Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I smile at his words as we start walking. Reon checks to ensure no one else witnesses us leaving the alley, and we stay out of the lighted areas as we make our way up the hill to his apartment building. He makes a few calls, and I hear him asking someone to wipe any evidence of him out tonight. Neither of us says a word until we reach the elevator.
“What do you plan to do with the knife?” I ask as we step out of the elevator, and he unlocks the door. With the door closed and locked behind us, he goes to the kitchen, opens the dishwasher, places the knife inside, and starts it before he turns to me.
“Give me your clothes,” he orders.
“That’s not the nicest way to ask me to get naked, but okay.” I remove my clothing as he instructs before moving to the living room fireplace. He starts it up, and the fire flickers. When it’s fully alight, he tears off his clothes and throws them in. Then he strides over to me and reaches for mine. When he turns around, I see that his back is fully inked, featuring a woman with rosary beads in her hands and fire licking all around her.
I knew he had tattoos—the ones on his fingers are perfectly visible—but I didn’t realize his whole back is covered.
He throws my clothes onto the flames, and when he turns to look back at me, I smile at him.
“Do you do that often?” I ask. His gaze fixes on me, dark and penetrating, as if he can see me to my core. He’s naked and foreboding, seemingly carved from granite or marble, like a Greek statue brought to life. His tattoos are stark on his body as the flames of the fire flicker across his golden skin. He’s devilish, dangerous, and observant. The silence stretches to breaking point until he finally speaks.
“Remember how we spoke about my favorite things to do?” I nod. His gaze takes in all of me. I can feel it scorching my bare skin. “It’s my favorite thing to do.”
My heart skips a beat at his response. Everyone in my world has seen me differently and never understood me. And yet, here is this man, standing in front of me, someone who might finally understand me, who would potentially relish in the thoughts that cross my mind and not try to lock me in a box.
I see him now, and it excites me even more.
“But why? Why would someone like you…” I wave a hand at him, so perfect, so successful.
“Someone like me?” he asks as he raises a brow and stalks closer to me. “What is someone like me? You saw a suit and a plane and presumed what?”
“You seem so normal, with your business trips, perfectly styled hair, and your ex-girlfriend’s sister-in-law.”
He licks his lips, offering a shallow shrug and barely perceptible smile. “Define normal? And, yes, I live a regular life, but I also take lives.”
My hands fist at my sides. “So, why?” Taking a deep breath, I open them.
“Did you enjoy it?” he asks. “Did you enjoy when you pulled that knife out of that lowlife, or was it the high of the possibility you might get killed? Which one, Caterpillar?”
He reaches me, his hand moving to touch between my legs, and I think back to the noise when I extracted that knife, the whoosh sound of blood streaming out, the cold hilt of the blade in my hands. My breathing grows heavier, and wetness gathers between my legs as my chest rises and falls faster.
“The knife,” I breathe.
“I presumed as much. You have this twinkle in your pretty chocolate eyes that tells me so. You see, you are a bad, bad girl, Caterpillar, pretending to be a good girl. But do you know what we do to good girls?”
I shake my head as his fingers slide up to my pussy.
“We break them.” I gasp as he spins me to face away from him. His hands slide into my hair and grip tightly. He pulls my head back so fast that my neck smashes into his shoulder. My nipples harden at the sharp contact, and the feel of his hardness against my ass does nothing to allay the feelings of want. “Do you want me to break you, Caterpillar?”
“Please,” I beg, and he pulls me closer before he pushes me away.
“Get on your knees,” he commands like no other person before him. My willingness to obey him is stronger than I have ever felt before.
I do as he says, lowering to my knees, the floor hard beneath them. When I tilt my head, I find his amber eyes already on mine.
“Do not move.” He steps out of my line of sight, and I hear a rustling sound. When he returns, he ties something around my wrists, then pushes me forward, catching me by the hair to prevent me from falling face-first. The hold he has on my hair is painful, but I stay silent.