Page 64 of Judas (The Lito Duet #2)

Chapter thirty-two

Havok

N adia is hesitant and rigid, understandably.

Sitting on the lap of your could-have-been killer would likely make a whole lot of people nervous.

This is where I like her though—apprehensive.

Alert to the point her eyes are zeroed in on me but she’s so aware of her surroundings that any time Lucien shifts or makes a sound, she nearly leaps off of him.

Like a good girl, she stays put—ready to vacate his lap at a moment's notice and follow my command. God, I love her.

Reaching a hand out, I cup the right side of her face, running my thumb over her lips.

Giving the bottom one a bit more attention while holding her stare until she’s calmed long enough to breathe evenly.

In my perusal, I notice a few random streaks of silver in her dark hair.

Hiding amongst the clumps of black, teasing the eye with a random shine.

Why haven’t I noticed those before?

Nadia could bring the world to its knees, have the rich beg the poor for safety, or shoot me straight through the chest with a goddamn harpoon and I’d still put her on a pedestal and worship the ground she walks on.

She’s stunning in her own right, which I am undeserving of.

She’s someone who is fighting so hard to find her place in the world yet still gives me pieces of her when it’s all she has left.

I’m greedy as fuck when she’s in question, I’ll take every bit of her and demand the rest for later.

I slide my fingers through her hair, pinching some of the silver strands between my digits, feeling them as if they have their very own texture, but they don’t.

They’re velvety and will look just as alluring curled around my hand as the full pigmented ones.

Which I do just that: curl her dark and chrome colored strands through my grip firmly, and clinch.

Tugging her head back until the length of her neck is exposed, I find exactly what I am looking for—her throbbing pulse.

Still, Nadia doesn’t move. Other than the way her hands droop down and search for anything she can hold on to.

Including the top of Lucien’s left arm—too good for the dried blood and gripe that will surely transfer over to her soft skin.

I have her full attention, the gleam in her silver pools solely on me as she sits on him like a tool—an inanimate object.

He’s pointless outside of serving as the flat surface I need to support Nadia when I ruin her.

Fucker likes to pretend he has one purpose, to maim, but I’ll gladly show him what forniphilia is and the humiliation that comes with being used as a thoughtless fixture.

Add a few new experiences to his murder resume.

“See this?” Roughly, I angle Nadia’s face where Lucien could see her. “You could never.”

Guiding her back to me, my eyes eat up the sight of her.

Seeing how her throat works through a swallow but she says nothing.

Her steely-colored eyes flicking from left to right, seeing pieces of me I can’t view without her keen eye or a mirror.

Even then, I wouldn’t be able to understand what she sees in me.

Her eyes settle to the left, Lucien in her peripherals.

Wrenching her head to the side, I make her look her brother in the eye.

Admonishing her, I growl, “Is this what you wanted to see, baby girl? Your eyes were wandering his direction; one can only assume you want to look at him and not me.”

“N…no.” Her reply is soft. Embarrassed, even. A flush crawls up her neck from the collarbones.

“Oh? That’s funny. You’re telling me that you didn’t look at him from the corner of your eye?”

“No.”

“No?”

Squatting down some, still holding her in place, I bring the both of us eye to eye where she couldn’t lie to me even if her life depended on it.

Her cheeks heat now, the flush from seconds ago staining the apples of her face in a beautiful shade of pink.

Eyes wide, drenched with concern, she fixates on Lucien.

If she looks harder she may burst into flames.

Dragging up my free hand, I slap her just enough for it to sting but not enough to cause her true pain—a shock to her system.

Nadia winces, inhales sharply and squirms. Lucien, though?

He turns his head at near neck-breaking speeds as an air of rage settles over him—tensing under Nadia’s wiggling frame.

A little slap pisses him off? That’s ironic, since he nearly choked her to death.

”Something wrong, Lucien?”

“Touch her that way again…” he warns me.

“Or what?”

I repeat the motion on the opposite side, but a bit harder.

Warranting me a hopeless whimper. The smacked skin turns brighter in color and I love it, love her.

Love how responsive she is and the way in which she leans in closer when I cause the masochist a bit of pain.

Amusement hits me deep down when Lucien begins chastising me, but I’m too caught up looking at his sister. So goddamn perfect.

“… son of a bitch.” Lucien shuns me, but the only thing in this situation I give a damn about is Nadia and the way her eyes are starting to gloss over.

Smarting off to him, I hiss, “I’ll send my mom your grievances.”

Lifting to a stand, I press up behind her.

Right outside of her line of sight, forcing her to watch Lucien.

Drawing her back into me, her torso elongates with the lean, feeding Lucien’s curious glances.

Grabbing the underside of her chin, my fingers reach up to the soft tissues of her cheeks and squeeze until the hardness of her teeth pinches the flesh and she tries to tug away from me.

Her slight thrash is cute—she isn’t going any-fucking-where.

“Open your mouth, show Lucien how good you are for me.”

Nadia groans but opens anyway. Obedient—another thing that fuels my deviance.

Two of my fingers instantly sink into her mouth and slide over her slick tongue.

A part of her I remember very intimately.

So much that my dick stiffens when I thrust them between her pouts, right before she starts to suck.

All fervent and eager, hungry, exactly how I remember her feeling.

It’s too damn easy to lose myself in the way she feels, in how good she is at accepting the things I’m aching to give her.

“See that, Lucien? This is what she looks like being mine.”

“A whore’s deed does not equate ownership—disgusting sow.”

“How much you want to bet I can make her squeal?”

Feeding my fingers further into her mouth, the pointer and middle slide over the rear of her tongue and she gags. It’s a spine-bowing, hands clenching, mouth watering gag.

“Lord have mercy!” Lucien jolts under Nadia but it doesn’t do much since her weight, added to his, keeps the chair planted on all fours.

Her eyes are heavy, filled with tears, fluttering slightly—yet she’s still sucking.

Passing my tongue over my bottom lip this time, I almost start panting when Nadia begins rocking.

Back and forth, deeper, in and out, treating the digits like my swollen dick—drooling around them.

To tease her, I pull them back and chuckle when the greedy girl ends up chasing after them.

Reluctant to have her cock sucker empty and not being used like it was created for.

With my other palm holding her steady, I allow her to suck them and please me a bit longer.

Watching Lucien closely, I observe a look of disgust wash over his aging features.

Abruptly, I shove Nadia forward. Her lust-glazed eyes widen when she finds herself nose-to-nose with Lucien.

He instinctively leans back but I’m not giving either of them a single inch of leeway.

Driving my fingers down her throat again, she gags harder.

Lewdly retching, drool flooding her mouth and over her bottom lip where she attempts to slurp it up.

Again, and again and again, I abuse her reflexes.

Filthy girl clamps around my fingers to stop the madness, sucks for her, I’m having too much fun.

I cannot wait to have my dick so far down her throat that my testicles rest on her chin and she stops breathing.

With a firm yank, I haul her back to me, letting my digits slip from her lip.

Thick strings of saliva keep us connected until they snap and drop to the fabric of her shirt and soak into the cotton.

Poor thing gasps for air, desperately gulping for it as if I’ve kept her submerged under a torrent for far too long.

Awarding my good girl a moment, both of our eyes slide over to Lucien, witnessing the fury hitting him with a violent wave.

From my peripherals, I can see Nadia’s tongue rake along her bottom lip, lapping up her drool—not wasting a drop.

Good girl.

Assuring Lucien understands, our eyes lock and I dish out my declaration.

“Mine.” Unfortunately for him, I’m not done.

I’m going to drive this point home. When he walks out of here, he will understand that she belongs to me; that her ‘whore deeds’ do mean I fucking own her.

From head to toe, front to back, inside and motherfucking out.

“Hands, baby. Use them.”

She understands my order once I help her sit up straight and move to her left side where I am more accessible to my filthy girl.

Wasting not a single damn second, Nadia twists and grabs the belt of my tactical pants.

The quick release buckle pops open and falls to the side, surrendering the button and the zipper she frantically snaps and drags down.

Damnit, I’ve always loved how enthusiastic she was for me.

From the first moment she took my cock into her domineering hand and stroked me until I fell apart, to now.

Seventeen years, pfft, who the fuck cares.

I have her now, and she will scream for me before I’m done today.

Her cries will haunt Lucien for the rest of his shitty ass life.