“Depends.” She laughed lightly and looked up at me. “If you’re done.”
“Not by a long shot.” I grinned, my dick twitching inside her, ready for round two.
Later, after I’d fucked her until she couldn’t breathe, somehow exacting revenge on her earlier perception and promising not to remove her mask, she stayed beside me through the long, gray crawl of the night. Her warmth against my side, her breathing slow and steady while the world outside slept. Every time my eyes drifted shut, I felt her shift just a little closer, as if daring the darkness to try again, and by the time dawn bled pale light through the high windows, I realized she hadn’t moved once.
fifteen
. . .
Remo– 36 years old
Toweling my hair dry, I leaned against the bathroom door frame and watched her chest rise and fall. The faint hum of my vibrating phone filled the silence, a tedious reminder of my black and white lifestyle.
Today though, my attention shifted, disinterested in whoever was calling, superseded by the mystery woman an arrogant ass like me strangely obeyed. Even though I’d made a deal not to unmask her, the urge to do so clawed its way down my spine but she trusted me enough to fall asleep in my bed. She intrigued me, something not many could do easily. Curious, I wanted to know more about the woman who’d not only become my stalker but someone who shared my darkness.
Maybe I just wanted a friend. Like for like in personality, danger and desire. The thought made me laugh under my breath, low and bitter. A friend. What an absurd notion. Growing up, a therapist told my mother I needed friends. That lasted all of five minutes. He was fired, and my mother taught me her own lessons instead.
I pushed away from the door frame, the towel slipping from my fingers to the floor. My bare feet carried me toward her sleeping form, each step quiet. Koro’s face, the part I could see, was peaceful, serene, free of the tension and defiance that usually defined her.
“What is it about you that keeps me intrigued?” I asked under my breath, leaning over her, my fingers hovering above her lips. “Aren’t you tired of hiding? Of pretending?” I murmured.
The faint warmth of her breath brushed my skin, reminding me how her kisses, her pussy, her touch had consumed me while her reactions told me she’d also lost herself in the moment. Only, she’d recovered far quicker than I’d anticipated.
“You think too loudly,” she whispered, voice raspy with sleep before her eyes opened and she looked up at me.
Last night, I’d darkened the windows to prevent the morning sun from blinding me yet even in the shaded duskiness, her eyes gleamed a brilliant blue.
“Sorry.” I straightened. “You’re welcome to stay and sleep more.”
She stared at me for long moment, the silence stretching thin between us, and I had a feeling my offer didn’t sit right with her. Perhaps she feared the domesticity of the situation we’d landed in, the quiet aftermath of a night built on violence and need.
Wordlessly, she rolled off the bed, wrapping the sheet around her nakedness. Thick hair cascaded down her back, a dark river against the black mask and white sheet, making her an ethereal sight, an almost godly presence. The irony settled heavy in my chest because she belonged in hell, just like me.
I watched her walk into the bathroom, choosing to give her privacy and let out a soft laugh that echoed in the empty room. I’d never, in my history of fucking, allowed a woman to railroad me, yet somehow, she had.
Shaking my head, I unshaded the windows to let the morning light bleed in, then entered my walk-in closet, unwrapping the towel from around my waist as I did.
When I exited a couple of minutes later, Koro stood by the window. With her back to me, hair pulled into a high ponytail, sword in hand hanging loosely by her side and dressed in a catsuit she probably had stashed in the backpack at her feet since I’d ripped the one she wore last night off her, she stared at the horizon. I shoved my hands into my pants pockets and leaned my ass against the backrest of a sofa, giving her time, sensing she needed it.
“Remo,” she eventually said quietly yet devoid of anything resembling emotion. “I might be captivated by you. I might even indulge in some form of inexplicable attachment. And my pussy definitely has an affinity for your cock. But.” Slowly, she turned, those blue eyes trapping mine, cloaking me in their mystery. “I. Do. Not. Feel.”
Each word fell, like a rock to water, quick, heavy, and with a sense of finality as it sank to the bottom of my stomach, crashing into me harder than I expected, surprising me.
“I am an emptiness no one can permeate,” she continued, her sword winking against the sunlight. “A monster created by the sins of my enemies.” Her words hovered in the air like thick acrid fumes, stifling and inescapable.
My laugh was short and sharp. “We’re the perfect duo then, aren’t we, Koro?” I suggested. She merely stared at me. “I was labelled a monster long before I killed, willingly.” I straightened.
She stepped toward me. “Then it would be safe to say that you’re good with this?” She raised her sword, circling my crotch with the tip. “No strings attached fucking?”
“Would you not rather kill me instead?”
I dropped a hand to the sword, closing it around the edge. A sharp, pricking sensation cut through my thoughts, jolting mefor just second yet I felt no pain, just mind-numbing aggression for this beautiful woman who deserved so much more but like me, she’d lost herself in the need for vengeance.
“I am mafia, after all.”
Another step brought her nearer and she grasped my hand, uncurling it from her sword. With her eyes on me, she dipped her head and ran her tongue along my palm, lapping at the bloody mess as if it were her favorite drink. She lifted her head, her mouth capturing my attention. Stained with my blood, an act so heinous yet so beautiful.
“All choices have consequences, my dark prince. Some define us while others.” She licked at the new spurt of blood. “They bind us in eternal love or perpetual hate.” Her eyes found mine again. “You can’t save me. There’s no redemption. I am what I am. Darkness.”
