Page 65 of Vice

She’s teasing about the last part. But she doesn’t know how close to the truth she is.

“And how would you plan to do that?” I ask, caressing her cheek.

She grins, wicked and dangerous and mischievous and just a little unhinged.

“Girl has to have her secrets.”

This is why when this is all over, when she hands me this criminal empire, I’m going to hand it right back to her. Such foresight. Thinking about how much of a liability I could be to this business, herself, and the children long before I considered the same of her. Considering the measures she’d have to take in the worst case scenario and keeping her cards close even after admitting she has no plans to kill me right now. Unafraid to take the most drastic measures, even when she’d prefer not to. If it was the only choice she was left with.

Gone is the naïve little girl I met when she was fourteen. Or the one who left me for dead and ran. Or the one I found hiding in small town near the Canadian border.

She is a monster of my own making. Beautiful. Graceful. Unassuming. All of which only serves to make her dangerous.

She is magnificent.

And despite the fact that she’s admitted she was planning to kill me and might still decide to later, I don’t feel the need to be paranoid. My interests are her interests. And she’ll eliminate anything that gets in the way of those interests. Even if it’s me.

She is the means of my downfall.

A means I unwittingly created.

I would gladly go down at her hands.

If and until that happens, I’ll give her the world. And if she asks—hell, even if she doesn’t—I’ll burn it to the ground in her name.

“I don’t mean to have a conversation about that though,” she says, sitting back on the bed. “I know the way we handled this… situation. It wasn’t the way you would have preferred. Not bloody and dramatic enough for you. You showed a lot of patience and restraint. You’ve been such agood boy.”

An excited thrill jolts through me at the praise, and Dele is very aware of it.

“So I was thinking I’d let you do whatever you want tonight.”

She makes a point of pushing her breasts forward.

“Whatever I want?”

“Whatever. And I won’t fight you or complain. I won’t so much as even glare at you. If you like it, I’m down.”

She’s putting a lot of trust in me for a woman who just admitted that she had plans to kill me. Between that and walking in to find her naked, I’m already hard. I could fuck her senseless right now and be satisfied.

But I’d be a fool to waste this opportunity. Because even when she wants me, Dele is never so compliant.

“Touch yourself,” I demand. Then I add. “Touch yourself until you come. I want you to come so hard you soak the bed all the way through the mattress.”

“As you command,” she says as she sit back on the bed and spreads her legs wide.

I walk around to the foot of the bed to get a better view of her pussy. Without taking her eyes off of me, she reaches down and begins to strokes herself. Up and down. Slowly but surely making herself wetter and wetter until finally she begins to focus the attention of her fingers on her clit.

She begins to let out soft sighs as she rubs herself toward completion, somehow still managing to keep her eyes on me through it all. Her legs begin to shake some the closer she gets. But it’s not going to be hard enough for her to come the way I want her to if she does right now.

“Slow down. Don’t let it happen yet.”

If she hadn’t agreed to do whatever I wanted without complaint, she might have glared at me and came precisely because I told her not to. Instead, she stops, goes back to stroking her pussy up and down. From clit to hole and back again, letting her pleasure subside. When I’m sure it’s enough, I nod and say, “Keep going.”

She does.

This time as her pleasure builds, her chest begins to heave up and down, and she takes in desperate gasps of air. Her legs begin to shake again. She’s having a harder time maintaining eye contact with me. But it’s still not enough.

“Stop.”

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