Chapter 1

ELI

Igasped as he slammed my back against the solid concrete wall. Every part of my body ached, but I didn't care as long as he was touching me.

It was fast and dirty and so wild that all I could hear were our pants and needy moans in the dim light as he tore at me.

"You are such a fucking piece of shit," Caleb growled into my mouth, tongue thrusting against mine as he went for me. I didn't think my cock could get any stiffer, until he grabbed my balls, squeezing so hard stars burst behind my eyes.

That was what I needed.

We spent an hour beating the shit out of each other in the boxing ring on the other side of the door before it became too much. Though it was foreplay compared to what came next.

Caleb dragged me into the dirty broom closet we used to fuck. We met on the underground fighting circuits, laying into each other once a week, throwing all our hate at each other until Caleb took what he wanted, and fucked me into submission.

It was the best way to gain access to his family.

Eighteen months later, and the only thing that changed was my position. Instead of some guy fighting for money in black market gambling dens, I'd been invited to serve as a bodyguard at the main Donelli compound in Tucson, giving Caleb a backstage pass to my ass.

My back arched instantly, and he pressed his teeth against my neck, his short hair rough against my cheek, biting me before he ripped his nails up my bare thigh. He found the hem of my gym shorts, tugging before shoving his palm against my cock.

"Look at you, you little bitch. You're already so fucking hard and I haven't even touched your ass."

His tongue scoured the bite like he was feasting on me. All I could do was wildly pound into him as my blunt fingers dug into the thick muscle of the arm that pinned my waist to the wall. He bore down on me, keeping me fixed as he drew a line up to my ear with his lips.

Both of us had cuts all over our bodies, along with fresh bruises and fucked up knuckles, still bleeding in our frenzy. We both wore gym shorts, and were already so hot that our blood and sweat mixed as we writhed together.

A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, covered in cobwebs, along with the dust that blanketed the thin metal shelves lining the small room. The only place that was clean was the wall Caleb and I fucked against every day.

It was easy to get away with it. Other guys used the gym, but no one had looked at the cleaning supplies for months. Tucked away in a dark corridor, the freezing closet was the perfect place to exhibit our rage.

"You're such a fucking slut, Eli," Caleb said before he bit my earlobe. I cried out in pain, though it only made me harder. I needed his hate to keep me sane.

He gripped me tightly, the harsh sting of tension as he moulded his fingers around my cock nearly had me coming.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" he said, a sneer twisting his voice. "This is why you sucked my cock last night? So I'd treat you like a fucking prize?"

What I wanted was him. With every furious second, he tore me apart and threw me back together again. I was his to shape, to fuck with, however he wanted.

That's why I got down on my knees for him last night. Because he was one of two things that made me feel as if I was worth something in this dark world. Killing his family wasn't enough, I needed pain.

I was meant to be his bodyguard. I was supposed to protect him. But I left for three days on a job for Caleb's father, the head of the family, Sam Donelli. I got back last night. Before that, I hadn't left Caleb for more than a day since I'd been assigned to guard him six months ago.

Undercover didn't mean fucking the son of your main target. It didn't mean picking off members of the Donelli family when I had the chance. And it didn't mean lying to my handlers so I could stay undercover longer and add more tallys to my scorecard as I murdered each Donelli in cold blood.

I had to take the job. Not just to earn Sam Donelli's trust, but so I could get to Carlos Donelli; Sam's brother, the head of the Donelli branch in Phoenix, and the man who murdered my best friend.

His drug problem made it a simple task. All I had to do was inject him with enough heroin to kill a gorilla and sit as he wheezed, struggling, until silence took him. I had to murder his bodyguard to get to him, but it was a quick slash across the throat and he went down. It had been five months since I'd killed a Donelli before I left. My body was singing with a mix of pure elation and numb grief at finally watching him die, and aching loneliness over how deeply I missed my friend.

Which was why, as soon I got back, I dragged Caleb into our shitty broom closet and fell to my knees just to taste him again.

I jolted under him as he squeezed at my cock, nearly destroying me with another harsh bite to my neck. The pain was a relief burning through me, and I grit my teeth, thrusting into Caleb's hand as he moaned against me. I was so hot and hard that I didn't care how desperate I sounded.

"I sucked your cock so I could see what a weak ass little bitch you are after all," I gasped as he shoved his knee between my thighs, opening me up for him.

He paused against me, and I knew I was in for it. My body responded, all my muscles tightening as I waited to see how he would react. Not just with his rock solid cock, flush against my thigh, but his anger. It beat off of him like a furious drum, and I drew it in, like I had with every drop of his cum last night.

He pulled back, rising above me. He had at least half a foot on me, but in the ring, I was faster, more precise. Caleb swore he didn't need a bodyguard, though I won most of our fights unless he got a punch in quickly.

The wall supported me as I swallowed the spit left in my mouth from his kiss. 6'5", two-hundred-and-eighty pounds, brown hair cut short, a thick jaw and a mouth that was perfect for keeping me subdued. His nose had been broken so many times it bent at two angles, making his furious grey eyes more vivid. He was huge, and I could still take him on in the ring.

It was another reason he couldn't stand me. I only lost in the broom closet, and Caleb didn't know how much of a win it really was for me.

Even though my neck burnt, I wanted his teeth back on me. I wanted him to tear my fucking skin off so he could see how I belonged to him.

"You fucker," Caleb growled, glaring at me, his chest pressed close, his heart next to mine. "You think you're so fucking smart, don't you?" I buried my hand in his hair, grabbing just enough of it in a vicious grip that my palm stung.

"Smarter than you." I grinned.

Eyes blazing, his pupils blown, I didn't even give him a chance to breathe as I pushed at the back of his head and smashed his lips onto mine.

I kissed him with everything I had, pouring my twisted desires into him. I was so in love with him that I didn't care if the guys we worked with saw the marks on my throat. They thought I was hooking up with a whore that lived ten miles away, on the edge of Tucson. They had no idea I was the real whore.

I was so ruined inside that I needed Caleb to remind me I was nothing. My daughter was the other person who gave me a reason to pursue my goal. Because of her, I still fought, but I could never go back to her, not with the darkness that stalked me since my wife was murdered. If I was going to keep her safe, death was my only option. I'd kill as many of the Donelli's as I could, and then myself, and she would grow up in a happy world, where the name Donelli meant nothing to her.

Caleb destroyed my senses, replaced all my harsh truths with his anger so I could feel alive in these brief moments with him

But I also needed Caleb to die.

Pushing thirty-five, I was six years older than him, though I was the one who always surrendered. I held him against me, making sure to incite him further. I wouldn't let him let me go until he gave me what I wanted.

Even kissing him was a betrayal to both him and my wife. If he ever found out who I really was, he would kill me instantly.

"You're gonna pay for that, you little slut," he said as he slapped my bare shoulder over a young bruise, pain spiking in my skull.

My eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head. The harsher he was, the more I needed him.

Caleb struggled against me, tugging on my cock, trying to bat my hands away, but there was no way I was releasing him when I could taste his rage. He was vibrating through me, our teeth clacking, saliva spreading across our lips. It was messy and ugly and so good I thought I was drowning.

Still stroking me, his hand shifted to push his cock against mine. Then he was the one gasping under me as he rubbed us both through our shorts.

He dragged his fingers up the high V of my hips. A gentleness rushed between us as his kisses slowed and a moan fell from him, so much sweeter than any I'd had for months. Caleb gave up, letting me take control of the kiss, letting me ravage and show him how much I wanted him.

He wasn't supposed to do this. I wanted his rage, his hate. I wanted him to give it all to me, to punish me for what I'd done two nights ago, to prove I was really alive after I murdered his uncle with an empty heart.

I couldn't stop myself, not when he ground his cock against me. I softened with him, and suddenly, we weren't fighting. He was giving himself to me, a powerful snarl booming from him while he also trembled under me. He had to stop with that shit.

Screams echoed in the back of my mind, ones I heard every night as I lay in bed. My wife, begging for help, crying out for me as Caleb's uncle, Wyatt, forced himself on her repeatedly. His son, Bruno, kept me smashed to the floor with a boot on my back, making me watch before he had his turn with her. They wanted to know how much information we had collected when we were tracking drug shipments out of Arizona, and it was so minor considering how wide the Donelli's scope was.

Like a starving man, Caleb drank me in, pressing harder and harder against me as I sucked his bottom lip. I dented his back with rough fingers and he thrust against my cock through our thin gym shorts until I had to leave the kiss to raise my chin, scrabbling for air.

I wanted Caleb to churn my dark rage, remind me what I really was, not to indulge me with his passionate need.

I grabbed his arms, shoving him off me, glaring at him. I loved that I was sick enough to be so addicted to him that I could forget why I was in this closet with him in the first place.

If he behaved. If he treated me like a slut. If he kept himself in check and didn't give me the chance to openly love him.

"You're not in charge here," he said, throwing himself back against me in seconds, rubbing his cock on my thigh.

Heat flew through my body like one of Caleb's punches as he met me with hooded eyes.

"Says who?" I snapped at him, digging my nails into solid arms, with no give to his skin.

"Says your fucking cock." He smirked before throwing himself back into me.

The back of my head whacked against the concrete and I gasped, no time to catch my breath as he kissed me. Whether it was my mouth or my ass, I needed him to fill me until I screamed.

My handlers from the FBI were threatening to pull me out, even though I was running the operation. I was only meant to be undercover for six months, but it had taken me that long just to get the Donelli's trust. I had to work carefully, hide my kills. Only two more family members left, then I could finally die, like I was meant to three years ago when Martha was murdered.

Every brush from Caleb's lips was like spitting on the memory of my wife, the life we lived, and the daughter we made together. It made the pain of living more intense. With Caleb, my bloody world vibrated, and I loathed him for it.

"You're such a nasty little slut for me, aren't you, Eli? You'd do anything for my cock."

I groaned as he descended on me, but it wasn't enough. His warm skin had to be melded with mine. I'd do anything to feel him inside me again.

I dropped my hands straight to his ass. He grunted as I grabbed his waistband, tugging at his shorts. His ass was as hard as the rest of him, and I followed the waistband around his hips to push it down over his dick, finally gripping his cock like I needed.

We both moaned, the sound lost between us as I brought him closer to me, making sure he could see the look in my eye as I kneaded his ass and stroked his cock. He shuddered under me and I knew I could take him if I wanted to. But I'd rather be thrown onto the ground, stepped on, beaten. I wanted the pain.

"Do you like me rubbing your ass, Caleb?" I laughed, goading him on. "Look how easily you fit into my hands. Like your bitch ass was made to be fucked."

Lust burned through me at the thought of fucking him, of taking my anger out on him. He wouldn't let me, and I could lose myself if he gave me that much control. I could see traces of Wyatt and Bruno whenever I looked at his face, which made it even more fucked up than it needed to be.

Caleb snapped, ready to go at me again, and my stupid body trembled in anticipation. Not even killing brought me the same level of satisfaction as watching fury mar Caleb's face.

He grit his jaw as he tugged on my cock again and I lost it. I was trying to remain composed, but there was no way I could do it when he towered over me like this.

"Mine too," I murmured against his lips, shifting my hand so I could pull his cock to mine.

"Shut up," he growled as he threw himself at me so he could take my lips again as I squeezed his ass. I kept him close, and he let me, jerking against me. It was just my shorts separating us now, and they had to go.

"Caleb!" I rasped against his lips, meeting his anger head on. He knew what I wanted.

Both palms on my waist, he dragged my hips off the wall, my back bending, crushing my cock against his. I grunted as he tore at my shorts, yanking them off my ass so he could grab me.

I didn't have a second to breathe as he scoured my lips, both of us panting against each other, our breaths merging, tasting his desire. It was good. It was so fucking good, feeling his hot cock thrusting against me. Taking me down, taking me out.

Each thrust made him more furious, until I was completely pinned to the wall, my shoulders scraping on coarse concrete, barely able to hold on to him when he was kissing me so violently. The sting from his bites on my neck was nothing compared to the cut of his teeth against my tongue as we demolished each other.

I was never going to survive this.

His hands squeezed my ass cheeks and I buckled under him. One finger ran from my tailbone through my crack. No mercy as he pushed his finger against my hole.

"Who's the little bitch ass now?" he spat out, forcing his finger inside me. With no lube, no anything, the aching stretch was perfect. The resistance, the pain, the way I winced as he laughed; I needed more of his cruelty.

He grunted as he thrust into me. One knuckle, then two. I cried out as he went farther, clinging to him, trying to split my legs, give him more room to grind against me, but the shorts around my thighs kept me fixed in place.

I moaned as he pulled his finger out; dry, aching, and my hips jolted.

"That's what you get for being a mouthy little bitch," he said against my lips.

"Is that the best you've got?" I groaned as he entered me again, harder this time, his thick finger dragging against my ass, spikes of pain shooting out. I deserved it. I deserved every ache.

My legs nearly gave way as his tongue edged the seam of my lips, bullying me into opening for him again with a moan. It was the smallest moments like that, those pieces of softness, they were what truly destroyed me.

My guilt burst through me, and I broke the kiss, rocking my head back. My wife's screams and Wyatt's jeers as he raped her, merged with Wyatt's terrified wheezing as I leaned over him and savored how slowly he died with my knife in his belly. My first kill; cold, heartless, no joy or pleasure. Just the simple knowledge that the man who killed my wife would never breathe again.

That's how it was each time I tortured and killed someone. When I ate, when I woke up, when I trained with other agents. I was an empty, hollow form that served one purpose; killing brought me back to life. Once the main Donelli family were gone, I could finally rest in peace.

Until Caleb. Who's slightest sweet touch amongst the madness of our hate set me off and reminded me of the man I used to be.

"Look at me!" he snarled, ripping his finger from my ass. My chin dipped and I met his wild glare. Panting, watching, my fingers twitched against his asscheeks. I ached with the need to show him what was really happening beneath my skin, how much he made me feel, and how much I hated him for it.

"You think now's the best time to be fucking with me?" he growled against my lips, grinding his cock against mine so slowly I would have fallen over if he hadn't pinned me against the wall.

I was so close already. All he needed to do was call me a slut again, and I was sure I'd come.

He was my next target. Heir to the Donelli family, one of their top enforcers, and Sam Donelli's only child. I'd been picking off those closest to Sam, working further in to his inner circle, to make him suffer for longer. I hoped killing his son would crush him, so he could know what it was like to lose the person most precious to him too.

Now would be the easiest time to kill Caleb, when he had no idea what was happening. Every time I imagined standing over him, blood pooling around his body as he stared up at me with glassy eyes, bile rose in the back of my throat. It wasn't hard to see that he was the only Donelli I couldn't kill.

"Caleb," I sighed as I clutched at him in a poor moment of weakness. I wanted to tear him apart, ruin him like he ruined me.

I shuddered as he pressed against my ass, pleasure incinerating me.

"What, you done? Already?" He smirked at the way I trembled under him. "You can't even fucking hold it when I finger your ass. What you gonna do when I fuck you, eh?"

If I wasn't trapped against the wall, I would have dropped right there. Straight to my knees and sucked his cock to make him wet enough to fuck me.

My friend Harley used to joke that it wasn't an addiction unless you were willing to suck a dick for it. And I went so far beyond that. Obsession barely covered it.

Harley was another agent killed by the Donelli's, another soul who needed retribution.

Caleb's other hand left my hip. He thrust it up to my mouth with venom pouring from him. "Spit," he said, a stuttered wisp of air covered me, too soft for a demand that harsh.

"Do it yourself," I bit back.

"Fucking spit or I'm fucking you dry. Your choice," he said as he ran his other hand from my ass to my thigh, pushing my shorts back up so he could grab my leg.

I kept hold of his gaze as I drew in a deep breath. I opened my lips and spat straight onto his hand, and he groaned at the sight of me. A thread formed, stringing from my mouth to his palm as he removed his hand. He didn't have to say anything about a blow job, I could see it right there in his eyes. It was so obvious what he was thinking as his hand fell away.

Tension vibrated between us as my chest heaved and he grabbed my thigh with his other hand.

"You're such a piece of shit," he growled as he lifted my knee to his hip. I took the cue, wrapping my leg around him, opening up enough for him to push his hand under my shorts, past my cock, my balls, straight to my ass. His slicked up fingers rode against my hole, and my whole body jerked as he went straight for it, shoving two fingers inside me.

"Caleb!" I choked as a wicked smile crossed his face. He knew he had me. My back arched, and I tightened my leg so my ankle hit his ass as I tried to spread myself for him.

"That's it," he murmured. "Fucking take it."

I lowered my ass for him, giving him room. I wanted him all the way in.

"I haven't fucked you for three days and your hole is still loose. Have you been playing without me?"

I pressed my lips together. I was never going to tell him I hadn't fucked anyone like this since his uncle killed my wife.

"Fuck you," I gasped as his teeth landed on my neck again. I ground against his fingers, rocking my hips, moving my hands to clasp at him and give myself more grip. One hand cupped his shoulder, forcing him away, the other stayed bunched in his hair, holding him close. He hummed against me, the material making his licks even more intense.

"Is that your way of saying you've let someone else have you?" he sneered. There was no stopping him as his tongue ran up the soft skin of my neck, and he kissed me again with a firm push of his fingers in my ass. I cried out, and he swallowed it all, giving me everything he had as his hand sped up.

"Caleb, stop," I moaned, breaking the kiss as he split my ass cheeks to get himself all the way inside me. "I can't take it." But I didn't tell him what I couldn't take. If he knew his passionate kisses were ruining me more than the painful sting of his fingers, I would reveal too much.

His mouth tore off my throat as he brought his head back to me. "You seriously gonna come already, you little bitch? You can't even take me rubbing your ass without coming everywhere." He laughed, cruel and cutting as he pulled his fingers from me.

I should have stayed silent, ignored the need hammering inside me, my fucked up longing for one of the men who destroyed my family.

"You want to come, Eli?" He was panting, his gaze eating into me, filled with knowing hunger as he smirked. "You think you deserve to come after leaving me without a hole to fuck for three fucking days?"

Like this, I could pretend fucking him was worth it, as if this affair wouldn't end with a bullet in my head.

He notched his hips back to clench my cock again, pushing his chest against mine. Too hard, and too fast. "Fuck, yes," I sighed, lifting my ass off the wall to get to him. I groaned as he squeezed, my cock aching with the pressure of his hold. "Yes, just let me come, Caleb."

"No. Not a fucking chance. You come when I'm ready. And I'm not letting you come until you're crying for it."

He tugged his fingers from my ass, and I hissed at the sharp sting.

"Fuck you, Caleb." I gasped. Releasing my inhibitions, even briefly, always led to danger, and this was no different. "Fuck off with that shit."

Caleb sucked in a harsh breath and I tilted my head back, looking to the dank ceiling so I didn't have to see his face. Until his hand whipped away from my cock and I let out a moan of protest.

Caleb shuddered as he ground against me, and he caught my eyes again. Time froze as we stilled together, my heart in my throat, awareness flooding me.

He couldn't say anything. If he said even the slightest word that made this more than fucking, I'd run. No mission, no revenge for my family. I couldn't stay with him if this became anything more than sex. I was too broken to survive, and I had to kill him more than I needed his love.

"Godammit, Eli," he said, all the emotion I'd been trying to escape filling his voice. "How the hell am I meant to cope when you look at me like that?"

I had no time to think as his lips crashed into mine again, another burning wave of lust hitting me deep. But it was a distraction. It wiped away his words. and the possibility that came with them.