Page 8 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)
Blade
“ O h god, yes!” Sarah screams, tightening her thighs around my neck as her husband Marcus watches with heated intensity from behind her. His powerful hands grip her waist, steadying her against the pull-up bar as I devour her dripping pussy.
“That’s it, baby,” Marcus growls, nipping at her neck. “you may come, now.”
She seizes in our arms when I pinch her clit, but I don’t let up. Marcus’s fingers thread through my hair, pressing me harder against his wife’s plump pussy while his she writhes between us. Her knuckles go white on the bar as she grinds against my tongue.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful like this,” Marcus murmurs, rolling her nipples between his fingers as I slide my hand down to grip her perfect ass.
I press a finger against her rim while Marcus keeps her steady, our movements synchronized, like we’ve done this a thousand times before.
When I finally slam into her, Marcus guides her legs around my waist, his cock pressing against her back as he helps support her weight. The three of us move together, lost in pleasure, Sarah gasping between us as we drive her higher.
“Ah, Kiera, you’re so fucking tight.”
Two angry gasps sound in my ear.
What the fuck did I just say?
“Who the hell is Kiera?” Sarah demands as Marcus nearly drops her in shock.
“Bro, not cool,” Marcus says, looking genuinely hurt. “We had a connection. I even showed you my limited-edition Dungeon Master’s Guide!”
The front door swings open and Phoenix saunters in, taking in our naked trio with raised eyebrows. Avoiding me as I snatch a towel off the floor and cover myself, her eyes land on Marcus’ D the perfect image of a stern librarian shushing some poor kid for the ridiculous offense of sneezing too loud.
“Someone’s in a bad mood,” she says, but the sparkle in her eyes clue me in that she’s still fucking with me. “Not the post organismic bliss you were looking for?”
I don’t answer her, and really, she doesn’t expect one. We’ve formed a bond deeper than words in the past eight years.
I pour us some of the amber liquid and drop two round cubes in each glass before lazily falling onto the couch next to her, holding my hand out. She snatches the drink, replacing it with the envelope which I toss onto the cushion on the other end of the sofa.
I narrow my eyes. A tick starts up in my right one.
“Look Blade, nobody’s perfect. I don’t know exactly what happened, but you’re the best Umber has. This was just a one off.” She rubs my shoulder, and I tense up. “You’re injured. Let me have a look.”
I fucked up. One time is too many in our world. Shaking my head at her, I reach for the remote to turn up the volume and drown out the lecture she’s about to start.
“I took care of it,” I say, and turn my attention back to my drink, ignoring the envelope, not ready to open my next assignment.
“You don’t let anyone?—”
I take another swallow of my whiskey before answering.
“Not tonight. I don’t want to hear it, Phoenix.”
She’s always after me about how I’m too distant, and don’t really connect with people. What she refuses to acknowledge is I don’t need relationships the way most people do. I don’t like people. They lie and fuck you over.
Phoenix moves the sleeping dog off her lap, cradles it in her arms, then stretches her feet out and tucks them under my thigh.
She opens her mouth to say something, but the idiotic commercial for a sock finder promising you’ll ‘never lose a sock in the dryer again’ ends and the news comes back on distracting us both.
My eyes flick to the TV as Phoenix pulls her feet away and spins on the cushion.
Dropping her feet to the floor, she focuses on the blond newscaster dressed in a smart blue blazer.
Regardless that I’m fluent in German, I still hear the words in English.
“Good evening. I’m Anna Müller. Tonight, we begin with an important piece of news on climate change.”
I head into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge, and the little rat’s head pops up off Phoenix’s lap, his attention fixed on me.
I cut up some leftover bratwurst and grab a bowl I’m willing to sacrifice before filling it with water from the tap.
Jerking my head in a quick side-nod, he jumps down, prancing into the kitchen as if he’s king of my castle.
He growls, once again baring his pointy teeth at me, but quickly focuses on the food when I mirror his actions.
“Just for that, I’m naming you Sally.”
“Damn, he’s definitely meant to be your dog. Cute, but salty as hell,” Phoenix says.
“Not happening,” I quickly deny.
As the newscaster drones on about inconsequential shit, I wait impatiently for my hit to be the next hot topic. Twenty long minutes pass before the universe capitulates to my demand.
“Tonight, the police have arrested Gunter Klein for the murder of his brother, Friedrich, making Gunter the newest heir to the Klein fortune.”
Phoenix glances at me, eyebrows raised, as the news anchor’s monologue fades into the background. I give her an innocent shrug, then follow it up with a slow smirk. She shakes her head at me in exasperation, but it doesn’t stop her lips from quirking up.
“That wasn’t part of the assignment, Blade.”
My brows slash down in anger. “Gunter shouldn’t have cut in line in front of that nice old lady ordering coffee last week,” I counter.
“That’s it? You ruin a man’s life over that?”
I shrug, trying not to look guilty. “What? He also looked at me the wrong way?”
“Blade, how are you such an asshole to everyone? I truly fear for any innocents you come across. You’re so good to me, or is that just a family thing?”
My only response is a grunt.
I gave my heart to someone once, but she stomped on it so badly, it’s irreparable. The world at large is suffering the consequences of my pain. I don’t even try and put it into words anymore. Her face swims before my eyes again and they drift over to the ominous envelope.
Phoenix catches me watching the envelope like it’s a snake about to bite me.