Page 11 of Poisonous Savage

ButChrist, the price for such a fantasy was steep.BetrayingHunterwasn't some small-time double-cross; it was signing your death warrant.He'dkill us both without blinking, that poison running through our veins as he watched the light fade from her eyes.Andthat'd be after he made us suffer, his stubbled chin split by that cruel grin of his.

I'dseen what happened to traitors, their screams echoing off cold concrete walls asHuntergot creative with his brand of punishment.Thatfrog inked on his back wasn't just some twisted piece of art; it was a promise of pain, a guarantee of a slow and agonizing end.Iclenched my fists again, feeling the familiar burn of restraint, muscles bulging with the effort to keep myself in check.Areminder of the powerIwielded, the destruction at my fingertips ifIever let go.

DamnedifIdo, damned ifIdon't.

SoIstood there, alone, letting the darkness of the night seep into my bones.Rosalind, a dream that could shatter with a single misstep.AndHunter, the specter of death, always lurking one shadow behind me.Thememory of his laugh, cruel and cold, sent a shiver down my spine asIrecalled him injecting that damn poison into some low-level to get information.CouldIbecome that?Toprotect her, to have her... wouldIembrace that same sadistic satisfaction?Thatquestion clawed at my gut.

Ipaced like a caged animal, the confines of the room pressing in, mirroring the captivity of my own making.

WouldImake the selfish choice and sign our death certificates?OrdoIwatch as a manI'vestood beside since childhood broke her soul, piece by piece?

HUNTER

Thedoor slammed shut behind me, the sound echoing through the vaulted ceilings of our bedroom like a gunshot.Meetingswith the other bosses always left a sour taste in my mouth.Theywere so fucking weak.Thistime, it had beenKaiwho called, wanting my loyalty.Wantingme to get on my knees to form alliances.No, that's not how it works.TheysuckMYdick if they want an alliance.Notthe other way around.Ididn't do whatIhad to do and become the largest crew inNewMexicoby getting fucking carpet burn.Iwas done with it, done with the day, just fucking done.

Giawas soGoddamnconcerned with takingKaidown that she was letting everything go to shit and quite frankly,Icouldn’t be happier.Theydeserved each other.MaybeI’llbe invited to their wedding.Kaidid not enjoy me telling him to suck my dick and throwing him the finger asIrolled out, but really, what the fuck was he gunna do about it?

"Rosalind,"Ibarked out. "Whiskey.Now."

Withouta word, she slipped away quietly.TheThorngirl had a way about her, silent as a whisper, butIknew beneath that calm surface churned a storm, a tempest waiting to be unleashed.Shewas no delicate flower, not anymore.Thislife, my world, was shaping her, molding her into something formidable.Shewas beautiful before, but... something changed.Andnow she was fucking divine.Likewatching a tsunami building far out, gathering steam to destroy a city.Hereyes... something in them had changed.Strippingoff my clothes,Istepped into the shower.Burninghot to wash away the fuckery of that meeting.

Shereturned, a crystal glass in her hand, the golden liquid catching the dim light as she moved.Rosalindset down the whiskey on the nightstand with a soft clink, her obedience making my cock hard.Hereyes lingered, taking in the sight of me through the clear glass of the shower door, her gaze burning over the expanse of ink and muscle.

Icould feel her watching, her eyes roaming my skin, stopping on my hard cock.Ismiled in satisfaction.Yeah,I'llsplit her open, make her fucking compliant.It'sjust a matter of time.Mybody responded instinctively, musclestensing, skin prickling with awareness.Therewas power in being watched, in knowing thatIcommanded her attention without so much as lifting a finger.Itwas a game of dominance, oneIplayed well and intended to win.

Thewater sluiced over me, washing away the grime of the day but not the darkness.Thatwas a part of me rooted deep within my soul.Istepped from the shower, the cool air of the room wrapping around my wet skin.

Shesat on the bed, poised like a statue, her dark eyes never leaving me.Thetension between us was a live wire, charged and ready to spark.Ididn't need to say a word; she knew whatIwanted, whatIneeded after a day like today.

Rosalind'sinnocence had been a cloak she shed long ago.She'dgiven herself to someone else.Someonewho would receive their retribution very fucking soon.Ifshe could be a little slut for him, she could be a good little whore for me.

Thewhiskey waited, ignored, for now, its amber depths holding the promise of a different kind of burn.Butfirst, there was another thirst to quench, one far more primal.Witheach passing second, the anticipation grew, thickening the air until it was almost suffocating.

"Knees,"Igrowled, the word slicing through the tension-charged silence.Itwasn’t a request; it was an order—one she'd learned to obey without question.Powerthrummed in my veins.God, to see those dark eyes looking up at me.I'dfucking kill just about anyone to have her want to suck my dick.Butfor now... forcing her to do it would do.

Shemoved, her feet quiet, her body aGoddamnmasterpiece of curves and shadows as she sank down before me.Thiswas whatIlived for—the control, the dominance, owning every fucking inch of her submission.

"Goodgirl."Thewords were gravel, raw pride mixed with the basest desire.Shewas mine, to use, to take, to mark, and no one else's.Herobedience was my absolution, her surrender, my goddamn crown.AndIwore it like the ruthless kingIwas, unrepentant and insatiable.

Inthe kingdom of the damned, we were sovereigns of sin, rulers of ruin.Andshe was about to revel in how deep my darkness went.

Myhand knotted in her curls, black spirals twisted around fingers that commanded life and death in equal measure.

"Open,"Ibarked, voice laced with the kind of darkness that made men's souls flinch.Herlips parted, an invitation to corruption, andIdidn't fuck around with pleasantries.Ithrust forward, burying myself in the warmth of her mouth, the wet, welcoming heat that she offered up so willingly.

Rosalind—sunshine turned to sin, innocence warped by my hands.Shetook me whole, her throat a velvet vise that clenched around every inchIgave her.Andfuck,Igave it all, no mercy, just the brutal rhythm of need and power.

Mybreaths were ragged, jagged edges of a man who lived on the brink of violence.Thesound filled the room, mixed with the obscene wetness of her compliance.Iwatched her eyes, those dark pools of desire that once sparkled with naivety, now glazed with the sheen of submission.Tearsspilled from the corners as her face reddened, my grip firm asIheld her on my cock a second too long, causing her to choke as she pulled away.Still, she didn't say anything.Shejust gasped, spit streaming from her mouth, wetting her shirt asIpushed her back onto me.

Iowned her.Everyfucking part of her, from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.Buthere, on her knees, she was the mouth that served, the body that bent, the willing canvas to my relentless craving.

Thebuild-up clawed at my spine asIbucked forward, tipping my head back asIheld her flush against my skin.Iwas close, teetering on the edge of release, riding the high of total control.Withone final savage thrust,Iheld her head still, my grip punishing asIpoured my release downher throat, claiming her once more in the most primal way a man could.

Pleasureripped through me, raw and uncut, a blaze that seared everything in its wake.Irode it out, every last shudder and pulse until there was nothing left before pulling my cock out.

"Swallow."Itwasn't a request; it never was.Shedid, muscles working beneath the skin of her elegant neck, and satisfaction curled in my gut like smoke.Shewas mine, utterly and completely, even asIpulled away, leaving her on her knees, marked by my touch, my taste.

Istood over her, the rush of authority flooding my veins—a king in a kingdom of shadows, withRosalind, my queen of darkness, bowing to my rule.

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