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“Bǎobèi, look at me.” His deep voice is so soft.

“Moon,” I gasp, clutching at his chest while I press my fist against his arm.

“Stop looking at me with those eyes,” he says and blinks at me, “or I’m going to turn you the fuck around and slide into your virgin ass from behind. No lube, no nothing.”

I grab his waist, and his eyes move down my heaving chest. I want him to do it. I’ve always wanted him to be the one, the only one.

“I’m the only one fucking you.” He raises a brow as if to say try me.

“What if I want to fuck you too? Ever thought about that?” I bite out, looking up at him. Holy shit, where the hell did that thought come from, and why am I saying it out loud?

His eyes widen and he reaches down to adjust himself. Does he like the prospect?

“If I let you fuck me, you need to promise me I can fuck you too,” I tell him; I don’t know why I’m saying the words I’ve kept hidden deep inside aloud.

“You want me to let you fuck me?” he scoffs, that half smile has my heart climbing into my throat.

I take another lungful of air; my head is still swimming and he’s doing everything to keep me from passing out, by keeping me talking. I can see the concern reflected in those dark depths. He tries to hide it, but his shoulders are stiff, and his eyes keep flying over my face down to my chest like he’s worried.

I nod, and he lets out a low laugh, raising his head to the ceiling. “I’ll think about it. How’s that for an answer?” he says, looking down at me through those thick black lashes.

I reach out and run my fingers over his Adam’s apple and his head snaps back, locks of dirty black hair drifting in front of his intense gaze. “I really don’t make those kind of promises, bǎobèi.”

I open my mouth, but he cuts me off. “But for you, baby, I’ll make an exception.” His deep voice sending chills down my spine.

I watch him clench and unclench his fist, like he’s holding himself back.

I really shouldn’t give into him, because when I do, I’ll kill not only him but myself. Because he doesn’t want me, not really. I’m just another empire to conquer. I have to make it hurt so bad for me that I’ll hate the thought of him, and I can finally let whatever this sick obsession is between us, go. That ever since I met him, he’s been the only one to occupy my mind, my dreams, my life. He’ll cast me aside when he’s gotten what he wanted from me, my life is worth nothing. Every moment I spend with him is a reminder that my life doesn’t belong to me, but to him.

“I didn’t want you to be my first,” I throw out, going straight for the kill.

He tilts his head and cracks his knuckles. When his eyes meet mine, I want to disappear into the wall. I want to sink down to my knees and beg him to let me live. His eyes are the darkest I’ve ever seen them, and the way the muscle in his jaw ticks show me he’s doing everything in his power not to choke me right on the spot.

He shakes his head and wets his lips. Him not saying anything is worse. I want him to yell at me, to hit me again, to make me bleed. To make me beg for him to stop. His fist lands next to my head and I hear his knuckles crack. I turn my head and stare at the blood dripping down the wall.

“Why don’t you punch me in the face and get it over with?” I say defiantly.

He runs a shaking hand over my throat, and I push forward, showing him I’m not afraid. The smell of blood fills my nose making my cock twitch.

“If you stop lying I will. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he taunts, and I feel a flush creeping up my neck. He knows I’m lying. Pressing his knuckles against my cheek he starts to apply pressure.

His silence is scarier than him yelling at me. Moving his fist down to my stomach, over the V-line and across the top of my waistband I whimper. I start to tremble from the indents his knuckles leave on my skin; I’ve never seen him this angry before. Is this the look he gets in his eyes right before he kills someone? He bites on his bottom lip, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body as he towers over me. Moving his fist up my throat to my jaw again, he smirks, showing me he could easily punch my lights out.

The feeling of his hand against my cheek goes right to my dick. Moon’s playing with me, and I’m loving every second of it. He pushes his thigh against the inside of my mine. “Are you hard right now? Such a dirty little whore spreading for everyone.”

“Yes, what are you going to do about it?” I yell, standing on the tips of my toes to get in his face, but I can only reach his chin.

He cocks his head and leans forward by placing his palms flat against the wall boxing me in. “I know for a fact no one has been in that sweet ass.” He grabs me by the throat and shoves my head roughly against the wall. “Your cum belongs to me and only me!” His voice is so low and deadly it feels like he’s shooting me again with those damn stunt bullets.

“What are you going to do? Hit me?” I swallow hard. “Please hit me,” I plead with him. He shakes his head and I draw my fist back punching him hard in the stomach, taking him by surprise. He topples forward, and I lift my knee trying to hit him again, but his fist makes contact with my jaw, and blood fills my mouth.

“Come here,” he roars, punching me again and I crash against the floor. “If you want to play it like this,” he yells in my face, grabbing me by the collar and draws his arm back. “Let’s fucking go,” he belts out, hitting me again with the back of his hand. Blood gushes from my nose and spills down my chest. I wheeze as it fills my mouth, and he smiles seeing me struggle to get his hands off, while I cough all over his chest leaving a trail of red in its wake.

“You’re not getting away this time,” he says, violently dragging me by my arm over the floor in the direction of his bedroom. “You’ll obey me, Eliot! You’re mine!”

Tokyo

Moon and Eliot