Page 45 of Pike’s Redemption

“As if you could talk about freaks. You’re the worst of them all.” Fury twisted inside me, black dotting my vision. “I hope there isn’t an afterlife for you. That there is nothing but a hole of darkness and despair.” I edged closer to him. “That you are alone there for eternity.” Shoving my knife through his belly horizontally, I grunted with the force of the cut, taking pleasure in how he howled and begged.

?

It took ages to scrub off the blood and death from the basement. It ran in rivulets down the drain, and it wasn’t until I was clean that I returned to Natasha’s. She was curled on her side, her hand under her cheek.

I stood there for a moment, just watching her. In the dim light filtering through the curtains, Natasha looked peaceful, almost innocent, like the world hadn't tainted her yet. But I knew better. We both carried scars—hers just weren't as visible. The weight of the night's events pressed on my shoulders, but seeing her like this made it a little easier to bear.

I padded to the edge of the bed, careful not to wake her. The floor creaked under my boots, and she stirred slightly, her brow furrowing as if she sensed my presence even in sleep. I reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Her skin was warm, starkly contrasting the coldness I felt inside.

"Natasha," I whispered, not expecting her to wake up. But she did. Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep before they sharpened with recognition.

"Pike?" Her voice was soft, almost childlike. She pushed herself onto her elbow, concern immediately flooding her features as she took in my disheveled appearance. "What happened? Are you okay?"

I nodded, forcing a smile I knew didn’t reach my eyes. "It's over," I said, though the words felt hollow. "For now."

She sat up fully, pulling the covers around her. "Did you...?" She didn’t need to finish the question.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice gruff. I didn’t want to get into the details. I didn’t want to taint her with more darkness than she already had. "It's done."

Natasha's eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I saw the flicker of something—pity, maybe, or understanding. She didn’t press, and for that, I was grateful.

"Come here," she whispered, shifting to make room for me.

I hesitated, the weight of what I’d just done still clinging to me like a second skin. But the warmth in her eyes, the silent promise of comfort, was too much to resist. I slipped off my boots and crawled into bed beside her.

As soon as I lay down, she curled into me, her head resting on my chest, her hand tracing idle patterns over my heart. The simple gesture was enough to loosen the tightness in my chest and let me breathe a little easier.

“I love you. No matter what,” she whispered, and my heart clenched. She did?

“I love you too, baby. I had no idea I could love anyone, and you walked into that room with those sexy fucking shoes. I was a goner.” I rolled her over, pinning her to the mattress, her mouth open in an ‘O’ of surprise, giving me all sorts of ideas.

She arched up into me, her pelvis grinding against my cock. Suddenly, the night fell away, and all I could think about was her softness and how lucky I was.

“Are you going to give me what I want?” she asked, batting her eyelashes as she pulled off her pajamas, exposing those gorgeous tits.

“I’ll give you everything. I’ll yank it from the sky, strangle it, and put it back if I have to.”

The moonlight fell over her as I set to worshipping them, plucking her nipples to hard points as she writhed beneath me. She ground against my legs, seeking friction, but I didn’t want to rush. I wanted to push my cock between them and come all over her, mark her for my own.

“I’m going to fuck these tits.” Her eyes lit up with interest as I moved up her body and settled higher, careful not to put too much weight on her. I fisted my dick, nearly groaning at the sensation, a spurt of precum leaking from the purple tip. Natasha’s lips so close to my cock made my balls tighten. It would only take a couple of pumps, “Spit.” She looked at me for a minute, squirmed, and spit on my cock. I spread it around with my precum, forcing my eyes to stay open even though the sensation was almost overwhelming. “Push them together,” I ordered. She obeyed instantly.

“I want you to come all over them,” she said breathily.

“I plan on it.” I could hardly wait.

She was a centerfold — reclining on the pillow, her cheeks pink and eyes dilated. God, I was lucky. I slid my cock between her tits, pumping as slow as I could stand, but watching my cock disappear between each globe as her hands clenched them together was either heaven or torture. Her breathing made her chest rise and fall, just enhancing the experience as she flushed all over. Shit, I was a three-pump chump here in this heaven. In a few moments, I was blowing my load all over her breasts, strangling my cock to get the most out of the orgasm, letting come trickle into the hollow of her throat while she looked up at me through hooded eyes. Taking my hand, she rubbed herself with it over her tits, moaning, spreading it around. Raising my fingers to her lips, I inserted two into her mouth, letting her tongue lick them clean.

“Let’s see how you taste now.” Yanking her legs wide, I wedged myself into the apex of her thighs. She had a pretty pussy, pink and glistening. Natasha groaned as I slid two fingers into her and set a bruising pace sucking hard on her clit. I could do this all night. Eating her out was one of my favorite things, and I knew she liked it — that tell-tale tightening of the abs and the fluttering that told me of the onset of an orgasm just before she came. There it was. Delighted, I sat up, wiped my face, and grinned.

“Round two, babe.” Then I slid into her hard.

“Oh god, Pike. Harder.” Well, I could definitely do harder. Wedging one leg onto a shoulder and grinding against her, I picked up the pace, giving her what she asked for until her eyes fluttered back into her head. “Yes, like that. Just like that.” Making sure not to change anything, I kept the pace.

“Give me another one, baby. That’s my girl.” Fuck, she was going to kill me in all the best ways. She flew apart with a cry, gushing over my cock. With a final push, I came, and I wished she wasn’t on birth control. Maybe we could talk about the future. I could convince her to stay with me in this life, or I’d leave it and follow her wherever she wanted. Bratva? I could do that. Right? Russian wasn’t that hard. I didn’t think I could live without her.

I could die now and be happy. I thought later as she collapsed next to me, sticky and exhausted. This was my peace.

EPILOGUE

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