Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“No bloody excuse, mate.” I bashed his face. A flood of emotion rushed through my body. In this moment, I was alive.
If I could, I would have killed him again. Killed him slow and meticulously.
The assignments increased after that. The hand-to-hand combat that I enjoyed in the beginning gradually stopped satisfying my need. It no longer made me feel alive. The more I murdered, the less and less I felt any emotion at all.
Then the opposite happened. Two years into my membership, before I fully lost the feeling of emotion during those murders, I switched up my stance.
I became my father.
Like Silas, I had a fetish. The dynamics of murder replaced the pain of a loss so new, so fresh that it cut like a blade to my heart. I targeted another sniper, Jackson, and stole the lad’s assignments whenever possible.
As a marksman, just the thought of killing consumed my days. I relished the distance and time as it pertained to death.
Then I crossed paths with Luxury Whitson. She was from a different bloody galaxy. There was a hopelessness about her as if those black roses she rushed to save meant the world to her. I didn’t know her story, but she was a beauty with a broken spirit.
My high hopes of relieving her of such treacheries of heartbreak were dashed. However, I still believe in us. After all, she agreed to be mine.
5
Luxury
His.
I had given myself to him, and apparently, my spoken vow extended to nights—even the ones without him. Victor succeeded at replacing the nightmares—the tossing, turning, screaming—into moments of involuntary ecstasy.
For the past few weeks, I’ve trained my mind not to contemplate Victor. Chased him away with busy work, such as meeting with potential buyers and revamping the essay I wrote for NYU to accommodate the requests for the university in Florida. My scolding looks dared Dad and Aliyah to try me during the day. Yet, in my dreams, my allegiance to Victor returns with a vengeance.
Victor sits on a black leather chair in a room with black walls. A black tuxedo gives him a taunting yet sexy persona. I’m in the white cotton camisole and short set I wore to bed. I’m at his feet on the black, glossy floor. The glare of his crystal blue eyes sends fear down my spine. His anger is evident in the way he dominates the chair. He’s mad at me for telling him never to call, never come by.
“I’ve memorized your lips and the way your mouth has wrapped itself around my cock,” he tells me. Everything about his demeanor warns me not to move. Though I’m on my knees, I dare not touch him or desire the taste of his cum in my mouth.
My pulse leaps. Shivers shallow out my breathing as Victor captures me beneath a dark gaze. He leans forward in his chair. “Do not even think unless I tell you to.”
God, I just wish he would touch me. Hands stroking my flesh in a vow of forgiveness. Lips brushing every curve of my body as a decree of clemency. Alright, that’s madness. Me allowing Victor’s sex to become my atonement, but he became my obsession, and bad habits can be lethal.
“You never want to see me again?” he taunts. I open my mouth to utter the word, “No,” to voice my love for him, but I’m speechless. Tongue knotted.
Victor’s fingertips caress my tresses only to grab the hair at the crown of my head, and my body slides toward him. I lay my head on his lap. My mouth waters with the sound of his zipper descending. Gulping back saliva, I patiently wait for Victor to allow me to suck him deep down into my throat. His hand moves from my hair, around my neck, lifting my face until a flush of heated embarrassment crawls over my freckled cheeks. I avert my eyes from his.
“Look at me.”
Compliant, my gaze snaps toward a tropical storm.
“As I’ve said before, and have had to remind you yet again, Little One.” His cold mask fades, revealing a glimmer of possessiveness. “You will forever be mine. Are you prepared to beg forgiveness?”
Fire explodes in my core, consuming the lonely ache between my thighs. “Yes, please.”
Although he’s sinned against me in our reality, my lips wrap around Victor’s cockhead in a quest for absolution. Victor’s anger subsides at each stroke of my tongue up and down his shaft. My channel rains as I alternate from licking powerful veins, which give life to a thick, long erection, to sucking. My worry of his rage begins to lessen.
“Look at me while your lovely lips are wrapped around my cock.” Victor’s icy tone sends chills dancing over my spine.
Beneath a spray of lashes, my gander finds a pair of broad shoulders under a fitted suit and a piercing gaze that cuts straight through to my soul. My struggle is futile beneath his tightening grip, and damn, I revel in his steel grip, his stiff dick sliding up and down my throat.