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For several long moments, we didn’t say anything. Hell, I couldn’t say anything after what I’d just felt and experienced.
My virginity was gone, given to Butcher, because he’d been the one to steal my heart. Our breathing was identical, fast and labored, the aftereffects of what we’d shared and done filling the room and consuming every single inch of me.
I glanced over at him, watching as he lay on his back, his arm slung over his eyes, his stomach hollowing in and out, his muscles contracting and relaxing. I didn’t stop myself from enjoying the view, knowing I was the reason he was so spent. Sweat coated his chest, and as I let my gaze travel down his body, my eyes widening as I took in the sight of his cock, I felt that fire inside me reignite. He was still hard, thick and long, his cock resting on his belly. The length was monstrous, reaching to his navel, his girth intimidating.
That had been inside me.
His shaft was glossy from my pussy, and I didn’t miss the streak of blood covering his dick from when he broke through my hymen.
God, why did that turn me on so much?
“You keep looking at me like that and I’m liable to fuck you again, baby.” He looked over at me and cracked an eye open, grinning, the flash of his straight white teeth coming through the dimness of the room.
My heart skipped a beat at those words and that smile. “I mean, I’m not saying not to.” I squealed when he rolled me onto my back and spread my legs with his body. The feel of his hard cock nestled right against my pussy had that squeal turning into a moan.
“God, I love you,” he said against my throat.
I gasped at the feel of his stubble moving along my neck. He pulled back and looked at me, and I lifted my hand and cupped his cheek. “I love you, too.”
And I did. I really did.
Chapter Fifteen
Butcher
The scent of blood was so strong it felt like it coated you, like you’d just bathed in the red shit.
I stood off to the side, trying to catch my breath, sweat covering my forehead as I stared at a half-dead Henry. My knuckles were bloody and battered, my arms aching from the hits upon hits I’d delivered to the prick.
Shyne had found the motherfucker in no time at all. The bastard hadn’t even been trying to hide, probably because he didn’t know what he was up against. But it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. We would have found him no matter where he’d been.
“Smoke?” Boss asked and walked up to me to hand me a half-finished cigarette.
I shook my head as I stared at Henry. He was groaning softly, barely hanging on. But I wasn’t finished just yet. I wasn’t done delivering the pain this fucker deserved.
Oh, I’d done a beating on Henry all right, done a fucking number on his pathetic ass. I’d been working on him for the past half hour, slowly chipping away at the arrogance, his pseudo-power, until he was nothing more than the bag of meat sitting before me.
The fucker, who looked nearly dead, had his arms tied behind him, his feet secured to two legs of the chair.
The bastard looked about ready to pass out, so I tipped my chin in Shyne’s direction and watched as the man went and got some smelling salt. I wanted him awake for the rest of this shit.
When Henry sputtered back to full consciousness, I grinned and stepped closer to him, now standing a few feet from where he sat, staring down at him as he looked up at me. His face was a mess, broken nose, swollen and split lips, a tooth missing. Hell, he looked like the fresh meat the butcher had in the display case on Sunday mornings.
I reached behind me and pulled the hunting knife out of my back pocket, letting the light catch the shiny metal, grinning as he widened his eyes.
“F—F—” Henry sputtered, his lips so busted to hell he could barely speak.
I leaned in close so we could look right in each other’s eyes, although both of his were nearly swollen shut. “What was that, Henry boy?”
“F—Fuck. You.”
I ginned wider and straightened, looking at the other men in the room, and started laughing. They followed suit. “This asshole has some balls on him. That’s for fucking sure.”
Renner came up to me with a bottle of vodka. This wasn’t for drinking though. I poured that alcohol over Henry, hearing him scream as the liquor covered his open wounds, hurting like a bitch.
I wanted this to last all fucking night, if I was being honest. But I knew this had to come to an end. I wanted to end this. I wanted to go back to Poppy.
I wanted to love her and finally tell her she never had to worry again.
