Page 56 of The Butcher

“Let me give you a life lesson, sweetheart. When someone opens a door, you just walk through it. Don’t wait for it to close because it might be locked the next time you try to open it. Life is fucking hard, and you should use every advantage you have at your disposal. The advantage you have right now is me. Use me.”

Every moment I spent with him made me more attracted to him. The words he spoke, the confidence he showed, the straightforward, no-bullshit way he handled his life and everyone in it. The pull between us grew in intensity and had the strength of a black hole, sucking me further into his soul. I’d loved Adrien with all my heart and wanted to spend my life with him, but I’d never felt for him the way I felt for Bastien, a man I still considered a stranger in a lot of ways. I didn’t know how to process these feelings. I didn’t know if I should see it through or pull the plug while I still had the strength.

“I’ll tell him you’ll be there on Monday.” He tapped his cigar into the ashtray and let the ashes sprinkle the bowl before he took another puff, his jawline sharpening when he pulled the smoke into his mouth.

I was desperate for a job, desperate to be out of that bar where all the sleazebags hit on me all night long. I wanted to be in bed at a reasonable hour, not at four a.m., not unless I was with Bastien. “Thank you.”

He enjoyed his cigar in silence, looking at me across the table with his arms crossed.

“So…how have you been?” I knew he’d had a rough few days, judging by his clipped tone over text. He was usually playful whenever we spoke, and when he wasn’t, I knew something else was on his mind.

“Bunch of bullshit at work.”

I didn’t ask for specifics. If he wanted to share, he could.

“Some of my dealers continue to use trafficked women as free labor. I took down one of them, but he refused to roll on his supplier.”

“Roll?”

“Snitch,” he explained. “The guy has two teenage daughters too. How fucking sick is that?”

“What did you do?”

“He broke the law, so I had to execute him.”

“Even though he has a family?”

“I don’t give a shit if you have a family or not,” he snapped. “You want to deal in my city, then you follow the rules. That fucking simple.” He put out the cigar then grabbed the drink instead.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“If you don’t want to offend me, then don’t judge me.” Now his eyes were ruthless, and for the first time, they were ruthless for me.

“I wasn’t judging you,” I said calmly. “I’m sorry if I made it seem that way.”

His eyes flicked away and he took a breath, an attempt to calm himself. “I have to maintain order. If I let a family man live, then I have to let another man live. Then I’ll lose respect and authority, then the Republic will fall, the old order will return, and Godric will rule this city. Trust me, no one wants that—even if you aren’t in the game.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I was afraid if I said anything else, I would provoke him again. “I missed you these last few days—and the last thing I want to do is upset you. So please forget I said anything.” I didn’t like his angry side. I loved his intense and playful side, the way he smiled when I complimented him, the way he smothered me in his affection even when he didn’t touch me.

Slowly, his anger passed like a storm cloud moving over the sky. Light came back into his eyes like the rising sun. He raised his hand slightly and gestured for the check. “My place or yours?”

“Yours.” My apartment was small, the walls were slanted and restrictive for a man his height, and it was messy and cold. I loved his home, loved the soft sheets on his bed, his enormous bathroom with an expansive vanity, the view of the Eiffel Tower from the window of the terrace. I loved the large fireplace in the sitting room, the way it warmed my naked body when we fucked on the couch.

When the tab came, he slipped a wad of cash inside, way too much for the drinks and fries we’d ordered, and then he pulled out his phone and fired off a message to his driver. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

When we walked into his bedroom, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a rock-hard chest and stomach covered in black ink. His shoulders were like mountains, and his biceps looked like grenades.

He came at me with that look that could kill before he pulled my sweater over my head and unclasped my bra. He lifted me into him so he could smother me in kisses, kissing my shoulder then my collarbone, kissing the hollow of my throat then my chest. He carried me to the edge of the bed and dropped me on it before he moved for my boots and jeans, tugging everything off, taking my thong with the jeans.

He grabbed my ankles and placed my feet against his chest before he dropped his jeans and boxers, letting them fall to his knees before he grabbed my hips and tugged my ass to the edge. He moved in a rush, like it was the first time he had me, the first time he got to bury himself inside me and release. He folded my knees against my waist then pushed inside with a satisfied sigh. “Fuck, I missed this pussy.” He grabbed one of my tits and squeezed hard as he started to thrust inside me, my ass over the edge, giving me his full length like he wanted it to hurt.

I reached out my hands for his hips, and I tried to grip them to pull myself back into him. It’d been days of separation but it felt like weeks, and having him inside me felt so damn good, no matter how much it hurt. It was like a glass of cool water on a hot day. A warm meal on a winter night. Exactly what my body needed to feel good.

His hand left my tit and went for my throat. He squeezed it as he fucked me, one hand still pinned underneath my thigh, folding me like a pretzel because I was flexible enough to bend the way he wanted.

Once he started, he didn’t let up, like he wanted to fuck me into a fast climax because he was eager to come. His handsome face tinted red, and the cords started to pop in his neck and his forearm. “Play with yourself.”

My nails continued to dig into his hips as I held on, his dick even fuller at this direct angle, filling me up completely. Watching him work and thrust to fuck me was enough to make me come, and I was already at the threshold.

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