Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Isla

H ugging Miss Murder Mittens to my chest, I watched as the guys brought in all the stuff I'd kept at the hotel room, including my go bag filled with cash and other things. They'd grabbed everything I'd need for my beloved pet, too, and I was grateful for that. Ms. Mittens was the only thing in this world who loved me, and who I loved in return.

Butcher shut the door and turned to face me, making me wonder if that had somehow changed. Was there now someone else who loved me? Because he was looking at me in a way I didn't recognize. A way that made my stomach all fluttery. I felt there was only one way to respond to this.

"Ow! What was that for?" Butcher asked, rubbing his knee where I had kicked him.

"You know why," I said.

His blank expression was enough to make the flutteries go away, for now .

"I don't want to take over your room," I said, breaking the heavy silence. "I could-"

"You're staying here. With me," he replied, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

"Okay." I looked around, unsure what to say. Stupid flutters were already back. I didn't even know what these feelings were that were inside of me. How was I supposed to voice them? Besides, it wasn't possible to fall in love with a man in just a couple of days. Right? Especially when that man had kept you tied up for most of that time. Even I wasn't that messed up... Was I?

Not that I could blame him. I was dangerous and he had been on my hit list at the time. "Thank you for getting my things. And for bringing me Murder."

"No problem." His eyes flicked down to the bobcat. "How did you end up with her?"

"Oh. One of my marks was an exotic animal poacher." I gave him a wicked smile. "He had her in a cage as a little kitten, waiting for her to grow up just to hunt her. That was one of the few targets I actually took pleasure in killing."

He cocked his head, studying me. "Who hired you to do that job?"

I gave him an innocent look. "I have no idea."

He snorted. "Okay, fine."

Shrugging, I petted Murder on the head, listening to her purrs. She was pretty self-reliant and didn't mind when I left her alone to hunt my marks, but I'd left written instructions with the hotel about what to do with her if my reservation came to an end and I didn't renew it. Not that they knew I had a bobcat in the room, but they would have found out if I died and didn't come back for her. There was a local wildlife sanctuary here who would take her in. I'd already contacted the woman in charge about taking in Murder if anything ever happened to me. "Client confidentiality," I explained with a shit-eating smile.

"That's not a thing."

"It is. "

"For a doctor, sure, but not for an assassin." He arched a brow at me.

"How many assassins do you know?"

He shrugged. "Never bothered to get to know them before I killed them."

Murder struggled in my arms, giving a soft cry. I let her down so she could start exploring her new area.

Butcher watched her with distrustful eyes.

"I should clean those up," I offered, pointing at the scratches on his arms.

He looked down at them, then looked at me suspiciously. Probably trying to decide which would hurt worse, me or leaving them like they were. Making up his mind he crossed the room into the bathroom. He came back a few minutes later and handed me a container filled with medical supplies. He sat down on the bed next to me, watching me with those intense eyes.

I tried to ignore him. Tried to ignore my racing heart. This was all new to me. I didn't help people. Or live with them, which is what we were basically doing if I was going to be staying here with him. I had sex, got some stress relief, and went back to my solitary life. It was only now, after being around Butcher's family for a few days, that I was beginning to see how lonely my life was. I swallowed as I focused on his arms, refusing to look up into his eyes.

My entire system was in chaos, and I didn't know how to fix it. I wasn't even sure what would help. I reached out with the cloth he'd brought and dabbed away the blood that had dried onto his skin. He had tattoos covering his forearms and hands. They were colorful and gorgeous. When I'd been studying his file, I never would have imagined that I'd be touching them. Once the wounds were clean, I dabbed on some antibacterial ointment. "Okay." I awkwardly patted his arm.

My hands had shaken through the entire process. I was a professional assassin who had killed a long list of people but being near this man made me tremble. It was ridiculous, but I couldn't seem to do anything to stop it.

"You're not going to clean the others? "

I met his eyes for the first time since I started touching him. "What others?"

His lips tipped upward in a sinful smile. And then he shrugged off his cut, setting it gently aside on the bed, and before I could say a word, he reached behind him and pulled his shirt off.

Oh, sweet baby Jesus.

Those tattoos on his forearms went all the way up to his shoulders and continued down onto his chest. His washboard abs were devoid of colorful ink, but they really didn't need it to stand out. I was staring, wide eyed at miles of muscles and ink. I'd seen him before, of course, as he'd slept without his shirt for the last few nights, but there was something different about seeing him sitting there half naked now. I knew the entirety of his back was covered as well. I think the difference was that this was my opportunity to touch.

Before, when he'd fucked me, I'd been on my stomach, busy holding myself up so I didn't get a chance to run my hands over him. Afterward, I'd been too angry at being tied up. But now? There wasn't any anger to hide behind. No guilty feelings from having taken a contract for his life.

It was just him, and me. Well, and Ms. Mittens, but she was busy rolling around on a pile of dirty clothes in the corner. She was strange about liking her scent to be on things. I wasn't about to explain to Butcher that she only did that with things she considered to be hers, which meant she was claiming him. I'd only ever seen her do that with my things. She didn't usually care for other people. It was why we got along so well.

Picking the cloth back up, I stood and started to move toward the bathroom. A strong hand gripped my wrist, pulling me to a stop.

"Where are you going, Isla?"

This man. I wondered if he realized the chokehold he had on me. He wasn't charming and smooth the way Toxic was. He was rough and gruff and often looked pissed off. And I seemed to like that. Far too much. I might try to kill him again later just to see the fire light up in his eyes… Just for fun, of course. I wouldn't put my whole effort into it or anything .

"I need to wash out the cloth," I said, holding my other hand up to show him the blood-streaked material. Really, I just needed a moment to breathe. A second away from him so I could gather my thoughts and hopefully get control of myself.

He didn't release me. Instead, he pulled me closer.

"Butcher-" His name ended on a yelp as he tugged me onto his lap and wrapped those massive arms around me.

"Stay."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't an order. It was a request. One he didn't seem completely comfortable making. My heart softened. "These need to be cleaned," I told him. "They'll get infected."

"Later."

"Butch-" This time his name ended on a moan as he kissed me. His mouth moved slowly against mine, his tongue teasing my lips and the roof of my mouth. It wasn't rushed or heated. It was soft. Languid. Like we had all the time in the world. Like he'd been waiting for this very moment.

I had a choice. I could push him away. Demand that nothing happen between us while we worked together to rid the looming threat in our lives. Or... I could take full advantage of having access to a drop-dead gorgeous man for the foreseeable future. Soooo…I really didn't have a choice did I?

It wasn't hard to tell what my body wanted. My nipples were already hard little points beneath my bra and my pussy clenched as he deepened the kiss.

Fine. But we can't fall in love with him , I warned myself.

Dropping the cloth, I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave in to the pleasure. To him.

His hands ran up and down my back as our tongues danced together, each of us fighting for dominance. Our kiss was no longer slow, or soft. I shifted on his lap, straddling him, and groaned when I felt his hard length between my legs.

He pulled away, panting, and looked at me. His hazel eyes were darker, his pupils dilated, and his lips were wet and parted. "You're so damn beautiful. "

My heart stuttered and my eyes widened. No one had ever told me that before him. It threw me for a loop. The urge to tell him he was too was there, but that would just sound stupid. Though he was. The man was beautiful in a masculine way. Instead, I kissed him again. Raking my teeth over his bottom lip, I reached between us and grabbed his belt buckle.

He caught my wrist, stilling me. "Not so fast." He gave me a wicked grin. "Not this time. This time, I'm going to savor you."

"What-" I didn't get the time to ask what he meant.

His lips latched onto my neck, right where it met my shoulder, and he sucked. Hard. It was like a direct line to my pussy, which flooded with wetness. His free hand went under my shirt and moved upward, pushing the material along with it. When his fingers slid beneath the cup of my bra, he bit down on my shoulder and tweaked my nipple.

I moaned and arched into him, wanting more. I'd never been one to be particularly vocal during sex, but everything was different with him. The noises fell from my mouth of their own accord and I wasn't sure if I should be worried by them.

"So fucking sexy," he murmured, releasing my nipple and pulling his hand from my shirt. He twisted and dumped me from his lap so fast, my heart leapt.

I landed on my back on his bed and watched as he slowly climbed on, eyes roving over me.

"Take your shirt off," he ordered.

I lifted my upper body and grabbed the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. Before I could finish, he was there, doing it for me. Patience didn't seem to be his strong suit. I smiled even as my bra quickly followed, then my pants. My socks and shoes were gone just as quickly and I realized I was laid out on the bed for him like an offering.

"Now these." His fingers traced the band of my panties and I squirmed.

I was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was still mostly dressed and I was bare before him. "Not fair."

He quirked a brow at me. "Fair? "

"I'm naked and you're not."

His grin was feral and did strange things to my insides. "I don't play fair." He leaned down, his face a breath from mine, and whispered, "And neither do you." Then his tongue was back in my mouth and I forgot what we were talking about as he kissed me long and deep.

My fingers threaded through his hair, tugging, as his lips trailed kisses along my jaw. His hands were everywhere, cupping my breasts, then gliding over my hips. He didn't touch my pussy though. He teased me with his fingers sliding over the top of my panties and brushing my thighs, but never quite giving me what I wanted.

He sucked one nipple into his mouth and I cried out. My hips rose up, seeking the friction I desperately wanted, but he ignored me.

"Please," I gasped.

"Hmmm?" He looked up at me, his fingers pinching my other nipple.

I moaned and he chuckled.

"You need something?" he asked, moving to the other breast.

"More," I managed. "I need more."

"More, what?" His tongue flicked the sensitive peak and my core clenched.

"I need you to fucking touch my pussy, Butcher," I snapped, losing my patience.

"Good girl." His tongue trailed down my stomach and he hooked his fingers under the sides of my panties, pulling them down. I lifted my hips to make it easier, then he was sliding them over my feet and tossing them over one brawny shoulder.

I expected him to dive in, but instead he sat back and looked down at me, his hands rubbing up and down my thighs. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he whispered, his expression almost reverent.

Shaking my head, I tried—through my lust hazed mind—to figure him out. He was a brutal killer. Which wasn't a red flag. At least not for me. But he also gave out compliments like they were candy. I wasn't sure how to react to them. To him. The only thing people had ever complimented me on was my ability to kill, which he also seemed to like. But being called beautiful? It made me uncomfortable almost as much as it made my insides melt.

"Stop thinking," he ordered.

"Huh?"

"I can practically hear the gears turning. Stop thinking. Be here. With me. Right now."

I blinked, realizing I'd spaced out. A slow smile spread over my face. "You're demanding." I liked it. I wasn't used to men taking control. That was my job. But maybe, only with him, I could learn to let go.

"I'm an asshole," he told me with a shrug. "That's just part of it."

"Hmm. Okay, asshole."

He chuckled and the sound rumbled through me. I felt it between my legs.

"Now," he said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "If you'll stop thinking so damn much, I can eat your pussy."

"By all means. Don't let me stand in your way." My voice was breathless with anticipation.

With a chuckle, he dropped down between my legs. His tongue slid through over my pussy and I moaned. My hips came up, my hands going to his head to keep him in place.

"More," I groaned.

This time his chuckle vibrated against my skin and my eyes dropped close. His hands clamped around my thighs, his fingers digging in as he ate me. I couldn't keep still.

When his tongue hit my clit I groaned from the wash of pleasure. "Oh fuck," I hissed.

He worked his tongue and lips, teeth and fingers over my pussy and it was too much. My thighs began to shake. He slid one long finger inside me and made a motion that had my back arching. The sensations were too much. Too good. He used his free arm and anchored it over my hips, pinning me down to the bed as his tongue swirled around my clit.

He teased and tormented, bringing me to the peak, only to slow or change the rhythm, forcing me to start again. It was hell. It was heaven.

I wanted to claw his eyes out, but I was too busy fisting the blankets and sheets. Too busy trying to catch my breath as he worked my body as though he'd known me forever. "Stop," I growled when he slowed once more.

I felt his smile more than saw it, but he listened for once. He went back to circling my clit and thrust a second finger into me.

"Yes," I gasped. "Butcher!" His name was a scream as I exploded.

"Fuck," he muttered, the fingers of his free hand digging into my hip while he held me still.

I was going to have bruises everywhere, but I didn't care. The orgasm crashed through me and it was like being hit by lightning. My whole body seized and released. I felt boneless.

His mouth left my pussy and he was standing up, shedding his boots and jeans. Then he was there, naked, his cock jutting out, the head red and already dripping with pre-cum.

I licked my lips as I watched him. Reveling in the endorphins as his big body covered mine on the mattress.

I clamped my thighs around his hips, winding an arm around the back of his neck and jerking him down for a kiss. I enjoyed the way we wrestled with each other as we made love. My inside voice snorted in amusement at ‘make love.' A yelp broke my words off as he slammed inside me.

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to stare into those mesmerizing eyes of his. "I fucking love how mouthy you are. How talented you are." I knew he meant at killing. He pulled back and snapped his hips forward, filling me. My groan of appreciation was swallowed up by another kiss. When he broke it, he licked my face, and sank his teeth into my jaw.

I jerked away from his bite, scowling at him. "That hurt!"

"But you liked it."

I paused at that and considered his words. He was right. The little bite of pain was only enhancing the pleasure I was feeling.

He caught my wrists as I shoved at his chest and pinned them to the mattress. He grinned down at me as he ground our hips together. "I already told you I'm an asshole, Terror. I'm used to doing whatever I want. It's something you'll have to get used to while you're with me."

It was almost like he wanted to say something else, but held back. I didn't question it because he started fucking me and there was no way for me to hold back against the onslaught of sensations he was bringing to my body.

"I can't," I cried as he filled me over and over with his cock. It was hitting places that made fireworks explode behind my eyes, but I wasn't sure I could climax again. It was too overwhelming.

"You can do it." His eyes bored into mine. "Give me another."

"Fuck!"

"Do it," he growled. "That's it. Just like that." He was reading my body and knew I was giving in to his demands.

Some piece of me knew he'd just keep fucking me until I did what he wanted. Not that I was ready to complain yet. I already knew what he was going to be like. He was possessive, and territorial, a complete dick, but he would take care of any woman he loved like she was the most precious thing in the world. When he wasn't ordering her around anyway.

"Now, Terror."

My whole body bowed and I screamed his name.

He thrust into me one last time, his whole body freezing as he came, his cock pulsing deep inside of me.

I opened my eyes and stared at him. We were both panting. Sweat gleamed on his skin. He was still inside of me, our bodies still joined.

He dropped his forehead to mine, his breath hot against my face.

"Damn it," I sighed.

"What?"

"Nothing," I muttered, because it was too late. I'd forgotten to remind him about a condom. Too wrapped up in him to think clearly. I was going to have to figure out a way to keep my head from getting all foggy around him because we were playing with fire. I tracked my cycle religiously, so I was sure we were fine for now, but it wouldn't take long before I'd be in deep shit if he kept coming in me. "Why am I here, Butcher? Why do you insist on helping me?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer."

"Terror," he said, lifting his head and looking down at me.

"Yeah?" I wasn't sure how I felt about the nickname he'd given me, but that wasn't what was important here.

"Stop asking questions you don't want the answer to." When I narrowed my eyes on him, he shrugged. "You're not ready."

When I opened my mouth to argue, he kissed me. My eyes widened when I felt him growing hard inside me once more. When he began to move, I moaned. Could a girl die from too many orgasms?