“Ten minutes,” I moaned woefully. “I’m not sure I can last that long, handsome.” I pressed into him, batting my eyes. “I’m so hot for you. I need you right now. Let’s go around the back of the building and fuck up against the wall.” I uttered the words breathlessly while I stroked his sturdy chest with my palms.
“Fuck, baby. What sort of man would I be to deny an offer like that?”
A breathing one, I thought, smiling demurely.
He took my hand and pulled me around the back of the club. I continued my seductive act the entire way while keeping an eye out for anyone who might see us.
That was lesson number one from Grigory—kills needed to be anonymous, even in the mortal world.
Paul pulled me close to him when we reached the dark alleyway behind the club. I felt the heat coming off his body, and I hoped the anticipation in mine provided enough to convince him I was ready for him. He pressed his lips hard against min
e, his hand snaking around my throat to give it a preliminary squeeze.
Not wasting a single moment, it seemed.
What did he plan to do? Strangle me right here within earshot of others? Maybe that got him off, the extra excitement of potentially being caught mid-fuck.
“Such a pretty girl,” he growled into my mouth. “I bet you fuck so good. Are you ready for me, babe? I’m going to leave your pussy broken for all men in the future.”
“Stop with the talking and start with the showing,” I said, needing to be sure I’d chosen the right male to kill. His soul was as black as the river flowing through Noxia, but I had to be sure.
His hand tightened around my neck, and for a moment, a memory of being held down sliced through my thoughts. Pain shivered down my spine, followed by shame and adrenaline-spiked fear.
There’d been so many men.
So many spectators.
I trembled, just for a moment, hating myself for allowing the terror to grip me even for a second.
I’m no longer that woman.
Grigory had awoken something in me. A newfound strength and a lust for revenge. I focused on that need and cleared the memory from my mind.
“I’m really going to enjoy this,” Paul growled, something sharp pressing into my side.
There, I thought. There’s my proof.
“I hope you’re into knife play, baby,” he murmured, drawing the dagger up my side.
Oh, you have no idea, I thought back at him. “I-I… no, not really,” I said, feigning uncertainty.
“Aw, really?” He didn’t stop moving the weapon, not until it hit my throat and pressed in enough to draw a hint of blood.
My eyes widened as I tried to jerk away from him, but his opposite hand gripped my hip, forcing me to remain in place. “Not so fast.”
“I’ll scream,” I threatened.
“I hope you do,” he replied, sounding amused. “I hope you beg me to stop, too.” He pressed his hard cock into my lower belly. “Now lift your skirt for me.”
“I… I think this was a mistake.” I attempted to push him away once more.
He responded by pressing the sharp edge into my throat. “Don’t be a fucking tease, bitch. Lift your skirt.”
“Wow, what a gentleman you’ve turned out to be,” I shot back, unable to hold the words inside. “Release me.”
He just laughed. “I didn’t spend the last two hours flattering you to go home with blue balls. Lift. Your. Fucking. Skirt.”
I nodded, licking my lips. “All right. But you asked for this.”