Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
The cell becomes quiet. All is quiet, minus my heavy breathing. He turns to face me, grabbing my hand and studying my eyes. “House. Now,” is all he says, and then he drags me out behind him.
I look back at their bodies, how lifeless they are now. Sagging in chains, their arms still up. Bound. Same as I was when I first came here.
Blood. So much blood everywhere, and for some reason it doesn’t bring me much satisfaction. Not as much as I’d hoped. No, if anything, it seems they got the easy way out.
Draco takes me out of the cells without a word. He bursts out of the door, still dragging me behind, and as soon as we do, I see all of his men’s eyes stretch—not with horror, but with utter disbelief.
They didn’t think I would do it.
Well, the proof is here. All over me.
“Clean it up. Make sure there is nothing left of them,” Draco directs as he passes by with my hand still fastened in his.
They all nod, but as I pass by each set of staring eyes, one pair makes me pause.
Patanza’s.
Her eyes aren’t full of disbelief—they’re full of admiration. She’s glad that I did it?
I smirk at her before finally pulling away and catching up to Draco’s side.
He glares down at me, and there’s a flicker in his eyes—one that he’d only give to me.
Pride.
Lust.
Satisfaction.
He bustles through the house, sweeping me up in his arms when we get to the kitchen, and then rushing toward the staircase. I can feel all eyes on us, but he only has his gaze set on one person.
Me.
We’re in his bedroom in a matter of seconds. He doesn’t waver, taking me to the bathroom and immediately starting the shower.
“Get undressed,” he demands when he places me on my feet.
I step sideways as he moves backwards. I take a look into the mirror, spotting my reflection. I look horrific. My dress and even my skin are soaked with blood from the neck down, dark red splatters on my cheek and chin.
“No,” I say, voice firm.
He cocks a brow, looking me over. “What?”
“No,” I repeat, staring at my reflection again. “Take me,” I breathe. “Like this.”
His eyes flash, his tongue running over his lips when I face him. “You’re filthy with his blood,” he responds.
I smirk. “I know. That’s the point.”
His mouth clamps shut and honestly, I’m not surprised by the look I get. His eyes tell it all—a dead giveaway. Primal and fierce. I’ve just turned him on. He wants me. Bad. And he’s going to take it.
He lifts his arm and his large hand comes around the back of my neck to pull me in, looking at me from head to toe.
“You enjoyed that,” he murmurs. It’s a statement, not a question.
“Maybe I’ll enjoy this”—I tug his shirt open and the buttons scatter all over the marble floor—“a whole lot more.” I grin and that grin alone is his undoing.
Gripping my hips, he picks me up and plants my ass on top of the counter. He steps between my thighs, and I make use of my hands, unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants, and shoving them down. When they’re gone, I feel the bottom of my heels digging into the backs of his thighs.
He hisses from the pain, frowning at me, but he doesn’t let up. He grips my hair and tugs back, angling my mouth so his can hover above. His eyes roam my face. My lips. My bloodstained cleavage.
And then he claims me, mouth dropping down on mine, tongue slipping through my parted lips. I clutch him tight as he uses both hands to rip the dress down, breaking the zipper and exposing my breasts.
“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he growls when he snatches his lips away and forces his forehead on mine. “My filthy, filthy niñita.”
He clutches my hips, bringing my ass to the edge of the counter.
“I’m not wearing panties. Take me,” I whisper. “Now. Please, Draco.”
He doesn’t hesitate. He spreads my legs wider apart by pushing his hips in closer, his thick tip meeting at my entrance and then pushing in, my ass locked in his hands.
Then he picks me up off the counter and bounces me up and down on his cock.
He’s not gentle or remotely easy on me.
He bounces me up and down hard enough so that I can feel every single inch of him as I descend, and the aching absence of him when I rise back up again.
His eyes are like molten amber, focused on mine. My arms are wrapped around his neck, my teeth caging my bottom lip.
There are no words for this moment.
None at all.
Really, what can I say?
This isn’t an ordinary fuck. This is a victory fuck.
They’re gone. I’m still here. He saw what I did. He knew I had it in me. He’s been waiting for me to unleash it ever since the day he met me. How twisted, sick, and dirty that is of him.