Page 13 of Brutal Union (Ruthless Mafia Kings #8)

NADIA

“I think you can do better than that, Hime, ” Sho chuckles, his head lolling to the side as blood cascades in slow, glistening rivulets down the ridges of his chest.

I’m in the corner of the room—half-shadow, half-devil—wiping the blood off a slender blade with slow, practiced strokes. A smile curls at my lips as another groan rolls through the space, sharp and needy, echoing off the concrete walls.

“I think you’re a glutton for punishment,” I murmur, amused, as I glance at the screen again. Even now—watching this video back, alone in my dark Manhattan townhouse—I feel the heat coil low in my stomach.

“If it’s you…” Sho moans through clenched teeth, his voice broken and breathless. The pain softens into a hungry coil of want. My nipples strain against the thin cotton of my white shirt, and I don’t even bother pretending I’m not wet.

On the screen, Sho throws his head back, jaw tight and glistening with sweat. “Come on, Hime. I know you.”

In the footage, I click my tongue at him, playful and cruel. The freshly cleaned knife gleams in my hand like a lover’s promise. “Give me a body part, baby.”

Before the next cut lands, my phone vibrates beside me. I reach for it blindly, unwilling to take my eyes off the screen—off the smug smile slowly spreading across his face. The look he gives me, like I’m his oxygen, sinks deep into my chest and coils there.

I press answer and tuck the phone between my shoulder and ear.

“Говори,” I say softly, eyes still locked on his bleeding mouth.

“How long did it take you to get back to New York?” Sho’s voice drawls through the phone in a low murmur, and instinctively I am sitting straight up, and on edge.

“Do you want me back in Japan already, Shadow? ” I purr, a smirk tugging at my lips as the blade in the video glides slowly down the sculpted ridge of his right abs. The steel kisses his skin, just enough to open a thin crimson line.

He moans on-screen, and I sigh—soft, and satisfied.

“Are you watching one of our videos, Hime?” He chuckles.

The heavy pant of his groans rolls over the speakers, and I jump to turn down the sound on my laptop. My eyes dart around the ground level of my townhouse. You never know with an assassin, he could already be in here.

My smile deepens as I recline back into the velvet cushions, eyes drifting toward the window, blinds drawn. “Are you stalking me now, Shadow?” I purr. “Peeking through the blinds like some pervert? ”

“ Close ,” he murmurs, and I can hear the smirk behind it. “I am always slightly closer than you think. Now, answer my question, are you watching one of our videos?”

My thighs press together, involuntarily.

Instant. Sho is a contradiction. I like him beneath me, writhing, broken open under my blade—just like I like most men.

But Sho is different, beneath every moan, every surrender is a choice.

He could flip the script at any moment. That the leash I have on him is only taut because he lets it be.

And it’s that —the danger coiled behind his submission—that makes my body betray me every time.

I exhale through my nose, slow and controlled, though my pulse says otherwise. My voice drops into something low and syrupy.

“Maybe I missed the sound of your screams,” I say, lifting the remote and pressing play. His groan echoes again through the speakers—raw and sweet.

“Or maybe,” I continue, “I just needed a reminder of how easy it is to make you beg.”

A low chuckle vibrates through the phone, and I picture him lounging somewhere damp and illegal, shirtless, blood still drying on his skin. “Begging is a strong word, Hime. I remember giving you what you wanted.”

“You gave me what I took, ” I snap, just sharp enough to make him inhale.

He hums, lazy and deep. “Then take more.”

The line goes quiet for a beat. My breath catches in that silence. I can feel him grinning, can feel the heat of him through the phone .

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, voice rough velvet. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

I roll my eyes, but the shiver that moves down my spine betrays me. His voice always does this—sliding beneath my skin like a blade wrapped in silk.

“Do you really think you deserve that,” I purr, “after you left me tied up and naked in Tokyo?”

“You want me to beg?” Sho’s voice is low, a dark rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. I can almost feel it, the way his words wrap around me like a vice, tightening with every syllable.

I bite my lip, my fingers trailing over my thigh in slow, deliberate circles. “I like when you beg,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and I can almost see the smirk playing on his lips. “I think,” he says, his voice thickening with desire, “you like it more when my cock is inside of you.”

My breath catches in my throat, heat flooding my body as his words sink in. “Sho—” I start, but he cuts me off with a growl.

“Now,” he commands, the edge in his voice sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

I shift on the couch, tucking my feet beneath me as I feel the familiar ache between my legs. “You’ve seen it before,” I murmur, my fingers brushing over the hem of my white T-shirt. “White T-shirt. No bra. Bare legs. Knife on the table. My thighs?— ”

“Pressed together,” he finishes, his tone smug. “Because of me.”

A flush rises to my cheeks, and I hate how right he is. My thighs are pressed together, the tension building with every word he speaks. “You sound awfully confident,” I say, my voice sweet but sharp, “for someone who was crying on tape.”

“I wasn’t crying,” he says, a little too quickly. “I was on the verge of blacking out from all the edging you were doing.”

I bark out a laugh, but it doesn’t stop the ache growing between my legs. My fingers trail lower, brushing over the sensitive skin just above my knee. “Is that so?” I tease, my voice dripping with mock innocence. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looked like you were begging for mercy.”

“Mercy?” Sho scoffs, his voice darkening. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

I can feel the heat radiating from his words, and it only makes me want to push him further. My fingers dip between my thighs, brushing over the damp fabric of my panties. “Maybe not,” I admit, my voice trembling slightly. “But I do know how to make you scream.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and I can’t help but smile. “Is that a challenge?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

“It’s a promise,” I reply, my fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my panties. The moment my fingertips brush against my slick folds, a soft moan escapes my lips.

“Fuck,” Sho growls, his voice rough with desire. “I can hear you, Nadia. Every little sound you make. ”

My breath hitches as I slide a finger inside myself, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through my body. “Good,” I whisper, my voice trembling with need.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he demands, his voice thick with lust.

I close my eyes, focusing on the way my body responds to his words. “I’m touching myself,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “Thinking about you.”

“What about me?” he presses, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

“Your hands,” I breathe, my fingers moving faster now. “Your mouth. The way you taste.”

“And what else?” he asks, his voice dropping even lower.

I slide my fingers out of me, slick and glistening, and bring them to my mouth, tasting myself as I whisper, “I want you to fuck me, Sho. Hard and deep, just like this.” My voice is low, trembling with need, and I can hear the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

“I’ll make you feel every inch, Nadia,” he growls, his voice thick with desire. “Every thrust, every fucking inch of me inside of you, making you scream for more.”

My body shudders at his words, my thighs pressing together instinctively as if he’s already there, already filling me.

I let out a soft moan, my fingers trailing back down to my core, circling my clit in a teasing figure eight with just the right amount of pressure.

“Tell me how you’d do it,” I breathe, my voice barely audible. “Tell me how you’d take me.”

There’s a pause, and I can almost see the smirk on his face, the way his dark eyes would gleam with that predatory intensity.

“ First,” he begins, his tone dripping with authority, “I’d pin you down.

Your wrists above your head, my weight holding you in place.

You’d struggle, but we both know you love it when I’m in control. ”

“Not as much as you like me in control.” A whimper escapes my lips as I imagine his weight pressing me into the mattress. “And then?” I ask, my voice trembling with anticipation.

“That’s for round two, dirty girl.” He teases, and my back arches as my thumb rolls over my clit.

“But right now, I am going to take my time,” he continues, his words sending shivers down my spine. “My lips suck those perfect pink nipples, my teeth grazing them just a little before I bite down. I’d tease you with one finger…but that’s not enough for you, is it Hime?”

“Sho,” I moan, my fingers moving faster now as the pressure builds inside me.

“Nah, a dirty slut like you” he growls, his voice dark and possessive. “Needs at least three fingers in that greedy little pussy. Don’t you?”

A moan rolls through me, and I am squirming against my fingers. My chest is tight like I can’t breathe. “Fuck me.”

“Not yet, pretty girl.” He chuckles. “I still haven’t tasted you.”

I whimper, my fingers slipping inside me again, curling just the way I know will make me gasp. “Yes,” I whisper, my hips arching off the couch as I imagine his hands on me, his body pressing me into the mattress.

“I kiss those pretty lips and taste my favorite fucking meal,” he continues, his voice dropping lower, rougher. “A sip of the nectar of the Gods. ”

“Sho,” I moan, my fingers moving faster now, the wet sounds of my own arousal filling the room. “Please…”

“You’d be so wet for me,” he murmurs, and I can hear the strain in his voice, the way he’s holding back. “Dripping for me. Only then would I spread your legs wide. So wide you’d feel the stretch, the ache.”

Fuck I arch off the couch. The image. The feeling is almost unbearable as I pump my fingers deeper, faster.

“I’ll tease you with the tip of my cock until you’re begging me to push inside. “And when I finally slide inside, you’d feel every inch, just like I promised. Stretching you, filling you completely.”

I cry out, my body tightening around my fingers as I imagine him thrusting into me, hard and deep, just like he said. “More,” I beg, my voice breaking. “Tell me more.”

“I’d fuck you slow at first,” he says, his words coming faster now, more urgent. “Making sure you feel every movement, every stroke. But then… then I’d lose control. Pounding into you so hard you’d feel it in your chest, your throat. You’d scream my name, over and over, until your voice was raw.”

“Yes,” I gasp, my fingers working furiously now, my body trembling on the edge of release. “Yes, Sho, please…”

“Come for me, Nadia,” he commands, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down my spine. “Come on my cock like the dirty slut you are.”

The image is too much, and I feel myself teetering on the edge. “Please,” I beg, my voice breaking as I feel the first waves of pleasure crash over me .

“That’s it,” Sho murmurs, his voice soft but commanding. “You’re going to fucking cum for me, Nadia.”

And just like that, I’m falling, my body convulsing as the orgasm crashes over me in waves. I cry out his name, my fingers still buried inside me as I ride out the pleasure, my mind blank except for the sound of his voice in my ear.

When I finally come down, my chest heaving and my skin slick with sweat, I hear him let out a low groan. “Fuck, Nadia,” he mutters, and I can tell he’s touching himself too, his breathing ragged and uneven. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“Good girl,” Sho says, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Now, that you're ready for me. I should finish you off.”

“Then you better get on a flight right now.” I breathe out heavily.

“I’ll do you one even better,” he smirks.

My brows knit as I glance toward the window—blinds cracked just enough to see across the road, perched on the front stoop of the building opposite mine, a shadow standing still.

The phone is still to his ear. My stomach knots. “Sho?” I breathe.

He lifts a hand and waves—slow, taunting.

“Get your ass over here,” I command. “Time for--”

A white-hot blast tears through the house, fire clawing through walls like hands made of flame. The floor buckles. The windows shatter inward with a shriek of glass. I’m thrown backward off the couch, the force of it knocking the air from my lungs.

Pain slices through me. A scream dies in my throat .

Heat— everywhere.

My ears are ringing, bones rattling from the shock. Smoke pours in through every crack. Somewhere, the fire alarm screeches like a dying animal.

The last thing I see before everything blurs is a pair of heavy boots stepping through the haze. Fast. Precise.

Gloved hands grip me hard and drag me across the burning floor.

And then?—

Darkness.