Aurora’s POV
I stayed on the desk, my body shaking and my breath coming in short gasps. My skin felt like it was on fire, especially where the strap had hit and where his teeth had marked my shoulder. Between my legs, I felt raw and stretched, a pulsing heat that wouldn’t go away.
I watched him. Raymond didn’t offer to help up. He didn’t lean down to kiss my forehead or tell I did well. He simply pulled away, adjusted his clothes, and walked over to the leather couch.
I watched through blurry eyes as he sat down, his legs spread wide. He pulled out a cigar and lit it. The orange glow of the lighter flickered against his face for a second before he blew a cloud of thick smoke into the air. He didn’t even look at . He was totally ignoring , as if I were just a piece of furniture he was done using.
My heart sank, hitting my stomach.
Oliver would never leave like this, I thought.
Oliver would have wrapped in his arms. He would have carried to a warm bath and whispered how much he loved . Tears pricked my eyes as the things I had just said echoed in my mind.
I want the monster. I’d choose you. I don’t want to go back.
"I didn’t an it," I whispered to the empty, dark room, though my voice was too low for him to hear.
It was just the thrill. It was the heat of the mont and the way he pushed my body until I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t actually want to leave the King. I didn’t want this cold, violent life.
Slowly, painfully, I slid off the desk. My legs felt like jelly, and I almost fell, but I forced myself to stand. I walked over to the pile of clothes on the floor and picked up my undies. Every movent made the hickey on my shoulder sting, reminding of my betrayal.
I pulled on my underwear and walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting down slowly. I stared at Raymond’s masked face. The excitent was gone, replaced by a deep, oily sense of disgust.
I was sitting in a room with a monster. This man was a killer. He was the one who took my parents from , and I had just spent the last hour begging him to ruin . I had just told my parents’ murderer that I chose him over the man who actually cared for .
I felt sick. I wanted to scream, but the room was so quiet, and Raymond just kept smoking, his green eyes hidden behind those lenses, cold and unreachable.
I looked at him, my vision still a bit blurry. My heart was pounding, but not with excitent anymore—it was with a cold, hard fear.
"I want to go ho," I whispered, forcing my voice out. "I want to go back to my apartnt."
Raymond took a long pull of his cigar, the tip glowing a bright, angry orange. He didn’t even look at as he blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.
"Chickening so soon, Little Bird?" he mocked, his voice a low, jagged rasp. "I thought you wanted the pleasure. I thought you wanted . You don’t want a second round?"
I frowned, pulling my sweater over my head to hide the red marks he had left on my skin. "I’m done. I’m tired."
"My offer still stands, Aurora," he said, finally turning those cold, green eyes toward . "I want you to be mine. My contracted submissive. I don’t share. If you sign, you belong to . Completely."
I glared at him, feeling a wave of disgust. "And if I don’t?"
He shrugged, his leather jacket creaking. "Then this is the end of the road for us. We won’t et again. I only fuck my submissives. If you walk out that door without a deal, you’re walking out for good."
I felt a sting of sha. I had just begged for this man, and now he was talking about like a business deal. I stood up, my legs still shaking. "How can I be your submissive when I don’t even know what you look like? I’ve never even seen your face."
He scoffed, a dark, dry sound. "I’ve told you about my work. I have enemies. I can’t just take the mask off because you’re curious."
I pretended to be confused, even though the truth was screaming in my head. "And what is your work, exactly? Tell ."
He leaned back, the cigar smoke swirling around his head. "Take a guess."
"An assassin?" I spat the word out like it was poison. "Is that why you’re hiding? Because you’re a killer for hire?"
I expected him to laugh it off or deny it. I expected him to say he was a bodyguard or a rcenary. But he didn’t.
"Yes," he said simply.
The air left my lungs. I swallowed hard, my throat feeling tight. I was right. I was sitting in a room with the man who had ruined my life.
"The people you kill," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Do they deserve it? Are they bad people?"
Raymond was silent for a long mont. He tapped the ash from his cigar, his movents slow and calm.
"Deserve is a strong word," he said coldly. "In my world, there are no ’good’ people. Everyone has a price on their head for a reason. Sotis they’ve crossed the wrong person. Sotis they’re just in the way of progress. I don’t ask if they are kind to their children or if they have a family waiting for them. I just do the job."
He looked at , and I could feel the ice in his stare even through the mask.
"I’ve taken fathers away from their daughters. I’ve ended lives while they were begging for rcy, crying for one more minute to say goodbye. It doesn’t move , Aurora. Blood is just part of the paycheck."
Each word felt like a knife in my chest. He was talking about my parents. He was talking about the night he broke my world, and he felt absolutely nothing.
"You’re a monster," I breathed, clutching my clothes to my chest.
"You said that was what you wanted," he reminded , his voice flat. "So, make your choice. Do you want the killer, or do you want to go back to your ’dream’ King?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers