Six(60)

Would telling him end me now?

“I know that you aren’t impervious to death. I know you are susceptible to drugs.”

Six stood and climbed onto the bed to lie next to me. “What drugs?”

“Three.”

Six nodded. “That explains a lot.”

“There was a cocktail of drugs in his system, including Ketamine.” I thought the word would register, but by his blank expression, it appeared it didn’t. “I don’t know what your date rape drug knowledge is, but it’s fast acting and can impair motor function and distort the senses.”

“Ingested from a drink,” he said, thinking to himself.

“You need me more than I need you,” I said, knowing for the first time it was true. “There have been plenty of times I could’ve run away, gotten help, but I didn’t.”

He reached out and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Because I’d kill you.”

“At this point, I’m trying to live as long as I can. Therefore, I don’t want to piss your psychotic ass off.”

“You push my buttons constantly.”

I let out a little laugh. “Yeah, but that’s fun. You make it too easy.”

“Why are you such a sarcastic pain in my ass?”

I shrugged. “Sarcasm is my defense mechanism, so…shut up.”

One corner of his mouth twitched up. “I should punish you for that.”

“Yeah, Mr. Killer, what are you going to do?”

“Hmm.” He looked around the room as he tried to come up with something. “I could f*ck you.”

“Pfft, that’s no punishment.”

“No, but I just killed five guys and now I want to f*ck your brains out.”

My brow scrunched. “Is that a side effect?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

“I thought you were hungry.” We never did get to eat before those dickwads showed up.

“After.” He smacked my ass, making me jump.

“Fine, but I’m just going to lie here because the day’s shit wore me out.”

“Undo your jeans.”

I quirked a brow before reaching down and flicking the button and drawing the zipper down. His hands wrapped around the waistband, then yanked my jeans and panties over my hips and ass.

They weren’t all the way off, just down enough to expose the necessary areas.

“You’re determined,” I said as he pulled my hips up and back, forcing me onto my knees.

He flexed his hips against my ass, letting me feel just how turned on he was. Hard cock straining against his jeans, ready to fill me in all the ways I loved.

“Mmm, f*ck.”

His hand smacked across my ass and made me jump again. A few seconds and the sound of a zipper later, there was another smack, but with his cock.

“Just wet enough,” he said as he rubbed the tip along my slit.

Even with as many times as he’d f*cked me, the feeling of his cock pressing in, spreading my *, filling me completely, made my eyes roll back and my mouth fall open.

“Fuck.”

Leaning over, he pressed his chest to my back, a loud moan moving through him, vibrating against me. One hand slipped around my waist, running up between my breasts and resting around my neck. He straightened back up, pulling me with him.

“You’re right,” he whispered into my ear as he rocked his hips in small thrusts. “I do need you more than you need me.”

A moan crawled out of me as his cock rubbed my walls, lighting up every nerve, sending a tingling shiver from my head all the way down my spine.

His breath was hot against my neck as he nipped and licked. Moans slipped from my lips with each increasingly strong drive of his cock. The pleasurable grip of his fingers tightened around my neck. What was a light, guiding hold became constrictive as his muscles tensed.

Trembling took hold as my body shook in clenching convulsions, my eyes unfocused and mouth open in a silent scream as I shattered in his arms. * pulsing quakes of my orgasm sent him over the edge, his hips slamming against my ass as he bottomed out, groaning against my skin. I felt his powerful dick twitches as he emptied all the way inside me.

My head fell back against his shoulder, arms lax at my sides as he sat back on his haunches, our hard breaths in time as aftershocks pinged through me.

“Hungry now?” I asked between breaths.

“Famished.”

My stomach rumbled. “I want tacos.”

“Okay.”





The next morning I woke and sat straight up in the bed. Sunlight filtered in through the sheer curtains, lighting up the entire room.

The bed was empty, as was the room. My mouth stretched open in a yawn as my arms did as well, my back arching with a groan.

Stupid bed.

It was as bad as every other hotel, minus the one in Paris.

The only sounds were of cars and people on the street below. The door to the bathroom was open, but it was silent inside.

I stood and walked in, confirming something I was finding hard to believe—I was alone. Turning, I surveyed the room. Everything was in order, all of our bags, including all of his weapons.

My sleep addled brain attempted to figure it all out as I sat on the toilet, then went about my morning rituals before jumping into the shower.