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“What did you say?” he yells in my face. “What have you got for me so we can settle your debt?”
“Me,” I repeat as tears blur my vision, and I try to kick him in the shins.
“What? I can’t hear you.” He raises his deep voice, his eyes running from my lips to my eyes and down again while he adjusts the front of his pants.
“You can have me,” I scream in his face, with tears streaming down mine.
FALL
I can’t believe she’s selling herself to me. I can’t believe a woman like her walked into my fucking place. She doesn’t belong here. I was thinking of going home when I saw her arrive. Fact is, I’ve been bored for weeks—no, months. Nothing gives me the same rush as it did before. Not the money and everything coming with it, the prestige, the fame, and the women I fuck on the side mean nothing. I make sure they don’t talk, not that they dare to do with the way the six of us run this town. The moment she walked in wearing her oversized shirt, I was interested. She’s different, and why do I like the tears streaming down her face while I’m choking her and imagining it’s my dick doing this to her? I was watching her the whole damn evening, trying to figure out her tells. She was good, I’ll give her that. Someone must have taught her to play. I was mesmerized when she brushed her hair back behind her ear, the way she smiled and laughed at something her friend told her put me off my game though.
The way she spilled her drink made me almost launch into a psychotic rage when my number one bartender helped her clean up the mess. He gave her a drink on the house, my fucking house. My woman, mine, to buy all the drinks in the world for echoed through my head. I don’t do commitment or relationships. I screw them and move on, that’s it. Why am I interested in the mess sitting in front of me, shivering in her seat? I love the way those light eyes spit fire, mix it with the way she trembles, and I know how much fun I’m going to have. I’ll be breaking every part of her until I get what I want, and I can cast her aside like I always do. Women bore me nine out of ten times; I may like one for more than a day if she can give me a good blowjob, and keep her mouth shut. I hate it when they talk. I hate it when anyone talks, now that I think about it. I want quiet in my life. With her, I’ve already talked more than I’ve done in a week.
She irritates and intrigues me at the same time. And I know I had to join the table and figure her out for myself. I never do this, I only play with my brothers, not with the pathetic assholes I make money from. But having her all scared and big eyed in front of me is better than I could have fantasized about.
My security cameras didn’t do her justice. She’s beautiful, not in the ‘I went to Gangnam and rearranged my face kind of way’, she’s real. And those light blue eyes, fuck, my dick has been hard ever since I sat at the table. She didn’t notice all the people cashing out and running away with their money as fast as they could when I entered the room. I let my security know to have her friend leave with Jackson, my number one bartender whom I’m going to make clear to never look at her again. I want her all to myself.
I know she was counting cards, but I don’t care, others would lose a finger for what they did. I wanted to see how far she would take it to save herself from the mess she’s in. I mean, one hundred grand is crazy, even for the world I live in. What did she do? Go to some high-end store and splurge on designer outfits? I study what she’s wearing, the only thing standing out is her Vetements designer shirt, she definitely likes streetstyle. It’s all oversized, and I’ve been wanting to get a fucking peek since she walked in. I can’t deny it turned me on to see the scared look on her face when I tipped her chair back, or the way she swallowed when I grabbed her by the throat. My dick noticed it too, I’d already had to rearrange myself too many times since I’d sat down.
Maybe it wasn’t my best idea to scare her into submission, but still, I want her. Most of the time I go for models who barely weigh fifty kilos and come up to my chin. I know she’s hiding curves under those clothes. And I want to drag my fingers through her hair and watch her come apart while I fuck her any way I please. I want her in my bed and tie her up so she can’t leave. I want to hold on to those curves hiding under her shirt and never let go while I fuck her.
She can’t speak Korean, she isn’t Korean… maybe a little somewhere down the line. I want something impossible, and she screams impossible to deal with, and this makes me want her more. With all the yes sayers and pleasers without their own opinions around me, I’ve had enough. We’re all fucking bored, all six of us rule this town in our own way as a team, without anyone by our side. We have each other, but with work and getting older, our priorities have shifted, and each of us have started to travel toward different destinations.
Her eyes dart around the room, and I want to wrap my arms around her and promise I’ll make it all go away. I groan, where did that come from? I grind my molars and glare at her. She owes me big time, and I’m going to collect. I’m going to own her. Fuck, the way she swallowed while I held her by the throat, I almost came in my fucking slacks. Why not play with her a little before I say goodbye, like I always do? I don’t need anyone, and certainly not a mess like her. “What do you want to give me?” I grunt, making sure my voice has an edge to it.
“Myself,” she whispers, and I can hear a hint of defiance in her voice, and I like it.
Dann, my dick gets rock hard by her submissive statement, but the way those eyes lock in on mine for a second also tells me she likes to take control once in a while. “And why do you think I would want you?” I ask, leaning forward and placing my hands flat on the wall behind her, boxing her in. Nowhere left to run, kitten, you belong to me now.
Her cheeks turn red and my dick twitches. I like to watch the panic in her eyes while she’s figuring out what to say. I want her, no question about it, but I want to play with her some more. Make her squirm and regret she walked into my place. And she smells so fucking good. This is another thing those other chicks don’t have, they smell like the most expensive perfume, not like her. I want to taste and smell her sweat. I want to lick every part of her little body hiding under those oversized clothes. I know I’m fucked up for what turns me on, but I want to taste it all. I want to try things I haven’t done before with anyone. I wonder if her ass will turn the same color as her cheeks when I hold her down and take what I want? I stifle a moan, damn, I want this girl and I don’t know anything about her, only she’s a screw up of epic proportions. And she’s now mine. I want her in my bed, in my home so no one can snatch her before I ruin her. I bite on the inside of my cheek, leaning back a little and running a hand through my hair. Why do I have the urge to smash the chair across the room when I think about all the others she might have had before, or will come after me?
And where the fuck does needing her in my house come from? I meet my hook-ups in five-star hotels or Michelin star joints. They bore me nine out of ten. Because they only tell me what they think I want to hear. I want to have an actual conversation for once, I want to hear ‘no’. And something tells me she’s going to say no or maybe scream it if I’m lucky. She’s coming home with me. I might have to kidnap and lock her the fuck up, she’s not leaving. I roll my shoulders, I’ve been tense the last couple of days. Expanding to new territory always brings new risks, but by looking at her, I lose all the pent-up anger and tension I’ve been carrying around.
All the blood in my head travels down south, and I get a little lightheaded. I press my hand tighter around her neck and she whimpers. Fuck, I like the sound. Is she going to make the same one in my bed? With all the blood rushing down, I have to adjust the front of my slacks again. My cock is already aching and stiff, wanting to get a taste. One bite, I think as I run my tongue over my lips, watching how her eyes travel over my face, probably checking for my human side, which unlucky for her isn’t there. I’ve seen too much and done too much shit for my soul to still be intact.
Her eyes follow the movement, and the way she’s pressing her thighs together, I know the power I hold over her. Those wide eyes drill into mine, probably searching for a kind, caring angel, sorry for her I’m the devil who left that part of me long ago in some back alley. This is the only me she’s ever getting, a shadow warrior who tries to act human. I stare at her soft lips, and I want nothing more than to guide her to her knees while I tug my zipper down and watch her wrap her juicy mouth around me while I make her choke on my cock over and over until she passes out from the pain. I loosen my grip on her neck while her fingers clutch at mine. I love how they feel, trying to get me to stop. I never let anyone touch me like this, I’ve got enough scars already. The chicks I fuck only feel my dick while I screw them from behind.
There is something about her making me want to show all the parts of myself. Maybe because she doesn’t come from my world—fucking Canadian, I roll my eyes. Maybe a small taste won’t matter? Leaning forward and fanning my lips over her cheekbone down to her mouth, I softly run them over her soft skin. She stiffens and blows out a breath. And I get drunk on her taste alone while I lift her up from the chair, pressing her back against the wall.
“Please,” she begs, and I like the sound of her voice.
I swear under my breath, groaning the words out loud while I push myself against her, wanting to feel her curves—she’s so soft and hard at the same time. A perfect match echoes through my mind. Fuck that, I don’t believe in fate, fate is for weak people. I run my nose along her neck and up into her hair, and she smells so good, like wildflowers.
She makes a plaintive sound when I press my thigh against hers, opening her legs. I let my other hand move over her curves, focusing on the sound of her breathing and the erratic beating of her heart. She’s scared, I can tell by the way her body trembles. Storm, a fitting name for how delicate and strong she looks at the same time. When I lean back a little and those eyes lock on mine, I grip her waist tight and watch as her cheeks flush. Licking my lips, I wonder what would happen if I took her right here on the poker table.
“Please,” she murmurs, the husky sound of her sweet voice making my dick take notice again. I want to press myself against her stomach, to show her what she does to me. How hard she’s making me with her defiant eyes, and those lips I want to see wrapped around my fucking dick. I’m this close to pushing my knuckles against her pussy through the fabric of her jeans and feeling the heat. Could I make her come like this? My mind is going into overdrive, imagining all the things I want to do to her, with her. I’d like to watch her touch herself, maybe she’ll let me. Shaking my head, I glare at her. What am I doing? If I take her up on her offer, she is mine and I can do everything with her I want, what I need. This time, I don’t have to worry about the fall out.
“Are you scared of me?” I taunt, raising the corner of my mouth. I can’t really smile after someone tried to slash my face open before I put a pencil through his eye. I know how I look; it helps to act the part in my line of business. Even my brothers fear me sometimes when the devil in me comes out to play, like she’s going to do.
She stares at my scar, and I snarl. No one has the right to look at me like she is doing now.
Her eyes widen in panic, while I keep glaring at her. Fucking give me a reason to break you, kitten, give me a reason to make it hurt so good.
“No,” she whispers, but I know she is, they all are. Most of the women I fuck can’t look at me, this is why I screw them from behind, still wearing all of my clothes. No one gets the power to stab me in the back.
“You should be,” I tell her, and my voice sounds predatory, like I’m in need. I’ve never needed anyone, maybe my five brothers, but they are different. They get me and leave me alone when I need to be by myself, or else heads might start to roll, and they know when to back off.
“Fuck you,” she breathes huskily, and I chuckle while my balls twitch from her words.
