After he’s lubricated himself as well, he places the tip of his cock against my hole, and pushes in a bit. I expect it to hurt. It does slightly. But it’s the pressure that has me catching my breath. “Relax, sweetness,” he whispers against my ear. He drops his head and nibbles on my neck as he continues to work himself in. One push, two, and he waits, giving me time to accommodate him before, in one powerful thrust, he enters me. I cry out, not from pain but from the intense fullness. And as he begins to pump, his shaft sliding in and out of me easily with the lube, I begin to feel him everywhere. Every cell, every nerve is impacted as he fucks me. “It’s so fucking tight,” Nathan groans. “You feel so good, Natalia . So fucking good.” I’m so sensitive that when he swells just a bit more, he might as well be adding inches to his girth. My moans grow with my arousal, and when he reaches between my legs and cups my pussy, applying pressure to my clit with the heel of his hand, I com
I chuckle as I peer into her brilliant blues. “I know patience very well. You, on the other hand, probably can’t even spell the word.” “Yes, I can. F-U-C-K-M-E-N-O-W.” I arch a brow. “Is that how you spell it?” “It doesn’t matter. It’s what I want. Will you give it to me?” “Gladly.” I bury my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin a moment before I lick it. Natalia moans and writhes beneath me. “Nathan , I need you inside me.” Shit. Her words travel straight to my cock, and I go hard as steel within seconds. I need to be inside her too. Desperately. Just then, her phone, which is sitting on the coffee table, rings. It’s the same tone that’s come in several times since she arrived. One I now recognize and resent. I lift my head to glare at it. “Ignore him,” Natalia says. “I already texted him. He’s just mad I took the tracker off, and he wants to know where I am.” I look at her, stunned. A fucking tracker. It hadn’t occurred to me that she might be
But it was her. She’s the one who sent my father to the grave.Taking a life is never easy, even when death is deserved. Throughout the years, I’ve learned that in order to get the job done, I have to detach any and all emotions from what I’m doing. Force myself to move automatically. Instinctually. With her, it can be no different.From a hidden sheath on the underside of the coffee table, I pull the six-inch blade. Holding it firmly in my fist, I slowly stalk past the bedroom to the bath. Thick swirls of steam waft from the shower and surround me in the delicate scent of her soap.I can easily see her through the glass door. She’s facing away from me, scrubbing her arms with the pink poof she purchased at the drugstore the other night. Water drips from her fiery curls and streams over her silken skin. Skin I caressed and licked. Worshiped.For the first time since my first kill, I hesitate. Then she turns and her bright-blue eyes light up and she smiles. She smiles because she can’t
He was here and didn’t wake me? Disappointed, I sag against the cabinet. But for the gentle hum of the refrigerator, the loft is quiet.I look at my watch. It’s six. Part of me wants to call him. Ask him why the hell he didn’t wake me and tell me he’d be leaving again. Then I remember he has no reason to do so. He’s made no commitments to me.My stomach growls and I realize I didn’t have dinner last night. I go in search of something to eat. In the pantry, I find the box of granola cereal he bought just for me and serve myself a bowl.Food in hand, I move to peer out one of the large windows at the city below. A window washer is out there, hard at work, hanging on a Bonsun’s chair.Ottis, reads the embroidered name on his gray uniform. I tap my spoon against the spot in front of him. He makes no sign of hearing it. The glass must be pretty thick, because as busy as the street seems, with bumper-to-bumper traffic, pedestrians, and packed shops, none of the sound reaches the tenth floor.
Fuck!” I snatch back my hands and cradle my injured digit to my chest. It throbs, the pain seeming to shoot all the way down to my toes.But I don’t nurse it for more than a few seconds. Time is of the essence.There’s another door beside the elevator, which I assume leads to the fire escape. But I can do no more than rattle the handle because it’s locked.Next, I attempt the one that leads to the roof deck. Surely there’s a fire escape from up there. But it, too, is locked now.I whirl, looking around wildly, searching for another way out. Then I run around trying every door I suspect is an exit. All locked.For a moment, I can’t catch my breath. Every muscle in my body is threatening to shut down, leaving me weak and trembling. If Nathan returns to find me like this, he’ll know that I know who he is.What will he do to me then? I guess that depends on why he has me here in the first place. If I have to guess, he knows his father came to see me that night.Suddenly, a little bout of
God. How could I have missed it? Now that he’s standing here in front of me, all darkness and ruthless power, his real name blaring in my head, I can clearly see it. What I’d mistaken for sadness and pain is nothing more than the dangerous aura thrown off by a man born from a merciless world. A member of the deadly Robertson family. “You were taking a nap?” He moves toward the couch, bending over me, his eyes boring into mine as he leans in for a kiss.He tastes different now that I know who he is. Or maybe he’s always tasted like this, but it’s only now that I’m realizing exactly what’s slithering across my tongue. Lethal ruthlessness. And to my utter shame, my body responds to it even more powerfully than it did before.I inhale his scent, moaning as he deepens the kiss, following him upward hypnotically when he breaks it.As if he’s just now noticing, he turns abruptly to the window washer. His eyes narrow, then he looks down at me.“Come,” he says, gripping my wrist and tugging
I had my father’s killer under my nose the entire time. How could I have made such a huge mistake as to assume it had been Morrison ? Why did I allow so much time to pass?I could have followed them to Europe. Could have ended it all within days.However, the moment I saw Natalia , I made up my mind to draw it out because I wanted her. So I avoided anything that could jeopardize my chance.I should just killhimand be done with it. Letherlive. No one would know.Only, that’s not true.Iwould know Morrison is innocent. I’ll have spilled his blood all because why? Because I want her? Because I’ve grown obsessed with her?Because I can’t stand the idea of never seeing her alive and happy and brilliant again?John knows too. If he were to ever speak about it to anyone, I’d be the one seen as the traitor who let a Robertson family member’s murderer go.Natalia turns her head slightly so that her profile comes into view. “Are you going to kill me?”“I haven’t decided what your punishment will
I flip it open and freeze, focused intensely on the drawing of a pair of eyes.Myeyes. Only, they’re not the way I’m accustomed to seeing them. They have the same shape, same dark spots on the irises. There’s a deep crease between them. But in the drawing, they’re slightly upturned and crinkled at the edges, and there’s a slight gleam to them, as if I’m smiling.Because I was.Several times, she called my name, grinning so widely when I looked at her that I couldn’t help but smile. She captured those moments.Does light penetrate shadows, or do the shadows drown out the light?I asked that question not long ago. The answer is both. She’s managed to light up my eyes while I’ve filled hers with darkness.Blowing out a breath full of exhaustion, I set the sketch aside. Tired, I shut my lids and must drift off instantly, because a bolt of lightning that rumbles even through the sound barriers I’ve erected around the loft wakes me. Instantly, I glance at the door.Though she has access to w