He ran a thumb across his jaw, contemplating my words. As fucking if. We liked to box in the ring to blow off steam, but we rarely got any punches in. We were both too good to let our opponent land a hit.
“It’s a bit too late for a round,” he deadpanned, but he watched me with a sharp gaze. “Do you feel like you need it?”
It was how I kept my sanity. My rage and episodes, as he called them, were only on a tight leash if I blew the steam off by fighting or torturing. Sex, unfortunately, wasn’t one of the ways to relieve stress since my dick refused to get hard. Until now.
Nix Romero seemed to be the woman for me.
I just had to be careful not to let her see all the things that were wrong with me. All my life, I fought to escape the shit that was wrong with me. It started when Father took me to his most expensive whorehouse when I was fifteen and insisted I lose my virginity. He wanted me to become a man. Amon had successfully avoided it since he opted to bang some older chick in our high school and get it over with.
My memory flashed to that time.
Father’s fingers dug into my shoulder blades as he watched the whores line up in front of us.
I didn’t want to do this.
“Pick the one you want to fuck,” he demanded.
I flushed, my eyes darting to the women. It was wrong to do this. I’d seen what Father did to Mother and I’d heard her cries. I didn’t want to be like him. Nerves twisted my stomach as I studied them, wanting to refuse.
But Mother warned that my refusal would have dire consequences.
He’d beat me, then he’d beat her, and I couldn’t allow that. So I pointed at a woman with dark brown hair and brown eyes.
The woman nodded to my father and grabbed my hand, leading me to the back of the parlor. Once we were alone in the room, the doors closed behind me. The woman offered me a fake smile and placed herself on the bed.
“I don’t want to fuck you,” I blurted out. She froze and fear entered her expression. My gut twisted with aversion. I hated this. I hated Father for making me do this, and even more for making these women do this.
“Y-you want to hurt me?” Her body started to tremble and my eyes widened. She must have thought I was likehim.
I shook my head.
“No, I just don’t want to fuck you like this. Maybe we can talk?” God, if Father caught wind of this, he’d whip me black and blue. “It’ll be our secret or… or I will hurt you.” I shuddered, immediately regretting threatening the woman.
But I didn’t apologize. I couldn’t have her telling on me because I couldn’t bear for Mother to pay for my disobedience. Or my brother.
“So what do you want?”
I thought for a moment. I’d watched porn and heard plenty of boys talk about sex, but nobody talked about how to make a woman feel good. I liked knowing specific details, and I needed to feel in control. So I went for it. It wasn’t as if this woman was making my dick swell.
“Can you tell me…” I cleared my throat, my cheeks heating up. “Can you teach me how to make a woman feel good?”
And she did.
“Dante?” Amon’s voice snapped me back to the present.
He looked at me expectantly and I raised a brow. “What?”
Amon stood up and leaned against the desk. “I asked whether you need to blow off some steam?” he repeated. “I don’t want you going on a rampage in Paris.”
I rolled my eyes. “You make me sound like I’m some kind of Jack the Ripper.”
“Minus killing the women,” he drawled simply. “I’m not saying the men you pick to kill don’t deserve it, but we don’t need attention drawn to us.”
“Because of Reina Romero?”
“No, but I don’t want her involved either.”
Jesus, he was hard up for her, and it made Nix flash in my mind. Would fucking her release my tension and need to kill? Would it possibly eliminate the rage I felt brimming inside me at all times?