Page 1 of Brutal Unionn
PROLOGUE
NADIA
"Is that all you've got?"I murmur, tilting my head as Sho's chest rises and falls, sweat gleaming across every carved line of his body. He laughs, breathless but cocky, his moss-green eyes catching the low light as though daring me closer.
"Hime, don't think so little of me," he says, his voice rough but steady. "We're just getting started."
I chuckle, my eyes following the slow decline of a bead of sweat snaking through his abs right to the edge of his black, skin-tight boxer briefs. God, he looks devastating like this—his shirt hanging open, exposing the expanse of his olive chest. His hair falls loose in waves that ruin the slick style he'd perfected hours ago. If it weren't for the fact he nearly destroyed my family, I might admit out loud that Sho Matsumoto is the most gorgeous man I've ever had the misfortune to toy with.
This man has not a four or six pack, but a fucking eight pack with V-line so defined my mouth just waters as I imagine licking each sharp ridge of muscle.
"Sho, baby," I whisper, picking up my favorite instrument, a thin blade so sharp it could cut through paper with ease. "I want to carve my name into you."
His lips curl into a lazy smile that might make my knees buckle, if not for the way he rolls his shoulders back, despite his wrists being cuffed behind the chair. He leans back with his legs spread, a glint of dark amusement in his eyes.
"Careful," he rasps, his voice low and sinful. "Keep looking at me like that,Hime, and you'll forget I'm your enemy."
"I haven't even taken you on a date," he muses. "And already you want to claim me Mrs. Matsumoto."
"Mmm, I like the sound of that," I tease, poking my index finger at the tip of my blade as I skip closer to Sho. I lean forward, placing one hand firmly on his thigh. "Don't you?"
"Absolutely darling," he strains through the pressure of my nails pressing into his thigh.
A wicked smile curls my lips as I press the blade against the sharp line of his collarbone, just enough to tease, to feel the way his body tenses beneath me. His breath shudders, not in fear, but something far more delicious.
"Tell me, Sho," I murmur, dragging the tip of my knife down the center of his chest, tracing each sculpted ridge of muscle. "Was it worth it? Turning on me?"
His eyes smolder with amusement, his jaw tightening as he exhales slowly. "I never turned on you, Hime. You just don't like the way I played the game."
I laugh softly, leaning in until my lips hover over his. His scent—sweat, and something uniquely him—makes my head spin. I shouldn't enjoy this, but fuck, I do.
"You almost killed Gwen." I pout, drawing lines along his Greek god chest.
He tilts his head, his grin dark and knowing. "But I didn't. And you're still here, straddling me, looking at me like you want to do things that would make even your brother blush."
I drag my blade lower, slipping just beneath the waistband of his jeans. His abs flex, his breath hitching for the first time. A small victory.
"I could cut you here," I whisper, my free hand trailing down the inside of his thigh. "Make you beg."
Sho chuckles, but it's ragged now, his pupils blown wide. "Beg for what, Hime? More? Less?" He shifts slightly, his legs spreading wider, inviting. "Because if you're trying to break me, you're going to have to do better than that."
I press the blade harder, just enough to break the skin, a thin line of crimson blooming against tan flesh. His lips part, a sharp inhale escaping, but his gaze never wavers.
"Who said I wanted to break you?" I murmur, my mouth so close to his ear he can feel the heat of my breath.
His groan is low, almost a growl. "Don't you break all your toys?"
"Only my favorite ones," I purr along the curve of his throat before pressing my knife against his inner thigh, just enough to draw the faintest line of red. He lets out a choked moan, almost like he had been holding his breath and a moan escapes my throat as he inhales sharply at the shallow cut, and fuck it's goddamn music to my ears. "Ugh, keep making noises like that and I may have to keep you alive."
I squat between his legs, the imprint of his cock pressing through his black boxers and trail my fingertips over the curve of his impressive member. He twitches under my finger, and I lick my lips at the sensation, because there is no way he is small. He feels thick, warm and so close to mine right under my fingertips.
A cough turned laugh peppers over my skin from his lips making me look up at him through my eyelashes.
"Fuck, Hime," he curses. "Don't look at me like that."
"Or what?" My breath catches, a hitch in my throat that betrays me for the briefest second.
"I'll have your ass over my knee, and you'll be begging."
