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When I’m done, it’s almost 1:30 in the morning. I go back to her place and sit in my same hiding place across the street, where I have a perfect view of her bedroom window, like some fucking vigilante Romeo. Her shadow moves across the window and back, then the light goes out. A couple minutes later, her balcony door opens, and she shimmies down the side, hopping from balcony to balcony until she drops to the concrete beneath with the grace of a cat with all nine lives.
She doesn’t give a single fuck about her safety. Someone is threatening her life, and she’s escaping from a secure location in the middle of the night in a black hoodie and leggings, like she’s on her way out for a jog. My hand twitches, practically begging me to throw her over my knee and spank her mercilessly for her carelessness.
I’ll have to track her down first. She moves quickly, sticking to alleyways and shadows as she nears the strip club her family owns in this part of the city. She waits outside the back entrance, then sends a text from an outdated burner phone. I glance at my app, which tells me she’s still safe and sound in her room.
She may be young, but she’s smart. She thinks her family is tracking her phone. If she only knew it was someone much more devious.
The man who helped her dispose of Venza at the cafe—I think his name is Vinny—comes out of the building. If it were anyone else, I’d tell them to fuck off before throwing her over my shoulder, taking her back to my place, and spanking her so hard the entire block would hear her scream. For now, I choose to let the situation play out. They talk for a few minutes, and he shows her something on his phone before going back inside. She slinks in the opposite direction of her condo, right into my path.
I come out behind her and whisper, “Did you miss me?”
She whips around, throwing a punch right at the center of my face that I dodge at the last second. Then she follows it with a roundhouse kick that clips my jaw. Blocking my face, I rush forward, crowding her against the wall and holding both of her hands over her head. She struggles, but our bodies are so close to each other that she can’t move.
“What the fuck, Garrix?” she bites. “Get off me!”
I press into her, erasing the little space between us. I ghost my lips over hers, running the tip of my nose up her neck until my lips are right outside her ear. “That wasn’t an answer to my question. Did you miss me?”
My voice is low, raspy. Commanding. The same way it sounded in her bedroom last night. Her body shivers, and I can feel her need as she rolls her hips slightly before remembering herself.
“No, but you’re gonna miss your fucking balls once I rip them off and pickle them. Are you following me?”
“I prefer the phrase ‘keeping an eye on you’,” I correct her as I tighten my grip on her wrists. “You’re so loud and high-spirited, little killer. You’re gonna be a tough nut to crack, and I look forward to the challenge. It’ll make breaking you all the sweeter.”
“I’ll break your fucking face if you don’t get off me.”
“How about you sit on it instead?” I transfer her wrists to one hand and run my free hand down her side, over her hip. My fingers dig into the thick flesh of her ass. Her eyes widen, and I see the need in them. “You like that idea, don’t you?”
“Let go of me, or else.”
The bite to her words is hollow. Meaningless, really. She’s trying to convince herself she doesn’t want this, but the hitch in her breath tells me otherwise.
“Why are you fighting this, Maddalena? I know you feel something toward me.” I move my hand under the waistband of her leggings, dragging it to the front. “No underwear. How lucky that you ran into me and not some other monster in a dark alleyway.”
She glares at me silently as I dip my fingers in between her pussy lips, reveling in how wet she is. “Hmmm, you’re soaked. Someone enjoys struggling…”
She defiantly lifts her chin, her silence only spurring me on as I bring the wetness to her clit and flick it, giving her enough pressure to leave her wanting more. Little panting moans escape her mouth, and they sound like music to my ears. She grinds herself into my hand, but I want to hear her beg.
“You want more, little killer?” I croon. “I want to hear you beg for it.” I pin her hips to the wall so she can’t buck against me.
“Please, give me more,” she cries.
I slip two fingers inside her and fuck her with them as I flick her clit with my thumb. She gasps from the intrusion, and I work my tongue inside her mouth. She’s so warm, responsive. Greedy for me.
“Who do you belong to, Maddelena?” I demand. “Who did you wear no panties for in the middle of the night?”
She bites my bottom lip hard, and I ease up, slowing my thrusts. Her frustrated whine is accompanied by another bite, this time hard enough to draw blood.
“Answer the question,” I rasp before licking my blood from my lip.
“You,” she hisses.
I pick up the pace, and within seconds, she’s moaning again.
“Does my filthy little slut want to come all over my fingers?”
“Yes,” she groans.
Her body stiffens, and right before she explodes, I stop. Her drop from pleasure and confusion gives me enough time to pull her leggings down and flip her around. I pull her away from the wall a bit so she’s forced to put her palms on it to balance.
