With her soft hair tangled in my fingers, I usher her into my bedroom and kick the door shut. We continue to the adjoining ensuite, freshly redecorated in obsidian marble to match my soul.
“Take your filthy boots off.” I force myself to release her and glare at the elegant shape of her grazed shins, letting my eyes glide upward to bare thighs. My dick jerks. She swallows a gulp, all the while keeping her gaze locked with mine, clashing like killer knives. “Do it.” I snarl.
Slowly she lowers, sits on her ass and tugs at the laces to untie the sweet little bows. Once she’s kicked off the Doc Martens, I lunge at her again and force her to stand upright with a merciless grip on her bicep. The beat of my pulse is off the charts, making my abdomen clench. I can’t decide if it’s a thirst for bloodshed or a hunger to fuck.
Nonetheless, I roughly shove her into the open shower and flick the lever, inviting a rush of water to rain down on her filthy state. We’re both plastered in brownish scum. It’s disgusting and fucking stomach churning.
She cowers under the jets, but her eyes are glowing amber irises, blazing with injustice. I set my gun on the countertop and stare at my hands. The hands of a god, or the weapons of a devil. Both titles are unable to show mercy.
Carina stays still, her skin draining of Papá’s blood as I kick off my shoes and drag my pants past my hips. My boxers are next to join the grimy fabric on the heated tiles underfoot.
Doing what I always do, I lower to my haunches and scoop the filthy garments in a bundle to incinerate them later. The second my hands are full; she bolts from the shower to snatch the gun. Kamikaze splashes shoot in every which way as she finds the perfect stance to take aim.
“Don’t move,” she hisses. “Put your hands up.”
Droplets plummet from the tips of her soaked hair, and the blossomy dress clinging to her curves is wickedly transparent. A hedonistic shiver prickles my spine as intrigue clashes with my cruel intentions. Her belief of control has my dick painfully throbbing. I admire her boldness—her insane bravery. That shred of craziness is closely matched with mine.
Most men shy away from confronting a guy like me. They know the consequences. They understand respect. Those who cross me die.
When I drop the clothes and give her an eyeful of my solid dick, she takes a quick sip of steamy air as her pretty cheeks blush to a fuckable shade of pink. Her eyes dart from my hard-on to the wall tiles. It’s that reaction that fires up my feral cylinders and reminds me that I can claim her virginity as mine.
In fact, knowing I’ll be the only man to take it turns me on beyond crazy. I’ll earn two titles on this fucked up day. Leader of my kingdom and master of her virtue.
“You think you can take me on?” I step into her, bringing the bite of cold steel to my naked pec.
“I’m the one holding the gun, Tomás.” She actually fucking smirks and a wisp of something warm whispers around my icy heart.
Instead of grabbing the weapon, I widen my stance and fold my arms. I’ll play her foolish game on my own terms.
“You won’t shoot me.” I sneer, the desire for bloodshed completely erased. I need something far more rewarding.
“Try me.” Her mouth contorts to an evil snarl, but the bloodied hand holding my gun trembles enough for us both to see it. “You think I won’t protect myself? That I’ll let you torture me for whatever perversion you need satisfied.” Her eyebrow hitches as my dick pulses. “I’ll shoot you alright, Tomás Souza. I’m not scared of you.”
I laugh darkly. “Then do it. Shoot me. I fucking dare you to pull the trigger. It’s easy. Just count to three and squeeze.” She swallows a gulp, but keeps her arm raised. “Before you kill me and meet your own certain death outside this room, why don’t you honor me with one last request?”
“Oh yeah?” She scoffs. “And what’s that? Suck your dick again?”
My pulse quickens. It takes all of my training to stay grounded and not slam her elegant body into the wall.
Her game. My rules. One winner.
“Confess,” I growl. “Tell me who wanted my father dead and where you stashed the weapon.”
She scowls. “Do youstillthink I tried to kill him?”
“I do.”
“Christ…” Her delicate shoulders fall and she shakes her head gently. “The only interaction I had with Elias was pressing my hand over his neck… to stop the bleeding. Then you arrived seconds later.” I’d forgotten how charming that sweet voice of hers was, and how it made my scalp tingle. “I should have run away and left him there, but all I could think about was how he was your father.”
I take a confident step so her elbow bends and the gun prods in deeper. “And that’s your final admission before you shoot me. You were trying to save the man who wanted you dead for a debt you owed me?”
Her face pales and she scrunches up her forehead as if thinking of the truth a bit harder. “Not a debt…”
“Then what?”
She stamps her foot and growls. “Does it matter?”
“I guess not. Go ahead. Pull the trigger.” I goad, my patience thinner than a sheet of ice marbled in cracks.