Page 178 of Cold-Blooded Creatures

I was done not having anything, so no one could be held hostage or killed because of my work. I was done giving a damn about bringing risk to others because I was the leader of the opposition. I was done giving a fuck that it meant people close to me could get tortured simply because I cared for them.

Kali had changed everything. Now, I wanted to take what was rightfully mine. She was my death, one I had claimed, and he was my sinner, one who would pledge his fealty to me on his knees, begging to be used.

But not tonight.

Tonight, my focus fell on her, on pulling her out of her own personal hellhole. On making her squirm and shredding her vocal cords until the heavenly taste of unconsciousness claimed her. Until her pleas to stop morphed into tears. Until she realized, once and for all, that she was ours.

Not the prey of her nightmares. Not the property of Ilasall and its soldiers.

Ours.

56

ZION

Her whimpers were as addictive as the fractals her blood had left on the bedsheets and Gedeon’s chin. And the way his muscles had pulsed each time I’d brushed his abdomen, stretching his restraint to the limit as his grip on Kali had turned bruising, had only spurred me on.

Even right now, with Gedeon circling me in one of the training rings in the pitch dark of the night, I was so hard that it’d distracted me enough to take multiple blows from him in the last minute alone; the taste of metal flooding my tongue.

“Come here.” Gedeon beckoned with a come-hither motion.

I was deeply familiar with that strategy of his, coaxing your enemy to take the first step, to become the aggressor. It provided him with a split-second advantage to determine your next move in combat.

But I was far from sane and listening to common sense… Not my thing.

“You’re sure you’re ready to take me on?” I lunged, ducking his uppercut punch and spinning around him.

Using my momentum, he swiveled and kicked the back of my knees. I stumbled, catching my balance, and leaped aside, backtracking a few steps to put distance between us.

He’d used my move against me. And going by his smirk, he was aware of his taunting. Incredibly potent taunting. The effects of which caused my sweatpants to tent between my hips.

“I am not the one who should be worried.” He prowled toward me, a hunter’s smile sharpening his features, and halted two feet away. “Kneel.”

Tiny rocks prodded my knees as I fell to the ground without a single thought in my head. Utterly blank. Erased by his command. I wasn’t sure if my muscles listened to me anymore or if his voice had stolen control of them.

“I did not say you could sit on your heels.” Gedeon folded his arms over his chest and tipped his head aside—a demand to fix my position.

I rose, and the movement tugged on my pants, the waistband mocking me by sliding down an inch.

Gedeon noted me shifting, and lifted my chin, meeting my eyes. “I want to hear your voice,” he said so softly, so calmly, so smoothly that I questioned my ability to fulfill his request.

“Please, I need— I don’t care, just—Please, I’m— I’ll—” I swallowed. “I’ll do anything.” I lowered my gaze to his boots. I’d probably lick them if he asked me to. “Please.”

“That will not work. Look at me while you plead.” As if he was afraid to hurt me, his knuckles grazed my jaw tenderly. “What are you begging for, Zion?

Fucking everything. Whatever I could get.

Never have I suspected I’d be into this, but him towering over me with that ruthless smile called out the need to belong to someone, to not be in control for once, to offer yourself up on the platter for them, knowing they would take care of you before, during and after they’d treated you as an instrument, pulling on the strings they wished, creating a melody of exquisite pain and torture, manipulating the notes into crumbling your defensesuntil acceptance became the sole way out, the only path to your salvation.

“Use me,” I said, my lungs expanding and contracting without a rhythm, my ribs threatening to explode.

“Lay on your back.” Steel laced his words, as sharp as my knife’s blade.

The freezing gravel couldn’t lower my temperature as I did as I was told, sprawling out in the middle of our training field, more than ready to take whatever he chose to dole out.

“I can see why Kali calls you aprettyboy.” A boot landed on my chest, and he transferred part of his weight onto it. Loose gravel dug into my naked back. “Beautiful lines”—his gaze traveled down my body and back up—“and a fucked-up mind worth dropping to your knees for.”

My groan vibrated under his dirty sole as my brain refused to come up with a proper answer.