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“Tell me again about my cock sucking ability?”

She’s insane. I swear.

I purse my lips, and she digs the nuzzle deeper into her skin, not playing around.

She wins this round. I am not testing how far she’ll take it—the price would be one I’d rather die than pay.

I give in, the words rushing out. “You have been the best fuck of my life. No one sucked me better, took me better, pleasured me more. No one but you, damn it.”

She tilts her head, trying and failing to suppress her smile. “Why the dress and the sandals?”

Every second she has the gun pointed at her temple, my heart threatens to explode. I don’t even think of lying. “You like those things.”

“See, it wasn’t hard.” She grins so wide, her face lights up and then she places the gun back onto my nightstand.

Grabbing it, I shove it at my back, my heartbeat returning to normal.

“I like that you gave them to me the most,” she says softly, constantly trying to disarm me.

“I just gave the order. Don’t flatter yourself,” I grumble, done with her bullshit.

I pick up my wallet and phone. I’m dressed to go out to one of our clubs. I haven’t been out in so long that the distraction is welcome.

“Where are you going?” she asks, casting a look at Kill, who tips his head in our direction from the carpet, utterly invested in our talk.

“None of your business.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, sticking the tip of her nose in the air. “You just made it my business.”

I am about to walk past her when she climbs onto my back, holding me in a choke grip.

“I see you choose violence?”

I am about to snap my fingers when the crazy woman bites my neck hard enough to leave a mark.

“What the fuck?” I ask, cupping my neck, alarmed she ripped the vein open.

“You asked for it.” She climbs down my back. “I’ll be ready in five.”

“I doubt that very much,” I mutter.

“Fuck you, Enzo.”

Walking downstairs, Kill joins me, flopping himself at my feet while I sit on the couch, going through my phone.

It was five minutes a while ago. Forty-five, to be exact. The more I think about it, the more pissed I get that I am still fucking waiting for her.

She shows up, and I gulp, cramming a fist into my mouth. My frustration reaching a new level.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Looking like fucking perfection and my fantasy rolled in one.

She wears the black minidress I picked that showcases her long and flawless legs. Held up by two thin strings, it would take only a flick of my finger to reveal her gorgeous body.

I want to lick her up, taste every perfect inch before I plunge into her pussy and never resurface. Her long hair falls down her back like liquid silk, the makeup enhancing her features. She looks spectacular. No point in denying the irrefutable truth. The gunshot wound has healed, leaving only a faint scar.

“Accompanying you.”

“As fucking what?” I snap, not hiding that I am on fucking edge.