Page 13 of Twisted Obsession


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CHAPTER FIVE

DANTE

Iwoke the way I passedout when her father’s bastard of a henchman tried to bash my skull in. With my fingers buried in her still wet pussy, a raging hard on between my legs, I was torn between stealing her away forever or killing her.

Celeste lay on a stretcher bed with me humped over the side, both legs dangling and breathing in the sweet scene of her skin. My face smushed into her stomach with a gun pressed to the back of my head.

Within seconds of waking, the urge to rain death on the three men gathered around us fell to them instead of her. A moment of abject clarity fell over me as I recognised I never intended to kill her. Because I fucking loved her, worshipped everything about her.

That the three men standing in the shadows watching me defile her stunning, lithe body were present left my need to claim her that much stronger. I flicked my wrist, sliding the crossbow bolt from beneath my wrist as I half-stood, leaning over her to check she breathed.

Her chest rose, and mine loosened with the motion.Good.That she still lived only prevented me from killing the three men now instead of later, but I needed to secure her first.

“Wintergreen,” I mumbled, ignoring the gun grinding a bald patch into the back of my head. My mouth filled with what felt like sandpaper, only it was my tongue that stuck to the roof of my mouth. “Wake up, pretty girl.” Not that I wanted her awake, but I needed to know she wasn’t so damaged she couldn’t wake.

Her breaths grew erratic as she came out of her faint, as though resistering already what was happening to her, the fuckingwrongnessof it all.

And as a hired killer, this situation was all sorts of fucked up. Especially when the first rotund man stepped forward and opened his mouth.

“I see you’ve met my daughter.” Mandillion Flores slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels, a pleased expression creasing his face as I watched him from the corner of my eye.

He flicked his fingers at me from his pockets, indicating to the man behind me to step back. I half snorted. If I made the same motion, his daughter would come on my hand.

Celeste choked as she came around, gasping a little louder than she’d been able to when I played with her.

But the rules of this engagement changed. I wasn’t certain what they were yet but I could take a solid guess.

Risking taking my eyes off the small-time gangster who was well out of his league, I turned to her, sliding the bolt from my free hand and palming it to hers in a seamless movement.

Wake up enough to take what could save your life, you fucking beautiful little killer.

I looked her up in my off hours, not being consumed with watching the physical version of my obsession and caved to stalking her digitally instead. She had at least eight kills to her name, all the same sort: hired hits from her father or others, the youngest when she was twelve, taking the garrot the man fumbled, nimbling climbing over his bulky form that worked against him and twisting it around his neck. She was so damn small the behemoth couldn't reach her as she bit through his skin and into his oesophagus.

The others followed suit until the perfect nineteen-year-old was as cold on the inside as she was outside.

“Keep your other hand where I can see it,” snapped her father’s man, the one with the gun.

The third remained in the shadows, unmoving, observing. I sensed the power play in motion and knew I didn’t have to worry about her father, just the other two.

He would meet his just end shortly, by one of our hands.

Celeste clenched around mine, her body twisting slightly as she realised my hand was still lodged inside her, deeper than I had been before. Her soft moan sent blood evacuating from my head, but I didn't need the distraction of arousal right now, not if she was to live.

Me... I wasn’t so certain about a future. Right now had to be about her.

“You may play with her. I’d like to see her have a good fuck before I end her,” her father sneered. “She’s been useless, playing in her little studio, makingpictures. How fucking pathetic. A waste of money. The mafia grounds of her choice at her pickings and this is what she does with her life.”

“You caged me,” she whispered, her body bearing down on me again.

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