Page 168 of Bratva Butcher

“Dimitri! Fuck!” I screamed, the pleasure so intense that I couldn’t even draw breath. My climax hit me hard, obliterating my senses, a tidal wave of pure ecstasy washing over me.

I went limp. Dimitri kept fucking, his cock pistoning in and out, in and out, like he couldn’t stop, my body jolting forward with each of his harsh thrusts.

“Gonna fill you up so fucking hard,” he grunted against my skin, moving to another part of my neck to mark me some more with his teeth.

My eyes rolled into the back of my head.Dear god.

He moaned, low and long and deep, his tongue licking at my skin as he emptied himself inside of me. His hips pumped a few more times before he released a satisfied breath and then collapsed completely on top of me.

I startled awake, shooting up in bed, my heart beating wildly. Confusion wracked me, my sleepy eyes looking around the dark, empty room. Beside me, Dimitri slept peacefully on his stomach, his arms cradled under his pillow as his head rested on top of it. He didn’t snore. Thank god, otherwise, he’d be sleeping in the spare bedroom.

Frown on my face, I stayed still, not moving a muscle. Something had woken me up from a pretty good fucking dream, and I had no idea what it was.

But it wassomething.I knew that much.

The sound of something clattering from downstairs reached my ears, and my entire body went into hyper-alert, my bones stiffening.

Is someone in my goddamn house?

Probably not,I thought to myself. It was most likely just Scuba Steve, my cat. He came and went as he pleased, sometimes leaving dead birds and mice on my couch. He was kind of an asshole, but what cat wasn’t?

After one more quick glance at Dimitri, I slipped out of bed quietly. Part of me wondered if I should wake him, but he’d given me such a good fucking before, I thought it best to let him rest.

Keeping my footsteps light, I made my way across the room to the door, swiping up my underwear from the floor. If someonewasin my house, I wasn’t going to give them a free show.

Having carpet in my townhouse worked to my advantage, my footsteps soundless as I left my bedroom and started down the stairs. I paused every few seconds, listening intently. More clattering came from below, and I knew without a shred of doubt that someone was definitely in my house.

Whoever they were, they were fucking dead.

The bottom of the stairs opened up into a hallway. I could go left, entering into the lounge area or right, going into the diningroom that led straight into the kitchen. I had guns and knives stashed in little hideaway spots in each room of the house. Whether or not I could get to one before being spotted was the question.

Hushed, frantic voices reached my ears. They were coming from the left, so I went right, darting through the dining room and going straight for the kitchen. A large, marble island sat in the middle of the room. I hurried forward, taking cover behind it. Keeping low, my hand ran along the outside of it until I found the little compartment I was looking for. I lightly banged the side of my fist against it and a gun popped out.

Hello, Maggie.

Maggie was a .22 Magnum Pistol. She was light, easy to conceal and always reliable. With quick movements, I picked her up, checked the mag and chamber and took aim just as I could hear someone enter the room.

“This is the last room,” a man whispered, voice slightly muffled.

“Once we clear it, we make our way upstairs. Remember, shoot to kill. He’s dangerous,” another man responded.

He?

Fuckers were there for Dimitri. So many questions flew through my head. Who were they? Were they hired guns, sent by Sergei? How did they know he was here? That particular townhouse was under an alias no one knew about. It was why I’d specifically chosen it.

If any of them lived, I’d fucking ask them, and if they chose not to answer, I’d torture it out of them.

Any team worth a damn would spread out when clearing a room, which meant they were most likely going to be at opposite ends, making them harder to kill at the same time.

That was okay. I loved a challenge.

Reaching up, I pulled a knife from a draw and spun, quickly moving to the back of the island. Footsteps came from my left and right. They were each walking down one side of the island.

Excitement sizzled in my bones, The Crimson Death scratching at my skin, demanding freedom. A sadistic smirk curled on my lips as I let her take over. I flipped the knife into a reverse grip, adjusted my position until I was crouched, both feet flat to the floor and waited.

The one on the left stepped into my view first. So, he died first.

Sliding on my knees, I sliced the sharp edge of the blade across his shins in a brutal cut, spun around his body as he cried out in pain, shot up behind him and rammed the knife into the base of his neck at the same time I took aim at the other man across the island and pulled the trigger.

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