“I’ll fuck you in their blood.”
He starts to fuck me hard enough that I’m sure there will be an imprint of his cock in my pussy. The counter digs into my ass, the photographs sway on their clothes lines, and I'm surrounded by the evidence of who we really are.
"Say it," he demands. "Say what you are."
"I'm yours, Dom, and you’re fucking mine."
"Damn fucking right.”
His pace falters before he cums with a groan, flooding me while I hold him close as he shudders through his release. We both moan as he removes himself from my body, his cum drips out of me onto the counter. I’m literally a fountain right now.
He kisses my forehead, then lifts me back down. We clean up, and he helps me put the darkroom back in order, making sure nothing is visible if someone were to walk in.
But as we head back to bed, I feel lighter than I have in weeks, because we have a plan.
Tomorrow is hunting day and I cannot fucking wait.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
DOM
The scanner crackles to life at 10am. I left early this morning and purchased a scanner from a pawn shop, ready for the day ahead.
"Units respond to the 3200 block of Leonard Avenue. Reports of shots fired. Multiple victims. Approach with caution."
I'm in the kitchen making coffee when the call comes through. Roxy's still asleep, as we were up late in the darkroom planning our next moves.
But this is what we need.
I grab my phone and pull up the map to pinpoint the location. Gang territory. The kind of place where violence is common and police response is routine.
I let the coffee finish brewing and carry a cup to the bedroom. Roxy's sprawled across the bed, her dark hair fanned across the pillow, wearing nothing but my t-shirt, somehow my t-shirts are her new daily attire.
"Roxy."
She stirs, her eyes opening slowly. "What time is it?"
"Just past ten. I got a scanner earlier and it’s just picked up a shooting."
She's awake immediately, sitting up. "How many victims?"
"Multiple. Gang-related, probably."
"When can we go?"
"Not yet as we have to wait for the scene to clear. Let the police do their work, remove the bodies, process the evidence. Then we go in after."
She nods, understanding the strategy. "How long do you think that will take?"
"A few hours, maybe, it depends on how complicated the scene is."
"Okay."
She gets out of bed and crosses to me, taking the coffee cup from my hands and drinking deeply. She's beautiful in the morning light, sleep-soft, a total paradox to who she is at the core.
"You ready for this?" I ask.
"I’ve been ready since we got here."
