Page 31 of Ruthless Redemption

I storm inside and stop at the end of the bed, her bare feet within reach. I’m tempted to grab her ankles and force them around my neck. To bury my face between her thighs and feast until she admits defeat. “You can have your meal whenever you like,amore mio, but you will sit with me while I eat mine.”

She meets my gaze, the narrowed slits of her eyes harsh yet so damn inviting. Her venom is invigorating. Exquisite.

I’d love to fuck her like this. To have her hate me and want me in the same breath. To experience the vicious push and pull. The euphoric pain and pleasure.

“And if I refuse?”

I paste on a smile. “Try it and see. I’d love the opportunity to force compliance.”

She mimics my expression and reaches under the pillow beside her to retrieve a steak knife. “And I’d love the opportunity to create a puncture wound.”

My dick hardens.Sick fuck.

The thought of her with a blade to my chest… at my throat… under my skin.

God, help her.

I grab for her ankle, prepared to drag her down the bed, wanting her violent vengeance. But she snaps her feet toward her ass, scrambling backward on the mattress until she’s seated, staring and smirking. “Touch me and pay the price, asshole.”

“I touched you last night,amore mio.” I stalk around to her side of the bed. She counters by scurrying to the opposite side. “My fingers were buried inside you. You came with very little effort.”

“I came because I was fantasizing about your death.”

I raise a brow. “A woman with a sadistic kink. We’re better suited than I thought. Maybe we should exchange notes on preferred foreplay, because wielding that knife of yours is driving me wild.”

She growls and raises her weapon, flinging it toward me.

It’s a good throw. Strong. On target. But she didn’t aim for body mass, so a simple sidestep has it sailing past me to thunk against the wall before thudding to the carpet.

“Nice try. Next time aim for my heart.” I place a hand over the thumping organ. “It shouldn’t be hard to find. You own it after all.”

She laughs. “You’re such a contradiction. You claim you have a heart when you don’t even have a soul. Tell me, Matthew. How many people did you slice open to become the Butcher?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Delightful,” she drawls. “And how many did you kill?”

I stand tall against my sins. “Enough to wipe out a small village.”

“So proud. So psychotic.”

“I’m not proud.” I won’t deny the mental assessment though. “You asked a question and I didn’t hesitate in giving an answer. I owe you the truth and that’s what you’ll get.”

“And you expect me to fall for a murderer?”

“You already did.” I reach for her across the mattress. “Now walk your ass to the dining table or I’ll get you there by whatever means necessary. And trust me, I’ll far prefer the second option.”

She huffs. Glares. Then slides off the opposite side of the bed to stand facing me. “Fine. But first—do you like my new threads?” She grabs the hem of her shirt, her smile seductive as she raises the material to breathe deep against it. “It smells like Bishop. It feels like he’s all over my skin.”

Her blow hits its target, creating an eruption of envy beneath my sternum.

I grin through the torture. Clench my molars at the pain. “You’re going to smell a whole lot like me if you don’t get out of this room.”

Her eyes sparkle. She delights in her victory as she takes another deep inhale of Bishop’s shirt, taunting me.

If the Butcher is what she wants, I’m obliged to give him to her.

I lunge, jumping onto the bed, obliterating the space across the mattress.

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