Saint
Breakin' Dishes - Rihanna
I’mveryself-aware.Ican be abitof a bastard.
Today, I’m anevilfucking bastard.
The Pit has training sessions that run every single day, mostly because Ultio are made up of ex-military, secret service, and the underworld. You name it, they have the skills.
It’s like enrichment for them; they need to continuously be on top of their game.
Usually, I join them, but I’ve had to postpone my own training to random hours of the fucking night, partly because I’ve had Indie parading about this room like my own personal entertainment.
Four days she’s been at it, and I hate to admit, I’m fucking impressed to the point I’ve had a raging hard-on watching.
She’s been engaging in close combat with the guys, bringing down men twice her size. I know her dad taught her self-defence techniques he learned in the military, but fuck me, she’s an animal.
I have a lot to thank that man for, and now I can see the surface level to the monster that lurks within.
The dark she spoke of glasses over her eyes when she gets on that mat, conjuring it to fuel her drive.
About an hour ago she was paired with Tyler, who’s almost the same height as me, and at least one hundred pounds heavier than her.
Not only did her height benefit her, but she swiped him right on his ass with a blink of an eye, winding him as he sprawled out on his back, trying to figure out what the fuck happened.
Her only fault was she hesitated with her elbow, until Rex pissed himself laughing and told her she could hit him.
Tyler?
He wasn’t fucking expecting her to do it when he managed to flip her, and now he’s got a busted face.
The image cocks a smile on my face.
I hate to admit that I envisioned she was still fragile after everything she’s gone through, despite her words.
A darker mind, that I didn’t doubt.
Fuck, I thought she’d been going through the members with a gun and doing one-hit kills. We never did look into many of their deaths; most of them were just clients. Hadn’t even noticed since none really hit the headlines.
Now I’m seeing that she likes to play with her food.
When she was warming up with some of the guys earlier, she practically danced around them, like she was engaging in foreplay.
An audible groan leaves me, and I reach down to adjust my cargos, the memory of her wicked smirk sending a bolt of electricity straight down my dick.
The wordmaybehas rolled off my tongue more times than her name these past few days. Each night I slip into her room, and each time she asks the same question.
The sickest part of me knows she waits until I’m in her bed, trying to lure an agreement out of me, usually involving her mouth or pussy.
I’ve been branded all sorts of shit, all for enjoying seeing her get pissed when I don’t give her what she wants.
I’m just enjoying having her in my arms again after all these years, watching that confidence beam through her darkness, and shudder beneath my touch, the goosebumps breaking out all over her skin at my words.
Overpowering her when she thinks she’s got the upper hand is my new favourite.
I don’t want her to go for her own safety. Omnia having their eye on me, and now likely her?
I don’t dare let my mind go towards what they’ll do to her if they catch her.
