Page 38 of Dirty Tricks

He spins in the opposite direction, whimpering. Face drained of colour. His injured hand clasped to his chest.

Lexa shoves him farther back, giving a come-on gesture to the next boy. “Your turn.”

Each boy reluctantly steps forward, whole bodies trembling, their shrieks drowned out by the roar of the chainsaw. As each falls away, clutching their wounded hands to their chest, their features twist with pain and shock.

“We’re going to let you go,” she calls out when the last one is done. “And if any of you even think of saying a word about what happened here, your DNA is going to turn up places you wish it hadn’t.”

Their blank expressions tell me the message hasn’t landed, so I rev the chainsaw. “Say anything and I’ll come back and finish the job.”

Lexa crouches next to Finn, taking the door key from his pocket. She advances on the group, and they give her space, none of them showing any signs of attack.

When she unlocks the door and throws it open, they shuffle past. Each bowed head whispers a thank you as they pass, followed by footsteps running along the hall.

Alone except for the bodies, I switch the chainsaw to my back and walk over, taking her into my arms and pressing her back against the door to close it. “You’re okay?”

She nods, tugging at my shirt until I lower my head.

Our lips touch and a bolt of pleasure shoots from head to toe. I cup her head so she doesn’t bump it, trying to be gentle with her split lip, her battered face. But need overrides my impulse control and Lexa gives back as good as she gets, fingers curling in my hair, dragging me closer when I try to back away.

“I want you,” she gasps when I come up for breath. Her hand cups my jeans, rubbing me through the thick fabric. “Trap me again. I want to be helpless while you take whatever you need from me.”

But I can’t put her back where those boys put her. I twist her to face the door, my breath hot in her ear as I tug up her kilt, sliding my hand between her legs as her hand reaches behind her to pull my head down to her shoulder.

She tugs me down to bite into the curve of her neck, hearing the sob of release as she bumps her arse back against me, a warning to hurry, her spare hand bracing her against the metal door.

I free myself from my jeans, guiding the head of my cock to where she’s wide and wet and waiting for me. When I sink into her, she moans, turning her head so her cheek rests flat against the cracked and peeling paint. “So good, Xander. You feel so good.”

And my hand goes around her throat, easing her into place so I can suck her earlobe into my mouth, lick from the ball of her shoulder all the way along to her neck, fastening there, grazing my teeth against her tender flesh.

The clenching of her walls around my cock is ecstasy. I’m high off the scent of blood in my nostrils and the heat of her warm cunt and the slippery sounds as I thrust into her, flesh clapping together as I lift her skirt out of the way, one hand delving past the door to cup her pussy, splitting her wide with my fingers until I can arch along her folds, circle her throbbing clit.

She pushes back against me, urging me deeper, so deep I feel lost inside her, drowning in her warm ocean.

Her hand leaves my head, instead taking the hand clenched around her throat and pulling it down to her breasts, encouraging me to squeeze them, caress them, nipples pebbling against my palm, her back arching as I pinch at them, teasing them with my fingertips.

The rush of killing, of cutting, of maiming elevates the thrill that grips me as I plunge in and out of her, our bodies joining in ecstasy, the breath stolen from my lungs as my muscles tense and release with each thrust.

I grab her thigh, lifting it higher, spreading her wider, catapulting forward at her resulting moan, her friction driving me insane, whiting out every thought until all that’s left are the frantic moves of an animal, desperately joyful, full of craving, full of need, even my breath ceasing in the chaotic tumble towards my release.

“Are you ready?” I ask, my fingers finding their own answer as I circle and stroke her clit, draw my finger along her slippery creases, going farther to rub the flesh where my cock pounds into her, increasing the sensation as her muscles clench and hold, squeezing so tight it blinds me.

A gasp catches in my throat, pulse thumping in my ears, all the sounds and sights and senses focused on our connection as her cunt flutters with her imminent orgasm and my last thrust catapults me past the edge, weightless for a split second before I go plummeting to earth, feeling the thrill, the exhilaration as my cock twitches and my cum shoots inside her, the only place it ever wants to call home.

For long moments there’s nothing in the world except Lexa, her spent body sagging, caught between me and the door, my arms stretching around her, holding her safe as my cock slips from her body and I pull her skirt down, modesty exerting its call far too late.

She giggles, palms flat against the door as she tries to find her footing. When she turns, the widest smile lights her bruised face. Her head sags back on her neck like the vertebrae have forgotten how to fit together, eyes staring into mine.

“That was…” and she dissolves into laughter, lifting her arms above her head, then hooking them over my neck, bending me down to kiss her even though the contact makes her wince.

“I love you,” I say and it’s far too early, far too much, but it’s been there since the first moment I laid eyes on her. Not in the room but in the lobby, watching her wait placidly behind the monster who fathered her. My eyes drawn to her. Even then, the brightest spot in any room.

And I don’t need anything back from her, not more than what she’s already given me, which is a thousand times, a million times more than anything I could deserve.

So I spiral into overwhelm when her hand raises to trace the line of my jaw, her eyes lock to mine, and she whispers, “I love you, too,” and I can see in her eyes, she means it.

Every cell in my body dances with the news, my soul lifting until my body barely weighs a thing.

She stands on her tiptoes to kiss me again, this time a feather light touch like being stroked by angel wings. I grasp her hand, clutching it close to my chest, close to my heart, feeling my world flesh out until it’s complete.

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