Seven+Four (Angels of Wrath Book 6)

At first, it feels like I’m dreaming. Everything is fuzzy around the edges. A door opens and closes quietly. Then the mattress dips under someone’s weight before he spoons me. I exhale, feeling all languid and sleepy. Despite my sore throat and sense of anguish, the tension melts away as soon as Uri’s familiar scent envelops me. The weight of the arm around me isn’t as familiar as it used to be when we were kids, but it soothes me the same, and I fall into darkness.

When I open my eyes, pain hits me hard like a knife slicing my frontal lobe. The blazing sun sends another stabbing pain straight through my eye sockets. I throw an arm over my face as my stomach rolls. My throat hurts and my mouth feels dry.

Oh God, where am I? I push myself up on my elbows first, letting my heavy head adjust, then I sit. I’m in a place that I don’t know that well, but somehow recognize. Uri’s bedroom. I’m wearing one of his long-sleeve cotton shirts—it smells like him—and underneath, my blue panties. I was wearing the cream pair yesterday, wasn’t I?

There’re two pills and a glass of water on the nightstand with a note: To help with your headache.

It’s Uri’s handwriting. I swallow them down and then walk unsteadily to the ensuite bathroom. As the cold water from the basin hits my face, memories from last night come back to me in 4K resolution. Going to the bar with the guys, the two beefy men, the fight, the cocaine shower.

Oh crap, I inhaled cocaine! But what happened after that? Did I embarrass myself? Did I do something stupid? Was Uri there? Everything feels nebulous. The images are confused. My head is still hurting fiercely.

My eyes find my reflection in the mirror. I look pale. My long hair is loose on my shoulders, the corners of my mouth sting for some weird reason, and I have a small purple bruise on my neck.

My hand shakes as I hit the tap shut. Maybe one of the guys can tell me what the heck happened last night. While braiding my hair, I walk back to the bedroom to look for my phone. It’s on the dresser.

I look at the time on the screen. Nine-thirty. I should be at work. There are no missed calls from the office, from Sandy. Raph probably let him know what happened last night.

I try calling Michael.

“Sari,” he answers in a groggy voice after a couple of rings.

“Did I wake you?”

“No. It’s been an hour since I got up, but I’m still trying to get my brain going.” I know what he means. My head still feels foggy.

I start descending the stairs. “Last night was…”

“Fucking crazy!” Michael almost steals the words out of my mouth.

“My memories are fuzzy.”

“I think you and Ollie breathed a larger quantity because of your position. Even though Lori acted really out of his mind.”

He’s sort of crazy on a normal day. Cocaine must have taken him to another level of madness.

“What happened after we inhaled the drug?” I ask him. I feel the incessant urge to know.

“Mine are not very clear as well, but I remember a very weird conversation, then jumping on Raph’s back and then Uri lifting you, and you humping him…”

My broken brain freezes in front of Albert E.’s room for a moment before re-starting again too fast. “I’m sorry, wh-what? I did what?” I force down the rock inside my throat. I must have misheard him. “I humped Uri?”

“More like rubbed your dick all over his belly,” Raph deadpans, painting a vivid, horrifying picture with such a careless tone.

“You had an idiotic smile on your face.” He keeps digging my grave.

“Not idiotic, Raph! It was…sweet,” Michael tries to make me feel better, but it does the opposite. I wonder what the non-pathetic, non-deeply embarrassed people are doing today.

A memory of Uri’s dreads gleaming under the bar lights hits me, or were his hazel eyes that shiny?

“You even tried to ruffle his dreads,” Michael adds. “See? Sweet.”

“I did?” Oh, yes. I did.

“And then⁠—”

“There’s more?” I cut Raph off; apprehension leaks from my voice.

“No,” Michael replies. “I mean Uri was pretty pissed, but then you took off together all cozy…”

His words suddenly slow as my brain is bombarded by images of Uri and me in his car—X-rated images. The memories are confused and blurry and so…hot. Did I really do all that? Said all of that to Uri? Or did the drug bring one of my dirty fantasies to life? It felt so real, though. I perfectly remember his taste, the sound of his excited grunts, his fingers pumping inside me, the commanding way he drove his pierced dick down my throat.

My hole clenches, and I feel a slight sting. I swallow hard, sensing the soreness in my throat, the corners of my mouth are burning. It was real. Uri and I…

“So did something happen afterward?” Michael’s question halts my shocking train of thought.

“Can I call you back? I have the worst headache.” My voice trembles.

“Of course. Tell Uri to give you a lot of water and rest as much as you need.” The doctor in Michael quickly comes out.

After a hurried thanks, I hang up. I push Albert E.’s room door open. He’s sleeping on a fluffy bed near the big wheel, looking all cute and snuggly. Skinny pigs are usually not liked for their looks, but Albert E.’s smooth skin, the wrinkling around his legs and neck, and that fuzzy white hair on his little nose is what stole my heart the first time I saw him. He’s also very docile and social, and enjoys being with me; he even falls asleep on my lap when I work. I think of him more like a tiny dog than a guinea pig.

I check the water fountain and the level of food. Uri must have taken care of both before he left. Because he left, right? A sense of anxiousness overwhelms me. He could be in the pool or in the gun room. Can I face him after what I’ve done? I practically pounced on him. Begged to…pleasure him. But dear God that spanking felt so good.

It was the confirmation I needed. Feeling pain really turns me on. But I wonder how much further can I take it? A short laugh leaves my lips. It’s filled with relief and dread. I’ve tried so hard to push down this part of me, but I can’t simply flip a switch and be somebody else. I really am as fucked up as my brothers, maybe even more. Because, holy hell, I’ve never felt more alive than when Uri was choking me on his big dick. Those few spanks, though, weren’t remotely enough. I need more.

There’s still the possibility that the extreme ecstasy I sensed might have been caused by the cocaine. It increased the dopamine in my body, enhancing my sexual arousal and gratification. But it was Uri. Uri! Even without drugs, I’m sure the pleasure would’ve been out of this world. My body feels all tingly and ready for another round.

I bite my lower lip; the movement makes my mouth ache. My head feels slightly better as I make my way to the kitchen, but my whirling thoughts are not helping with the recovery.

No trace of Uri. In the fridge, there’s an aloe shake. A note on top reads: To help with the sore throat. Wait for me…or else.

I let out a trembling breath. Desire explodes inside my belly as I read the promise of punishment in the note. That or else at the end sends a shiver down my spine. My legs turn to jelly for a moment, and I shoot my arm out to avoid hitting the fridge frame.

A moan resounds in the kitchen—it takes me a couple of seconds to realize it came from me. There’s an urge inside me to defy his order. To provoke him into doing his worst.

The question is: would he give it to me?

I suddenly frown as another memory hits me. Did I puke in Uri’s car?

An hour later, I’m at Bear-Stone Labs.

From the record player, I can hear Chris Stapleton singing about love and whiskey—country music usually helps me concentrate. Not today. I’ve been thinking about what happened yesterday on repeat. Not seeing Uri this morning has only made me hungrier for him. I sent him a text when I left the lake house in a hurry. I didn’t come alone, Phoenix is still out there and even though I didn’t hear from them since I moved, my stalker might be lurking, as well. That’s why I called the car company Gabe uses for Lori to stop him from driving.

Uri’s reply was promising. I’ve been vibrating with excitement since I saw his text.

When I arrived at work and met Raph in the lobby, he told me Uri was at the car wash. So emptying my entire stomach on his dash and car door followed by my loss of consciousness wasn’t a drug-induced nightmare.

I’ll never accidentally inhale any kind of drug ever again in my life.

I hear the sliding door opening and then Sandy’s voice. “I’ve gathered all the mail on your table and scheduled your appointments for next week. There were some journalists camped outside, but I dispersed them. Anything else you need? Your usual tea?” he asks.

“Yes, please.” I raise my head to look at him. His hair is green now, and he’s wearing a pink suit with a cute bow around his neck. “You’re so good to me. I know I need a new assistant, but I barely have time these days.” Sandy is technically Raph’s PA, not mine. But after Clark left, he’s temporarily taken the position.

“Don’t worry. I contacted the HR department; they already gave me a list of promising candidates. The interviews will start in an hour. Do you want me to take care of it?”

“I trust your judgment. I’ll tell Raph to raise your salary.”

“He already pays me generously, but I can’t say no to that.”

“I’ll miss you, you know?” I tell him before he leaves the room.

“No, you won’t because I’ll find you a mind-fucking-blowing new PA!”

A few minutes later somebody else comes in. One of the interns judging by her blue coat.

“That’s a nice, boot-licking secretary,” she unprofessionally utters.

The way she’s looking at me is filled with interest. All the interns here seem to want to chat about my research. I push my glasses up my nose and focus on the study again. She works on another research floor, and although I let interns come into my lab from time to time, she shouldn’t be here right now.

“The test results are in,” she says, dropping a file on my desk.

“Oh, I already got them.” The numbers aren’t matching up like they should, and that’s reigniting my headache.

“Do you need something else?” she suddenly murmurs from behind me.

What I need is Michael since he’s a pathologist specializing in hematology. He’s provided essential insight and information. But I know he’s indisposed because of last night.

“No, thank you,” I reply without looking up—my eyes glued to the microscope.

“What are you doing? Can I help?” She leans forward, brushing against my back to see what I’m reviewing, unnecessarily crowding me.

“No. I need a hematologist.” I keep my voice flat, ready to push her away if she doesn’t back off this instant.

Her hand lands on the microscope near mine, her thumb touches my skin for a moment. I straighten abruptly. That fleeting contact made me uneasy.

She looks remorseful, an apologetic smile twitching her lips as I shift and turn her way. “Blood never lies, right?”

I frown at her.

“Haven’t you ever seen Dexter? The TV show,” she adds. She doesn’t move, but I still feel uncomfortable. This stalker ordeal is turning me into a jumpy monkey.

“No,” I reply.

My eyes fall to the name on her coat: Maggie Smith.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you, but I’ve been wanting to ask something for a while. Would you⁠—”

Sandy’s return stops whatever Maggie was about to say. His eyes flicker from the intern to me. He can probably see how tense I am.

“You. Out.” He tilts his head to the door while his eyes stay on the intern.

Maggie doesn’t move. The smile has dropped from her lips. Her teasing gaze has turned into a glare aimed at Sandy.

“You shouldn’t be here. Dr. Bear-Stone’s lab is inaccessible to interns,” Sandy continues, moving closer to us.

“Sorry.” The intern suddenly looks embarrassed. “I just brought the test results, that’s all.”

“It’s not your job,” the PA insists, holding up the mug filled with my hot tea. He moves between us and hands it to me.

Maggie finally takes a step back. “Dr. Crisp told me to bring them here.”

“I’ll definitely verify that. Now go back to the other interns.”

She sends me a small smile before finally leaving the room.

Sandy quickly starts tapping on his phone. “Oh, those groupies of yours. Don’t worry, you’ll never see her again after I tell Raph.”

“She didn’t do anything. I’m just edgy.”

“I can see that,” Sandy agrees, still typing on his phone. “But better let your brother work his magic. You never know.” What he means is let him fire the intern, not kill her. Sandy doesn’t know about the family side business. He’s an amazing assistant and an incredible person; he can’t be mixed up with that dangerous part of our lives.

“You really don’t need to involve Raph. That intern was just curious about my study.” I’m about to take a sip from my mug when the sight of a red package on the desk near the window stops me. Where did that come from? Is it the dildo I ordered? That was fast.

Sandy is talking on the phone with the HR department as I grab the box cutter and go to the desk to slice the tape before opening the cardboard flaps. As soon as I look inside, I know I’ve made a mistake. A pair of metal cuffs and a picture of me with my eyes burned out are on a bed of black rose petals. There’s also a torn piece of paper that says: You can’t run from me anymore.

“Sari, what’s wrong?” Sandy’s voice sounds far away, even though he’s next to me. He looks down at the package and curses loudly. “Don’t touch anything. Don’t even look at it. Sari?”

His voice sounds muffled now as the thoughts in my head keep piling up. Why now? Why me? What should I do? What do they want from me? Who are they? Do I know them? Why? How?

I can’t breathe. I’m hyperventilating. My palms are sweating profusely. I’m…I’m having a panic attack.

I need to…cup my hands and…breathe into them slowly. I look at them, but I can’t feel my fingers or my toes. Everything is blurry. I can’t see. There’s not enough air. Not enough air. I have no control over my body. I feel like I’m slowly dying. This is the end. I can’t-can’t breathe.

“Baby Blue. I’m here.” His gravelly, soothing voice suddenly makes its way inside my scattered brain. Uri.

I need you, Uri, I want to say, but my lips don’t move. My body is not listening.

I feel my lips being forced apart and then air being blown into my mouth, forced into my lungs.

“Take it. Just like this. You’re doing great,” he keeps whispering encouragement between exchanges of air.

I eagerly accept the breath of life he’s offering me as he places his mouth tightly on top of mine over and over again to inflate my lungs. Until I finally breathe again by myself.

I don’t know how much time has passed, but I am starting to see things clearly now. Uri is making soft, shushing sounds right next to my ear as I find myself on his lap, on the couch in Raph’s office. I’m shaking. I can’t seem to stop. My lips are parted around fast, short breaths.

“U-Uri?” I can finally utter.

His warm hand cups my cheek as he shifts us slightly to let our eyes meet.

“I’m here. I won’t let you go, Baby Blue.”

His soft murmurs, familiar scent, and steely arm wrapped tightly around my waist are the only things anchoring me to reality. Like he is all that is holding me together right now.

“Breathe out slowly.” His commanding eyes hold my gaze intently as I do as he says. “Now inhale.”

He grabs my trembling hand and holds it firmly in his, our scars pressing against each other. “Now again. Out. In.”

I blink a few times, tears are welling as my heart fills with gratitude and love, so much love it could explode. I want to thank him for being here for me when I needed. I want to do the same for him. I want Uri closer. I want, I want, I want him.

“If with my life or death I can protect you, I will.” I hear him say, his warm lips brushing my ear.

I move back to look at his resolute expression. Some dreads have fallen out of his bun, and with a still shaky hand, I tuck one behind his ear. He lets out a long sigh before his forehead falls on mine. Our lips are almost touching when I hear Raph’s menacing voice.

“So we know how the package got inside my building. But what I want is that guard here in my office, on his fucking knees!”

I turn to look at him. He’s on the phone. Michael is next to him, worried eyes watching me.

“I checked with HR; his shift ended thirty minutes ago. Alright, let me know when you have him.” He hangs up and addresses Uri, “Hunter is going to pick up and bring to the base the guard who was bribed to bring in the package—Rami found out a large deposit was made on the guard’s account. Hopefully we’ll get some answers. Rami is on his way here.”noveldrama

“You need to up your surveillance and check every person who comes in and out of the building.” Uri sounds like he’s barely controlling himself.

“Already on it,” Raph replies between gritted teeth.

“How do you feel, Sari? I have some water for you,” Michael says, taking a step toward me with the bottle in hand. Uri tightens his hold, pulling me harder against his chest as Michael stops a couple of feet away from us.

“I feel better already.” I try to give him a smile, and I seem to be successful since Michael nods at me. He doesn’t come any closer but stretches his arm as much as he can to hand me the water. Uri doesn’t loosen his grip on me, which makes the whole bottle exchange slightly difficult. But after a couple of tries, I get it.

“Nobody will touch you, Sari. We won’t let them.” Raph makes the compelling statement. He isn’t looking at me but at a growling Uri, like he’s talking more to him than me.

I’m still shaken up and scared to my bones. But I know I’m not alone. I have my whole family behind me. In front of me. All around me.

Hours later, I’m at the lake house. Uri carried me out of the office, holding me in his arms as he waltzed me out of the building. For once, I didn’t mind his manhandling and overprotective ways. I thought this stalker was just a pervert with a harmless fixation and that my lab was a safe place. But I was wrong on both counts. The idea of having someone this twisted able to get inside a private area of my life is really frightening.

Rami and Michael took care of the package. Like before, there were no prints. The picture with my eyes burned out was printed from my public profile on the Bear-Stone Labs website and the metal cuffs are a cheap magician prop sold by different websites and shops around Chicago. The note was written with the same old typewriter again.

I was counting on getting some answers from the guard who brought the package inside the building, but the police found him in the bathroom of a diner a couple of blocks away from work. It looked like he’d had a heart attack. Perhaps too much of a coincidence. Rami redirected the corpse to a hospital where the medical examiner owes Gabe a favor; they will perform a thorough autopsy on the corpse—under Michael’s watchful eyes—and keep us posted.

If our suspicions are right, my stalker just escalated to murder. The thought sends a chill down my spine. Uri’s lips instantly land on my head, warm and comforting, as his arm wraps more tightly around my shoulder, his gaze still locked on the television.

The driver I used this morning brought us back here. Uri spent the ride back home on the phone while I dozed on-again-off-again. After a long shower, Uri suggested we watch a movie since I wasn’t hungry, too rattled by everything. No panic attack for years, and now twice in a week.

He took a seat right next to me on the couch without leaving any space between us, cramming me between him and the armrest. His weight is enough to dip the cushions, making me slide into his hip. We are pressed together just enough to be a form of torture. His masculine scent and the warmth of his body make me constantly glance his way.

Uri doesn’t seem to want to have a repeat of last night. He’s acting a bit more handsy than usual, but that’s just because he remembers I need physical closeness after a panic attack. Every time he’s near me, it is as if time slows down and tranquility reigns around me.

I look down at my lap. Albert E. is sleeping on the blanket covering my legs. The familiar sight of him napping so soundly gives me a little comfort. He sleeps a lot. I caress his smooth back, lingering on the tuft of hair on his head. His short, right leg starts kicking the air—it’s his way of letting me know he enjoys it since he has no tail to wiggle. It makes me smile affectionately at him.

Uri’s low growl makes me raise my head.

“Why are you glaring at Albert E.?” I ask, catching the angry look pointed at my guinea pig.

“He has his room to sleep in.” There’s a weird inflection to his words, a dark one.

“My lap is very comfortable too,” I retort, piqued by his annoyed tone.

“I know.” The corner of his mouth curls up, lifting the hoop around his lip. I suddenly remember pulling on it with my teeth.

His hand moves into my loose hair. I forgot to braid it after the shower, and his fingers start a toe-curling massage over my nape that makes me forget about everything but the soothing sensation.

“You always give me what I need,” I suddenly feel the urge to say to him. Because it’s true, even though he’ll never give me what I need the most: his heart.

“I always will.” The rumble of his voice gives me delicious goosebumps.

What if I ask him to kiss me right now? Would he? I don’t open my eyes, too afraid he’ll read my desire in them. Too afraid he’ll reject me…or oblige me.

“Always?”

His reply comes quickly. “Till the end of me.”

“Or me.”

“No,” he rumbles. “I’d never let you go first.” The confidence in his voice almost makes me believe he has any say in it.

His hand leaves my hair and grazes mine, it brings fire licking up my limb. Then he moves away. The empty space he left feels inhumanly cold.

He turns off the television and grabs Albert E. from my lap. “You sleepy?”

“No,” I tell him, noticing how delicately he’s holding my pet.

“Come.” He turns and moves to the door.

I leave the blanket on the couch and follow him. I’m wearing only an oversized white sweater that reaches my thighs. Underneath I have a simple cotton bra and panty set—it’s the comfy pair of lingerie I wear when I feel off.

Uri leaves Albert E. in his room before taking me by the hand and moving down the corridor. His fingers feel so warm and reassuring around mine as he keeps walking with confident steps. He stops in front of the metal door to go through the security checks. I know it will open to the shooting range. I’ve never been inside, but Uri told me about it.

A small beep, and then he pushes the door open. The room is bigger than I expected. The targets lined up on the distant wall on the right have pictures of people on them. They must be Uri’s future donors.

He’s taking something from one of the drawers on the opposite wall. I move closer; it’s filled with guns.

“I haven’t practiced in months.” I hear myself say, dragging my gaze away from Uri’s tanned throat; his dreads are in a bun again, putting all that smooth skin on display.

“Six months,” he remembers since the last time was with him. “Here.” He hands me a beautiful gun, small, light, with a white pearl handle.

“A Walther PPK, James Bond’s gun.”

I smile. I know he enjoys watching OO7 movies—anything detective-ish. “Her name?”

“Honey Ryder,” he replies, guiding me toward the firing stand. There’s a pair of earmuffs on the counter, but I don’t wear them. I’m used to the loud noise. It’s kind of comforting even. Such a strange thing to be reassuring.

“What’s the first rule about new weapons?”

“Never trust one you’ve never tested or fired,” I recite one of Linda’s teachings.

“Very good. Give it a try.”

I take the safety off and point the gun in front of me—it feels cold in my hand. There’s no picture on the target down the lane, just one word written in red: Stalker.

My hand suddenly trembles, my sight turns blurry as I remember my photo with burned eyes. My finger slips on the sensitive trigger as the loud bang resounds in the room. The bullet misses, and I take deep breaths in as I try to compose myself. I guess I’m still shaken. “Maybe handling guns is not a very good idea right now.”

Uri is suddenly behind me. His cotton shirt-clad chest brushes against my back, his calm voice near my ear. “Give Honey a good grip; hug it with your thumb.” His fingers move over mine, shifting my hand position. “Treat her with precision and tact,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Remember, always shoot to kill. In the middle of the forehead or straight to the heart.”

My heart beats so loud, I squirm a little. All thoughts of the stalker magically and swiftly disappear. I can feel the round shape of Uri’s hard nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt. It’s distracting. I’m idly wondering what they would feel like on my bare skin without the fabric in the way when Uri’s hands land on my waist, making me jolt a little.

He doesn’t seem to mind my reaction. “Remember the key to shooting is controlling your breathing…”

“Breathing will keep my heart still,” I finish.

I close my eyes and empty my mind. No past, no present, no future. When I open them, I shift the gun and fire my shot. It hits the heart.

A smile jumps immediately to my face. Uri hums with satisfaction, the sound vibrating against my back as we’re pressed so close together. My stomach somersaults at the sound.

I suddenly feel a bulge against my ass, and as I fire more bullets, the bulge grows. Is he turned on by my shooting?

“Fuck yeah!” he growls right into my ear. “Keep going.”

The more I shoot, the more precise my aim gets until I get the target’s bullseye. The gun is still in my grip as my hands fall forward on the counter. Uri is grinding his hard cock against the curve of my butt, lifting my sweater over my waist and pressing me against the hard surface of the firing stand.

“You need to stop rubbing against me like that if you don’t want me to fucking devour you,” he hisses. I realize he’s right. I’m the one stroking his cock between my ass cheeks now. Was I also the one starting this?

The acknowledgement doesn’t stop me. I keep working him until I feel his piercing stroking against my clenching hole. A zip of electricity rushes down, turning my dick rigid. My eyes become hooded, lips slightly parted. It’s too late for me now. I opened this Pandora’s box, and I can’t go back.

“Mhm,” Uri lets out a deep hum before he grabs my face and tilts it up, robbing my breath. His fingers dig into my jaw so that he can feed me his wet, pierced tongue, as he kisses me upside down. Our hips don’t stop moving, humping each other like two animals in heat. My cock is sliding against the counter with every movement.

I give back as ferociously as he’s taking. He bites me and then laps at the indent he made with his tongue; it feels like a fist of warmth hitting right into my chest. His hand covers mine once again, and lifting the gun up, his finger pushes mine on the trigger. The two shots booming in the room, don’t halt my lust. My desire has reached the skylights, a gun firing close to me, even though dangerous, can’t stop this. Nothing can.

I’m trapped in a pleasure haze while he’s eating the fuck out of my mouth. I’m melting against him, my legs are giving out, but I still meet him, passionate stroke for passionate stroke.

“There’s nothing sexier in my world than you holding a gun,” he rasps against my trembling lips.

His hands slide down my sides until they find bare skin. They grip my hips, making me gasp. Fingers glide under my panties, taking two handfuls of ass cheeks bruisingly hard. The pain hits me inside where it feels so good, and I let my head fall back on his shoulder. The loud growls that leave his lips cover the sound of my slutty moan as he drives his leaking dick against my wet panties.

“Keep hold of the gun.” I barely process his command when I’m suddenly spun around and lifted up—one hand holding my ass. My legs are hooked around his waist as my back hits the pole that divides each firing stand.

“Take off your sweater,” he orders. I do so as he unbuttons his jeans with deft fingers, taking out his dick before releasing mine from my panties. He opens his mouth and lets saliva drip on them before wrapping a large hand around both shafts and starting to jerk them off. My hands fall on his shoulders, the one not holding the gun grips the skin, nails digging in. My eyes are fixed on our dripping cocks moving against each other. His is longer and thicker than mine; his piercings keep stroking my sensitive skin, sending bolts of undiluted ecstasy all over my body.

“Uri. Yes!” I scream as I start moving my hips to get more friction.

He pins me more firmly against the pole as the rhythm of his hand increases. My back hurts, enhancing the pleasure and making me crave more.

A gasp falls from me when I find Uri watching me with depraved intensity, teeth gritted. The mole on his cheek trembling. “Suck on your fingers.”

I follow his growled command without hesitation, pushing three inside my mouth and sucking them like I would his cock.

“Fuuuck!” His nostrils flare as his strokes slow down. “Fuck yourself. Let me look at your lewd face while your fingers are plunging in and out of your hole.”

Holy shit. This is too good; I feel like I’m going to pass out from too much pleasure. The sound of a hard slap makes me find his glaring eyes again. The burn comes after, focusing on the side of my hip. I hiss as my dick twitches, ready to come.

I move my slick fingers down. His hand gripping my butt pulls the panty fabric away, keeping one cheek spread to give my fingers easier access.

“Only the tip first, in and out of that pink pucker. Feel it opening you, slowly,” Uri whispers sultrily, making my eyes cross as I do what he wants. His other hand is giving our dicks slow, firm pumps now, which are not enough.

My mouth goes wide as the first finger suddenly slides in. It stings without lube. I can feel every little twinge and pang. It’s titillatingly erotic.

“You got it all in,” he says provocatively. “Stretch that hole, play with it, make it loose for the next finger.” He spits on our cocks again. His hand is beating us off a little faster.

“One more,” I gasp as I add another inside. I never knew I could turn into such a wanton person. It’s so freeing to embrace who I am. So right.

“Keep going, Baby Blue, let me hear how much you like it.”

The third finger glides near the others as I pump them in and out. A moan echoes in the room, or maybe I keep crying all my pleasure. I don’t know anymore. I’m feeling too much. My senses are in overdrive, and yet I want more.

The gun. I’m still holding it in my hand. I unhook my arm from behind his neck and bring it over my chest. I let the cold muzzle touch my nipple through the thin cotton bra. The bud stiffens, and a whimper leaves my mouth as I press the metal more firmly over it. Uri’s surprised grunt makes me look at him as I shiver with delight. The consuming desire in his eyes encourages me further. I trail the pistol over my neck, my chin, my cheek, feeling the air leaving my mouth in panted breaths. I stop only when I reach my parted lips.

His hand halts as well and his grip loosens around our shafts, making me almost scream in desperation. My body stiffens when suddenly I feel one of his fingers piercing my hole. It slides next to mine, bigger, longer, thicker, impossibly and painfully stretching me. It’s not a gentle discomfort. It burns me from the inside and turns me into a sex fiend. My shaking legs tighten around his waist as my hips start impaling my hole on our combined four fingers.

“Lick it. Fucking lick Honey Ryder.” His voice sounds thunderous, I’ve never heard this tone from him. Demanding and menacing, promising sweet hell if I don’t comply. It excites me. I push my tongue out between my lips, and keeping my gaze fixed on his, I give the metal barrel a long, slow, sensual lick.

The growl ripping out of his chest is the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

“Say my name again,” he hisses, but I can hardly breathe. His hand is beating us off at a frantic tempo. He’s working me on both sides, finger fucking me roughly and mercilessly. I’m utterly lost to him.

He shoves my back even harder against the pole, his hips pinning me in place as he goes at me like a man desperate for more. I can feel the way our pre-cum helps our dicks move smoothly on every erotic slide, and it feels so incredibly amazing that I don’t want it to end. But there’s no way I can hold myself back with Uri.

He suddenly grabs my balls and squeezes so hard I cry as stars appear in front of my eyes. I feel heavy tears falling down my cheeks as I’m engulfed by immeasurable pleasure. It bursts out of me, making my body arch. The first spurt hits my chest as I shiver, overtaken by bliss. I scream his name over and over, until my throat hurts.

When I come back to earth, I feel cum sliding down my chest and belly. I’m light, body buzzing. I open my eyes, letting more tears roll down. When my sight clears, what I see on Uri’s face is not satisfaction. His expression is dark, jaw tense, completely closed off.

Without looking at me, he lets me down slowly and cautiously, and places Honey Ryder on the counter. I suddenly feel cold. I wrap my arms around my chest, but it’s no use, because I soon realize the chill is coming from inside me.

When I look down at Uri’s still open pants, I notice he’s still hard. He didn’t come.

“Didn’t you like it?” What a stupid question. He kissed me, touched me with such passion, and he’s hard, of course he liked it.

“Do you want my mouth again?” I ask hesitantly.

Why isn’t he answering me? He’s just staring at one of the targets, looking tense. His fist flexing, jaw ticking. Dick leaking pre-cum.

I reach my hand out with the intention of jerking him off, but he grabs my wrist before I make contact. His grip is too tight, just shy of painful. I shudder at the delicious sensation, and he abruptly releases me and starts buttoning up his jeans.

“Don’t you want to?” I whisper, covering my aching wrist, hoping to keep some of Uri’s warmth there.

“I’ve never hesitated to take what I want through any means necessary. It’s not a question of want,” he answers cryptically.

“Of what then?”

“Need.”

I have the strangest feeling he’s talking about something else. Could it be my pain kink? We’ve never talked about it. I thought the spanking was his way of trying to go along with this preference of mine. Was I wrong?

“Go wash yourself.” His tone sounds final and grave.

“Are you serious?” I ask, baffled by his change of mood. He doesn’t even want me to help him feel good.

A sudden thought pierces my mind. “Was this a pity fuck?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turns his back to me, dismissing me so easily to focus on his guns.

“Don’t know?” I repeat, dread and fury forming a ball inside my throat. “Because I have almost zero experience and you have plenty?”

He doesn’t deny it. His wordless reply fires a silent bullet straight into my heart. I suspected he fucked around, but having the confirmation hurts so much. Do I even have a right to feel like this? I yank my sweater from the floor and hurry toward the door, needing to lick my wounds in private.

“You’re mine, Sari.” I hear his words just as I’m about to pass the threshold. “You can’t run away from me. Just accept it,” he states ominously just before the shooting starts.

I flee to the second floor, lock the door to the bedroom behind me, and then the bathroom door as well.

I’m his? What does that mean? Like a shiny toy sitting on a shelf to be gazed at but not played with? I’ve never felt like this before with Uri, like I’m trapped. He was the one who showed me I could choose my own path. He encouraged me to pursue what I liked.

I drop the sweater on the floor as my eyes find my reflection in the mirror. Lips chapped, disheveled hair, grim gaze. I’m sticky and exhausted. My body feels sated while my head can’t stop spinning with thoughts. I gaze at the redness his slaps left on my side, and when I shift a little bit to the right, I notice the fingerprints on my ass cheeks where his fingers gripped me.

Tears fall down as pleasure and pain overtake me. Because I love the sight of his marks on me, and at the same time, I wish they weren’t there.

When did I start to associate this confusing, unbearable, miserable feeling with Uri?

Maybe it’s true that there’s a moment for two souls. A single, defining moment when they touch fire and fuse together, or burn apart and turn everything to ashes.

Am I going to survive the flames?

After a long shower, I fall asleep in the big bed without unlocking the bedroom door. In my dreams, though, I feel a warm body possessively embrace me. Gentle lips touch my head and my bleeding heart.