23. Fiora

Being back at The Vault makes my body flush.

Although I ask to be taken back to my own place, Braken merely tells his driver and bodyguard Jasper to drop us off outside the old bank building. He hasn't spoken a word the entire car and helicopter ride, and still hasn't said anything, even as he inputs his door code. It's still the same code from a few days ago. I don't have time to think about what it means, as Braken turns to me and orders me inside.

I slip inside without responding, shrug off my jacket and toss it on the couch like before. The evidence of our tryst is gone. The desk is once again pristine and practically sparkling. Braken throws his coat over the back of his sofa as he heads toward the bar in the left corner of the room, leaving me standing there like a fool.

He pours himself a glass of whiskey on the rocks and only acknowledges me after taking a sip. "Care for a drink?"

"I'd rather not." My body is already hot, and I don't need another problem blocking my good judgment.

Braken sets the glass down then calmly asks, "Then care to tell me what the fuck you're doing, Fiora?"

The way he glowers at me makes me swallow. He plays with a few rings on his fingers, giving me a good look at the tattooed sleeves. Dark ink covers from his wrists to his shirt cuffs, a mix of roses and thorns that stands out against his tan skin. His brown hair now falls over his eyes, shadowing them even more. For a second, I forget what he asked, too lost in how fucking hot he is.

I come back to my senses. Who cares if he's hot when he's a dick?

"I'm finding answers." I cross my arms over my chest and return the angry stare. "Since no one wants to include me."

"Have you ever thought you're not included because you might be next?"

The question is chilling. My body goes stiff as Braken takes another swig of his drink. Of course, it's crossed my mind. Hits against crime families aren't usually one and done. I could be the next one on the chopping block, here one day and gone the next, just like Mason.

"That doesn't mean I'm just going to sit here while the murderer is still out there."

"And if they get you beforehand?" Braken pushes off the bar and begins stalking around its top, eyeing me like he's a lion, and I'm his prey. "You think you can fight off someone if they come for your throat? If they stab you from behind? If they get a jump on you and snap your neck? What about if they shoot you and leave you to bleed out on the streets of Seattle?"

He stops right in front of me, voice low and body dangerously close. "This isn't a fucking game, Fiora."

"You think I don't know that?" I shoot back. My quiet response trembles with the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "I know clearly since I was supposed to?—"

I stop. Braken eyes me curiously but gives me time to finish my sentence. I don't. Braken doesn't need to know about the guilt that keeps me up at night.

Instead, I say, "I bet you think you're in charge of me."

A shit-eating grin blooms on his face. Braken takes another step closer until our bodies are barely touching. Each slight movement makes my skin tingle.

"I am. Who was in charge of your body last time, princess? Who made you drip all over my desk? Tell me, did you go home and fuck yourself thinking of me? Did you make yourself come and scream my name?"

His husky questions go straight to my core and make it throb. Heat races up my spine, but I hold back my answer by biting my lip. He's right, but I won't let him know it.

Two can play that game.

"What about you?" I shoot back with a smirk, reaching out to grab his dick through his pants. He's already half-hard. I don't know what's come over me, but I relish the power that surges through my veins. "I wasn't the only one having fun last time, and it looks like you're enjoying the show now."

Braken's mask slips slightly when I squeeze his cock to emphasize my point. My adrenaline spikes into something hotter, deeper, and more sinister. I want to make him feel the exact same way I did two days ago. I want to push his limits and show him he doesn't own me completely.

Before he can hit me with some smartass answer, I push him back by the hips. He takes a step back until his ass hits the top of his couch. I hold his gaze as I unbuckle his leather belt, then undo the button and drag down the zipper of his slacks. His cock is fully hard now and twitches when I drag a knuckle over his boxer briefs. A little wet spot on the black fabric makes me smile, because who has the power now?

Braken lifts his hips so I can tug down his pants to his knees, but I don't do the same with his boxers just yet. His skin is covered in the same sprawling tattoos, and I trace the patterns up his thigh with featherlight touches that make his cock twitch again. Wordlessly, I get down on my knees between his legs, ready to give him a taste of his own medicine.

At the first drag of my tongue up his covered shaft, Braken exhales. With the second, he grunts. I do it again and again, until his boxers are damp with my saliva and his precum, and my mouth waters to get a taste.

I inhale as soon as his boxers are down, and I get to see his cock for the first time. This is no longer The Hunt. It's not dark. He's not masked. And he's not aggressively fucking me in the dirt.

Fuck. I knew he was big, but I didn't know it would look so damn good. Braken's dick is long and decently girthy with a hook that makes my pussy throb.

No, I need to focus. This is about revenge, not pleasure. I need to make him weak, damnit, even if my body screams to hop on his cock and make us both happy.

I circle my tongue around the tip, and Braken's exhalation is harsh and makes my core throb. I take the tip of his dick into my mouth and suck a few times until the saltiness of his precum lands on my tongue. The taste makes me moan, bobbing as I take his full length into my mouth. Apparently, that's not enough for Braken, because his hand rests on the back of my head and forces me down to take even more of him.

Fuck, I should be mad, but it's so hot.

What I can't take in my mouth, I instead wrap my hand around the base of his throbbing cock, squeezing as I lick and suck. I let out a small whine every time he thrusts his hips and fills my mouth. Thank God I don't have a gag reflex, so I take all his length.

But I won't let him control this—this is his punishment for last time.

I pop off his wet cock and shift down to take his balls into my mouth, my hand pumping in tandem. Braken must not expect it because he curses under his breath, fingers digging harder into my hair. I squeeze his cock in response, dragging my thumb over his slit and smearing his cum. I move my hand faster, sucking on his hard sacks with a smirk. He watches my every move like a hawk, shadowed and full of dark want. It takes everything in me not to rip off my panties and give all to him before I can change my mind.

Instead, I withdraw my hand and take his dick into my mouth again, speeding up my pace. I should tease and make him beg for it, but my mind is hazy with overwhelming lust. My body sings every time he grunts, or whenever his hips jerk into my mouth. I savor the taste of his early cum, nails digging into his thighs to keep them spread as I work him.

His cock throbs in my mouth and spurs me on. My mind screams at me to remember why I started sucking his dick in the first place, but it's drowned out with a harsh growl when I hollow my cheeks. It gives me a sick thrill to know I'm the one making him lose it. I'm the one in charge. I'm the one making his thighs flex, his dick twitch, and his eyes narrow with pure lust. I move even faster, the tip of his cock hitting the back of my throat with each bob and suck.

"Fuck," is all the warning he gives before he's pulling at my hair so hard I whine.

Braken explodes hot and white in my mouth, his fingers tightening in my hair and holding me close.

Fuck! I wasn't supposed to let him finish. I meant to regain a measure of control and blue ball him to high heaven. But glancing up at him, maybe I did get back some control. His forehead is sweaty, hair sticking to his skin, and his chest heaves. He inhales sharply when I swallow his cum and open my mouth, showing him there's nothing left.

"Good boy," I say and stand.

My knees are weak, and my jaw hurts, but I don't give a shit because Braken's expression is priceless. He looks absolutely gobsmacked. Maybe it's because I just sucked the life out of him, or maybe I'm the first woman to call him a good boy. Either way, I drink it in, so I'll never forget it.

I leave Braken in his office, pants still down and flaccid cock still wet. Braken might think he owns me, but I'm not going to sit back and let him lead. He may be the boss, but I'm the boss's future wife, and I have plenty more ways left to remind him.