Page 23 of My Violent Valentine

I bite my lip to stop the million questions tumbling through my mind. There is nothing to chain him up with, and it isn’t like the pumpkin patch on Halloween. This is… different.

“Be very very still,” he says. Then he proceeds to cut the leather pants off my body. He slits down the seams with surgical precision and rips them off.

“I liked those pants,” I pout.

“I like them on the floor where they are,” he snarls. “Now step out.”

I don’t protest that we could have just taken the pants off—probably much more easily—but I think he wants the boots on, and nothing kills a sexy vibe quicker than having to take off boots before pants.

He helps me step out of the destroyed leather and turns me to face him. The only thing left on me is my collar and black high-heeled boots. My chest rises and falls, and his gaze goes to my bare breasts. His pupils are dilated like a hungry animal, and I have never felt more strongly like another being was weighing whether he should fuck me or eat me than in this moment.

And I’ve never questioned my sanity more over why the fuck that turns me on.

“Stay,” he says.

I don’t move an inch as he goes to my suitcase and starts rifling through the contents. Finally, he comes back with a large hair elastic.

“Put your hair up.”

I take the hair band from him, and obey his order. His hands aren’t shaking anymore. Whatever he was experiencing during the drive over here has shifted to something else. A wild, yet controlled intent. And it’s only now that I realize just how truly steady his hands were only moments ago when he was cutting the leather off my body.

He takes a few steps back and sits on the bed, his gaze moving slowly over me. I want to speak so badly right now, but I know if I say anything, he won’t answer me, and I’ll break this moment. I want to ask if he wants me to do anything. I can’t strip, there’s nothing left to take off. All I can do is stand here, bare under his ruthless gaze, and wait.

How long is he going to keep me in this limbo? How long is he going to stare at me like this? The space between my legs burns and pulsates with desperation. I need him to touch me.

Finally, he rises from the bed and pulls his black T-shirt over his head, then the Kevlar. And then I get that stunning view of sleek compact muscles and washboard abs.

Here we are: two killers, stripped down, covered in so much fucking evidence.

He steps closer, still wearing his pants. His hand hooks around my waist and he pulls me flush against him until I could almost ride his erection like this. I could almost get off if he’d just let me rub against him.

“Mina, I’m going to fuck you now. And you’re going to lie sweetly beneath me and take every inch like the good girl you are.”

“Okay,” is all I can say. It’s barely more than a breathy sigh.

And then his mouth is on mine again, his hand at the back of my neck as he seeks to devour me. He maneuvers us to the bed and gently lays me down in the middle. He unbuttons his pants and then a moment later, he pushes his thick rigid cock into me.

I let out a gasp as he seats himself fully inside me, and then his mouth is at my throat again, kissing and licking as he slowly moves. I can barely believe he’s… making love to me?

Like normal human coupling. No whips or chains. No me having to tie him up so he doesn’t get out of hand. No crazed violent fucking, just slow, gentle lovemaking. My brain might be short circuiting right now.

I whimper when his hand trails between my legs to stroke the swollen bud that has been hungry for his touch for this long eternity he’s made me wait. I move with him, my back arching, my moans and panting growing louder.

“Yes, Killer, just like that, come for me sweet girl.”

And then I do.

He groans as my muscles contract around his cock, and then when he can’t hold back anymore he spills inside me, his own pleasure mingling with mine.

Our eyes are locked. I don’t want to break this silent intimacy. He stays inside me until he goes soft, then he pulls out and leans against the headboard. He holds me against him, his breath coming out in harsh pants.

“Brian?” I finally say.

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.”

He just chuckles. “There was an all night diner a few miles up the road. We’ll get cleaned up and grab something.”

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