Primal Pursuit

“Found anything interesting?”

I gasp and spin.

Usually, I’ve got an inkling of his approach, but I got so absorbed in my snooping, I got caught red-handed.

“No. And you said I could look.”

He raises a brow as a bead of water rolls down from his dark, wet hair, like a tear, down his face.

His lean muscles are perfect, and the fierce wolf on his chest makes me want to taste his shower-fresh skin.

“That’s a very generous interpretation of my words, Rabbit.” Davian pulls his towel from around his lean hips and dries his hair.

I stare at his junk. Big. Thick. Beautiful. I don’t even realize I’m biting my thumbnail as I stare at it.

“Do you want some smelling salts? You look about ready to faint. It’s not like you haven’t fucking seen it before.” He crosses to his closet and pulls on a pair of boxer briefs. “For your delicate sensibilities. Now, go to bed. If you want to pretend you have a virtue to protect, there’s the sofa.”

“Yeah…no.” I jump into the bed as he follows. “Why don’t you have pictures of your family?”

A muscle works in his jaw as I wait for him to ask me the same question, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sighs and rubs a spot on his left brow. “Because it’s a sordid fucking tale of a low-rent crime family, Rabbit.”

On the arm nearest me, the tattoos are a winding, chaotic chain of thorns and barbed wire with what look like red, tear-like petals scattered, along with skulls and falling, screaming people. The other has images, and letters, numbers, a barcode, a whole host of things that I think might mean something. Those things extend to both hands, his back. And the black rose.

“And that?”

I’m playing with fire. I know it. But I also want to know. I want to know everything.

“The rose? It’s there to remind me how death, beauty, and violence are intertwined. How love and beauty must come with loss and death and decay. Even betrayal.”

I wait for him to ask about mine, that’s a red version of his. Again, he doesn’t.

He just breathes out and pulls me to him, settling back on the pillow, one arm around me, the other lightly drawing meaningless patterns on my arm as I rest my hand on his chest.

“If you really want to know,” he starts, “my father was a real fucking stand-up guy. I was fifteen when he killed my mom, sister, and brother. Chloe and Samuel. They were younger. I wasn’t home.”

I can’t breathe.

“It was revenge for something my mom’s parents had done to his, back when. He played the slow fucking game, waited until it would hurt the most. I came home, right when it was finished.” He inhales deeply. “I waited three fucking years. Worked my way up certain criminal outfits, and I seemed to be gifted with the ability to channel my rage and need for revenge into compartments. Into something I could use.” He stops from drawing circles on my arm. “Even then, I didn’t act rashly. I hid from him until I was protected enough. And one night, when the timing was perfect, I killed him. And every one of the fuckers who were involved in the less than savory killings of my brother, sister, and mother.” He takes a breath, and I’m struggling to keep the ache in my chest from growing.

“I’m not a good guy, Rabbit.” He strokes a thumbunder my chin so I’m looking up at him. “But I think you already knew that.”

My heart hurts for him. I can’t help it. But his words, talking about the waiting for the perfect moment…

That’s what I’m doing. Right? The same thing. I’m biding my time, and this interlude is just until the timing is perfect and I can get the information I need and then kill him.

Because I will do that.

I will.

I think.

Pressing my lips to his chest, the heat of him, the steady thump of his heart, all curl up inside me, and I slide my arm tighter around him. But it’s not enough. I want more. It seems it’s all I want when I’m around him. More.

I sit up and take off the shirt. He just watches as I slide low, under the covers, taking his boxer briefs down and pulling them off.

He throws off the quilt and looks down at me. “If you’re gonna do that, Rabbit, I think I’d like the full show.”

I take his cock in my hands and begin to lick and lave the head, slipping my tongue along the slit, then down over the fat mushroom of flesh to suck at the edge and the underside.