Page 131 of Falcon's Prey

I let go of her chin to grab the ring from my pocket.

“I’m not asking you, princess. I’m telling you that you’re never going to get away from me,” I told her as I slid the ring on her finger.

Tears were sliding down Ember’s face, messing with her makeup, but to me, she’d never looked more beautiful. She marveled at the ring on her finger. There was barely enough light for her to see it properly, but she was smiling. It was a black emerald-cut ring with a ruby in the middle and small rubies in the band. The design was perfection, Michael’s best work.

Ember threw her arms around me, and I lifted her to kiss her.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“I didn’t ask,” I said against her lips.

“I need you.” She did that whiney high-pitched voice that went straight to my dick.

With her in my arms, I walked us back to the shadows and pushed her against the wall. My hands came to her tulle skirt, lifting it slowly, savoring her.

“Fuck,” I groaned against her cheek as I felt her soft pussy. “You’re bare.”

“I need you right now,” she breathed again, knowing what her begging did to me. I undid my belt quick, then lifted her using the wall for support and thrust inside her hard. She was wet, tight, and forever mine.

I fucked her cunt hard and raw, watched as her head slammed back from pleasure, and when we came, we did it fast.

“‘Til death do us part,” I vowed against her lips.

A Few Months Later

Daphne

Location:Colombia

The warm summer breeze hit my skin, caressing. It was almost comforting. The ocean was deep; although it was a thing of beauty, it was also deadly…like me.

“You’re exquisite, love, but you already knew that. Too bad it’s just another weapon in your arsenal. So beautiful, yet deadly.”

The wind seemed to mock me, whispering words in my ear I didn’t wish to hear.

“How are you holding up?” Bastian barged into my room with a small briefcase in tow.

He had already showered, his hair slicked back, that three-piece suit that cost as much as the view I was paying for wrinkle-free. You could take the socialite out of the spotlight and teach it to live in hell, but the roots of his upbringing would never go away.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I started strapping my weapons on.

Twin knives on the inside of my leather boots. A small survival bracelet at my wrist next to my coiled snake saw bracelet. Two small Glocks, one in the front compartment of my leggings, the other in the back, and my small rose pendant that contained a deadly vial of T. Nothing too alarming—we didn’t want our host to get suspicious or anything. We were in Barranquilla today for a small gathering; depending on how things went, we would move things to the jungle.

“It’s not like I’m scared they’re onto me or anything.”

“Not funny. You die, I die with you. Your head and mine on neighboring spikes.”

I rolled my eyes. Bastian was a drama queen, something no amount of torture managed to take away. I guess that was his tell that he was nervous. Mine, well, I didn’t think I even knew them. Being the devil’s pawn for so long, you got used to living in hell, and your stomach was a bottomless pit of despair.

“Do people still use spikes?” I humored him.

“Even worse, we’ll be in some unmarked cooler in the middle of the Siberian tundra,” he deadpanned.

“You’re foolish if you think they’ll bury me anywhere near home. They’ll probably cut me up into tiny little—”

“Okay, enough,” Bas shouted. “Do we have time for fun right now?”

I stopped braiding my hair long enough to glare at Bastian. “Keep your dick on a leash.”

---