. I know you have always helped me out when I’m in a tough spot, but right now, not even you can feed this lady's hunger. I'm gonna need a real man for this, and I’m no Geppetto, so there's no hope for you. Sorry,” I say again with a frown, tossing him to the side.
I dig through my bag, searching for the perfect outfit. I settle on a blood-red corset top with black lace trim and a pair of black leather shorts. I opt out of the heels and switch them for some black Converse, because why the fuck not.
My phone rings, and I grab it off the side table where I have it charging.
“Hey, Miller. You got eyes on my man?” I ask, gathering my makeup to bring into the bathroom to make myself not look like a fucking zombie.
“Sadly, yes. I know he’s aware that I’m tailing him, but he just doesn't seem to care if he gets caught at this point. It’s a good thing you got here when you did.”
Sighing, I dump everything on the counter. “Well, where is he?”
“The good news is, he's at one of your properties. The warehouse on Ninety-ninth. But from the sound of the screaming, if someone were to walk by, they would call 911.”
“Fuck,” I groan. “Alright. Fifteen minutes tops.”
Hanging up. I glance at myself in the mirror. I don't have time to do my normal look, so I put my hair into a slick high ponytail, add some winged liner and my blood-red lipstick.
Going back into the main room, I strap my daggers to my thighs, not giving a fuck if people stare, and slip my gun into my waistband.
Taking the elevator down to the main floor I head over to the front desk. “Hey there, shit stain,” I smile sweetly. “Name’s Queenie. I own room 202. Remember this face so you don't make the mistake like before. Or a bullet just might find its way between those pretty blue eyes of yours.”
His eyes go wide. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. It will never happen again. I’m new,” he frantically apologies.
“Ugh, so not cool, dude. Ma’am makes me sound old. I’m only twenty-six. Just call me Queenie.”
“Yes, ma’am, I mean, Queenie, ma’am.” Rolling my eyes, not having time for this, I head towards the underground entrance. Was I a bit bitchy to the poor sap? Yes, but I’m too tired and stressed to care right now.
Taking another elevator down, it opens up into a private parking lot full of shiny toys. And mine is in the corner away from all the others, the bright red Lamborghini.