Page 1 of Stand: Part One

1

Let The Games Begin

“Tell me you’re mine.”

Pure ecstasy rushed through my veins, my heart pounding with adrenaline as my cock slid in and out of Jaden’s soaking-wet pussy, her cries of pain and pleasure spurring me on.

“I’m yours,” she moaned, her breath escaping in little pants of sweet desperation.

Her admission sent a dark wave of possession through me. My uncontrollable need to own every inch of her—mind, body, and soul—was an obsession that was never satisfied. It was never enough.

With my hands wrapped around her hips, her small but strong body beneath mine, I drove into her, forcing her to take every hard inch of me. Her breasts bounced beautifully as a thin sheen of sweat began to gather between them, glistening her skin to perfection.

“Oh God, do not fucking stop,” she gasped, arching her back and straining against the diamond-studded cuffs that kept her hands trapped above her head.

Lifting her legs to my shoulders, I reached down and slapped her ass hard enough to make her scream, the sound going straight to my cock.

“That fucking mouth of yours,” I warned.

Only moans replaced the objection hot on her lips.

Her wet, abused pussy clenched around me, gripping my cock in a vise of excruciating pleasure, making me fuck her even harder. Jaden was a goddamn goddess, sent to me from the depths of hell to torment my soul with a spirit I couldn’t break, a heart I couldn’t own, and a body I could not touch without the complete annihilation of my carefully constructed self-control. I was a slave to her power over me, a single glance capable of mass destruction, igniting a longing that ran so deep I would never be free from it.

And some days, I fucking hated her for it.

Pressing her knees together against my chest, I leaned over her, stretching that lithe body and striking out to pin her throat to the bed. Her amber eyes widened with alarm, her pupils so dilated that her beautiful hazel irises had nearly disappeared. And the more I squeezed, the harder her core pulsed with need around my cock.

Jaden struggled in my hold, the fear of my unyielding will and the uncertainty of its direction a constant shackle to every move she made. I could kill her in this very moment if I wanted to, wipe out her existence along with the plague she’d wielded over my life. And she knew this to her very core, the evidence of it all over her face as she waited for me to decide her fate. Her terror only made my dick harder.

And while it would be so easy for me to snuff the life right out of her, my will beckoned me to consider the exact opposite—creating life instead. To plant the seed that would command her body to nurture, to initiate the final act that would bind her to me in ways that could never be broken or paralleled by any other force.

My heart swelled at the vision of her growing belly, carrying my child to create the strongest legacy only she could give me. The legacy that she would give me. The legacy that I would now strive to construct, and expand my dominion over this world.

Relaxing my hold, I allowed Jaden the precious oxygen that filled her lungs, granting her another breath of life I could so easily take away. Gripping the back of her neck, I pulled her to me, my voice firm with the conviction I was eager to impose on her, my decision made and final.

“I’m going to put my fucking child in you.”

And then she screamed my name as she came, the sound a blinding beacon of eternal victory as I drove myself home.

“Hey! We’re about to land!”

The voice pulled me from my dream, the remnants of the last moments I’d shared with my wife before I’d left for Honduras slowly fading away. Sitting up from my seat, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stretched my arms out, expanding my stiff muscles. Visions of Jaden’s perfect body still held my attention captive, her moans echoing in the back of my head and distracting me from reality. I swore she’d be the first order of business the second I returned home, an urgent ambition to be continued as soon as possible.

The sound of the helicopter blades above me brought me back to the present, my focus now shifting from the steel rod in my pants to the mission ahead of us. Seven of my best men, including myself, were packed inside the helicopter, armed to the teeth and thirsty for blood.

When I glanced out the window, the lush green jungle outside waited to greet us, the promise of unfettered carnage an absolute pleasure to men like me. It’d been two weeks since Dominic’s funeral, and I’d spent the past six days watching Javier Spade’s compound.

My team and I had stuck mostly to the shadows, monitoring the comings and goings, the guards employed, the people who visit, the imports and exports of the compound, the security measures—every bit of intel we could extract. And now we finally had enough to execute and bring Javier’s world to a crashing halt.

After landing the helicopter, we made our way through the jungle to the top of the hill that oversaw Javier’s compound.

Sweat dripped down the side of my temple, threatening to breach the lids of my eyes as I peered through the scope of my rifle. The humidity of the jungle in Honduras was fucking brutal this time of year, and all the goddamn gear I’d strapped myself down with was not helping in the slightest.

While I focused on my targets, my blood pressure decreased with massive disappointment at the same small number of guards patrolling the compound. I expected more would come over time—I had hoped for more, but Javier Spade was apparently more concerned with his money and financing his now struggling drug trades than the security of his own home and family.

“I only count ten on the grounds,” Scott confirmed as he peered through the scope of his own rifle next to me.

“Twelve,” I corrected. “There’s two shooting up behind the shed.”