Page 67 of Faithless
Rori scoffed in response to my silence. “That’s what I thought.” She then moved coldly past me to the door and left.
24
SANTOS
Two private sessions with guests in one day was always exhausting, mentally and physically. Especially when the day began with one of the guests I hated most, an heiress named Blair who believed the whole world should kneel at her feet. The only thing that made it bearable was knowing my day would end with Aurora.
On both occasions, my time with Rori had passed too fucking quickly. An hour with her felt like five damn minutes. Whereas an hour with Blair felt like a year.
Holding Rori’s hand toward the end of our last session felt more intimate than any of the sex I’d had in the last four years. When the time came, I never wanted to let her go.
“How soon can I see you again?” she’d asked immediately.
That question and the eagerness in her voice made my chest swell so much, it felt like I’d swallowed a balloon. “I should be free tomorrow evening,” I’d told her. “Book me as soon as you’re out of here.”
“I will.” When our hands separated, it felt like she took a piece of me with her.
My routine was the same this morning—shower, shave, a spritz of fragrance. But every motion felt like swimming through mud. I didn’t want to be here. Hell, I never wanted to be here untilher. But right then, I would have traded anything to not do this appointment. My lack of choice in this matter had never felt so painfully apparent until now.
I walked out into the room with boulders in my stomach and cement blocks on my feet. My smile at the morning guest felt like the corners of my mouth were being pulled apart by fish hooks. “Good morning, Blair.”
“Butcher,” she crooned, assuming what must have been a seductive pose, one foot on the floor with the other propped up on the back of the couch. “I’ve been waiting for you to come split me apart.”
The gown Blair wore was some sheer lacy material, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her chest was so augmented, her breasts looked like flotation devices. I knew every cosmetic surgery scar she tried to hide with body paint and fake tanner, because she had come to see me many times before. Blair had two obsessions: looking as physically perfect as possible, and rough, if even dangerous, sex.
There was a time when I almost felt sorry for her. What happened in this woman’s life to make her reach for an unobtainable, idealized version of herself, while craving such degradation in the bedroom? She never even wanted aftercare. She only ever wanted me to be as brutal to her on this couch as I was out on the sands. If I’d been allowed to bring my machetes in here, she’d probably be thrilled.
That desire for the rough stuff was shared by nearly all of the guests I serviced, to varying degrees. They wanted the fantasy of the Butcher, to flirt with danger and experience my persona like an amusement park ride. Wild, thrilling, heart-pounding, but ultimately, completely safe.
Only Rori wanted the real me. Santos Antonio Jimenez.
I tried to swallow at Blair’s spread open display, but no moisture remained in my throat. “Something to drink before we begin?” I turned to the minibar, blatantly stalling. Fuck, I really didn’t want to do this. Not when I had to face Rori right afterward.
Why I felt some strange sense of loyalty to her, I had no idea. We’d spent a total of two hours together, nowhere near enough to form any kind of bond. But damn if those two hours weren’t the best time I had in years. Maybe my perspective was all fucked. I’d been in this shithole so long that I latched onto the first pretty woman who talked to me like I was a fellow human being.
But Tezca told me to trust her, and she had a companion god too. No matter how logically I tried to look at it, we had simply been destined to meet. To what end, I didn’t know. But right then, every cell in my body revolted at the woman currently lying on the couch, and wished it was Rori instead.
“The only thing I want to drink is your cum,” Blair crooned from the couch. “I want you to make me choke on it like last time.”
I made some kind of dismissive noise while pretending to be busy at the minibar. She liked it when I was mean to her, so I could keep stalling and denying her a bit longer. My dick was not excited in the least, though. Fuck, I should’ve popped one of those erection pills this morning. I could not imagine getting through this any other way.
“Hurry, Daddy,” she whined. “I need you to fuck me until I bleed.”
I had just swallowed a shot of the same whiskey Rori and I had shared yesterday and nearly threw it back up when I heard that. “I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready,” I said, adding a hard tone to my voice.
The truth was, the hardcore domination stuff had never appealed to me. It didn’t matter who it was with. I was a brutal, relentless fighter by necessity, not because being violent turned me on. But that was all these people wanted, and I was so beyond fucking sick of playing that act.
Before falling asleep last night, I got turned on by the thought of resting my head in Rori’s lap. I imagined her scratching my head like we’d joked about, running those nails over my neck and back.
And I hadn’t been joking about being happy to serve her. I wanted to earn her head scratches, her smiles, her approval. Hell, maybe even her love. Because I already knew I could trust her. Iknewshe wouldn’t exploit or abuse me like I had been for nearly half my life. And that only made me want to worship her even more.
God, if a woman like that could actually love me? That kind of happiness didn’t seem possible.
“Butcher,” Blair barked from the couch. “You are wasting my time and my money. I pay for you to use your cock, not stand around with it in your hand.”
I whipped around and launched myself at her, making the couch rock from the weight of my impact. Blair wore dark blue contacts today with little swirly golden designs in the irises. Those eyes flashed with fear as I straddled her, bringing one hand to her throat. She moaned, and I squeezed harder, which only made her writhe underneath me. If I felt between her legs, I knew she’d be wet.
“I’ll use my cock on you,” I growled, rubbing the soft organ with my free hand. “I’ll use it in all your filthy holes until you’re screaming for me stop, and then I’ll fuck you even harder. Is that what you want?”
