He no longer looks like he wants to murder me.
“Since you’re not feeling chatty,” I murmur, scraping my blunt nails down the corrugated ladder of his abdomen, “I’ll do all the talking. On your dick.”
CHAPTER THREEEshe
My… threat—warning? promise?—echoes in the room. The Huntsman doesn’t make a sound, but that gaze dares me to follow through. Demands it.
Instead of unbuckling his leather belt, I carve through it, then slide the button through its hole and jerk the zipper down. I could drag this out, taunt him… taunt myself. But I’m only patient when I have to be. And for two years, I’ve waited for him. Now that I have him where I’ve needed him for so long, I’m too eager, too excited, too fuckingstarvedfor this.
For him.
For the brutal strength of the Huntsman.
For the hidden layers of Malachi Bowden.
I want to peel them away until he lies exposed and vulnerable beneath me, as weak as he’s rendered me.
Payback is one fucked-up bitch.
Like an affectionate kitten, I rub my cheek against the long, thick length tenting his black boxer briefs. Which is fair. I mean, he has become my new scratching post, my favorite chew toy.
His cock flexes beneath me, a not-so-silent command to get on with it, but I don’t. My conscience’s smaller than a gnat’s asshole, and my boundary list is even tinier. But thereisa list. And sexual assault and rape are on it.
“Is this what you want?” Setting the knife beside my hip so it’s not a distraction, I then stack my hands on his stomach, proppingmy chin on them and meeting his eyes. “And I get talking isn’t your thing, Huntsman, but you’re going to have to give me the words. You’re chained to my bed, and I’m going to kill you. You don’t have a choice in that. But whether I touch you right now? Whether I put my mouth on your dick? That’s completely your choice. So yes or no, Malachi?”
He stiffens; his whole body goes rigid, and for a second, those gray-blue eyes flare wide and blank with shock. I’m not certain if it’s because I’m offering him the chance to make his own decision or because I’ve said his real name. Maybe both.
Shadows cloud his gaze, concealing any emotion as if it never existed, and I’m staring into the crystallized, soulless eyes of an assassin again.
I tilt my head, frowning.
Huh. Maybe not so soulless.
Absently, I inch my bottom hand free and crawl my fingers up his still-bared torso until I reach his pierced nipple. Without breaking our visual showdown, I tug on the barbell and then press a fingertip against the cut above it, studying his savagely beautiful face for a reaction.
A struggle wars across his expression. But lust wins out. It’s in the firming of that generous but cruel mouth. In the flash of heat in his eyes. In the tautening of skin over his cheekbones. In the reflexive grinding of his jaw.
No. Someone devoid of a soul wouldn’t be capable of this much passion. Whether it be hatred or lust. Or a gorgeous, toxic mixture of both.
“Yes or no, Malachi?” I push, once more deliberately using his name.
“Do it,” he grits out from between clenched teeth.
Short, to the point. But I need more.
“Do what?” I press, goading him. Needing him to fully give me the permission I crave.
“Use that pretty, filthy mouth for something else other than talking my goddamn ear off and suck my dick.”
In seconds, I scoot farther down his body, hooking fingers into the top of his boxer briefs and tugging down.
“Goddamn,” I breathe.
I’ve rubbed my pussy all over him, so I surmised how big he was, but…
“I’m going to damn near dislocate my jaw taking this dick.” I close my eyes, brushing my lips back and forth along the wide base of his length, the coarse nest of dark blond hair tickling my chin. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
Rising on my knees, I fist that beautiful, intimidating dick with its broad, plum-shaped head and veiny, heavy shaft, and pump it with both hands piled one on top of the other. By no means is this my first dick, but my fascination with him belies that fact. I inhale his heady musk, and that leather, minty, storm-filled scent is thicker here, more intoxicating. Lowering my head, I nuzzle the hair-roughened balls that hang low beneath his sex, darting my tongue out and dragging it over each one.
