Page 1 of Soulless Deeds

I

Spencer

Her tongue slicked against mine, the soft, supple pressure sparking heat to my centre. I caught her roaming fingers with my own, pulling back to stare into her intoxicating, lust-filled eyes.

Direct, straight forward, no room for misinterpretation.

I squeezed her hand gently. “It isn’t you, it’s me.” I internally cringed at the cheesy line, but I wasn’t blessed with tact. She ignored me, pushing closer to catch my lips once more, grasping my nipple with her deft fingertipsjust the way I like.

Sudo’s attempt to seduce me into submission was a solid plan, but she didn’t know I was the master of manipulation. When I made up my mind,I made up my fucking mind.

Retreating out of reach, her hands fell limp, ringmaster costume jacket opening a sliver to give me a clear view of her puckered nipples and dripping centre. So inviting, yet if I stole one last taste, my departure would only be harder on her.

Sudo’s pleading eyes lined with tears, expression distraught. “Please stay. We can keep this casual. I take what I said back. I didn’t mean it.”

I tucked a loose strand of shining black hair behind her ear. “Youdidmean it. I warned you from the beginning not to get attached. We’re over, darling.”

As I steered for the door, her despair turned to anger, her plea desperate. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You lying piece of shit.”

My step faltered. I was no liar. Actually prided myself on being transparent, almost brutally so. My sisters described me as overly emotional and chaotic. The word they were missing wasreal.I was always true to myself.Always.

None of that fake shit. I wasn’t about to dull my shine for others to swallow me down easier. They either handled me—all of me—or got the fuck out of the way.

I spun, scanning her narrowed eyes, her features warped into an impressive sneer. Another person who thought they could twist my words and give them whatever meaning they saw fit.

I flicked my hair over my shoulder. “You know when I said it wasn’t you? Well…itisyou. From the first, I warned you not to expect anything from me other than a paycheck. I’m no liar, darling. You’re lying to yourself.”

With her mouth agape, I departed—well, tried to. As my hand reached the handle, I heard a curse from behind, shortly followed by a whoosh. I ducked. A red stiletto thumped against the door where my head was a second before.

Crazy bitch.

With a shake of my head, I made my exit, slammed the door behind me and never looked back.

And there we have it, folks, another scorned lover… If only I cared.

Sudo was a pawn in my infiltration mission, a valuable source of intel as well as a good fuck. She had adequately met both needs and was paid handsomely for the trouble. Not that I ever left her physically unsatisfied.

Sudo was known as Ringmaster, the madam of Playhouse—an exclusive club full of lustful sin and desire. A debaucherous maze that catered to every kink, each room tailored to specific needs involving flesh, sex and guaranteed ecstasy. Playhouse was the epicentre of Serpents Row, the red light district of Junction City, the streets owned and run by the illustrious underground organisation called Vice. Which was why I was there.

I was genetically coded for undercover operations, my DNA alone the single tool I required to achieve my goals. Of which I only had one.

Soul-destroying revenge.

Ten percent of the general population were blessed with a Variant—essentially humans with superpowers. And I was one of them. Even amongst our own, my ability was considered elite. Being able to change my appearance at will meant I had countless possibilities at my disposal. Without my Variant, I was already a goddamn queen, but with it, I was a fucking twenty-year-old goddess amongst men. And I fully took advantage.

Sucks to suck.

I weaved through the glossy black corridors with a whistle on my tongue. The sporadic chandeliers cast sensual shadows to dance along the walls, showcasing the priceless art and tapestries hung throughout, all displaying different sexual positions that were quite frankly complicated if not impossible to coordinate.Trust me—I tried.

Despite the allure, the atmosphere had grown stale. The circus ringmaster with the magical mouth had brought my experience to an end with her unrealistic demands, transforming our transactional relationship into candy floss and rainbows. If that’s what I wanted, I wouldn’t have gone there.

In my reverie, I unconsciously took a wrong turn, arriving at a dead end with a shining black door. Before I could backtrack,a painful grunt echoed through the thick wood—two male voices conversing or arguing, I couldn’t tell.

“I said the safe word.”Whack.“Oh, god.”

“Safe word? I’m paying for a service, and I plan to get my money’s worth.”

Is this some degrading kink? What the fuck did I walk into?

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