Page 13 of Rising from the Ashes

“Maybe.”

With that, she turns on her heels and walks into her room, shutting the door in my face.

Walking to my room three doors down the hallway, I twist the knob and enter the sleeping quarters. Each of us has a designated room at headquarters if we need to stay here, but it’s not a requirement. Equipped with a queen sized bed, an end table, both decorated with this creepy victorian style vibe.

Pulling my pants and boxers off, I sit on the edge of my bed. A weight of relief leaves my body as I sink into the mattress.

He’s gone.

Fourteen years ago, my father was involved in one of the most catastrophic events Raventown had ever seen. I knew he was not a good man, but I never knew he could be capable of murdering innocent people in cold blood. I didn’t find out about it until years later when I enlisted in the Army, working in the Special Forces. I came across my father’s name in some confidential files that pointed me into the direction of the incident. When I did more digging, I found out that he was linked to Drake’s father, Dante Reign. They made up half of the organization known as the Fourth Circle. The same organization that was responsible for the attack on Raventown that killed three hundred and eighty three people.

Before I was dishonorably discharged, I wiped my last name from any government files for the fear that it would connect me with my father. I wanted to escape his name and his reputation.

Then I sought out Drake in an attempt to gather more information.

After a series of events, I ended up working with him. What I didn’t realize is that I would be working with The Dragon. The vigilante who emerged months later after the attacks, trying to avenge the souls that were lost that night.

Stretching out my neck in slow circles, I attempt to ease the tension in my shoulders.

My mind wanders to the feisty woman down the hallway. The females of the organization have their own showers in their quarters. I close my eyes, imagining her washing off the blood that is caked onto her breasts, wishing I could be buried inside her. Torturing and killing may turn her on, but the way I pissed her off has me riled up.

My dick must have the same thoughts because all of the blood is draining from my brain, convoluting my thoughts.

You can’t get involved with this girl. She’s a job.

Spitting into the palm of my hand, I slowly begin to stroke my cock, feeling the thick veins beneath my fingers. Imagining the way she must feel, the delicate sounds that would escape her lips as she screams for me, causes my dick to swell in my hand. Trying to stave off my orgasm a little longer, I squeeze the base, applying just enough pressure for the sensation to subside before I begin my languid strokes once again.

My climax again begins to build and I force myself to stop.

No. This needs to happen only one way.

Groaning, I stand up and swipe the gray sweatpants off the foot of my bed. Pulling them on, I adjust my dick so that it's hidden while I quietly tiptoe down the hallway toward my destination.

I stand outside her room, staring at the door, knowing I will regret this decision, but my aching dick doesn’t give a fuck.

Suddenly, I hear the tiniest moan come from behind her door. Agitation rolls through me as the hair on my neck stands up at the thought of someone else being inside her.

Twisting the door knob, I quietly turn it and push the door open. When I walk in, my eyes revel at the view before me. Calista is facing the headboard, her dark hair trailing down her back, still wet from the shower. The plush white comforter is wrapped around her lower back just above her ass, and she is grinding her hips into the mattress.

She tilts her head back and lets out another moan as one hand reaches in front of her, its destination unknown to me.

My dick begins to throb as if her body is beckoning to it like a fucking beacon.

I clamber quietly closer to the bed. When I reach the side of the bed, I can hear the buzzing of the bright pink toy underneath her. One end is plunged inside her while the other is attached to her clit. Her eyes are still closed as she grinds relentlessly into the toy, desperately chasing her orgasm. The crinkle in her eyebrows tells me she is as frustrated as I am.

Opening her eyes, she notices me standing at the side of her bed, gazing down at her. She slows her pace but doesn’t stop her movements.

“What the fuck do you want?” She’s breathless, but the edge of her voice is laced with agitation.

“Seems like we need each other again,” I smirk. My hard dick shamelessly no longer camouflaged by the sweatpants.

“I don’t need you, suga.” She hums as her body writhes against the toy.

Leaning over, I grip her chin forcefully, my thumb invading her lips and locking around her jaw. I whip her head toward me so our eyes lock.

“You needed me tonight,” I say as I run my thumb across her soft plump lips.

“I did not,” she says defiantly.

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