And I did. I cried out long and loud, not caring who heard in the other apartments, not caring if I sounded like a wounded animal. I felt how hard my contractions were, how my pussy sucked and latched on to his cock. He was grunting and moving harder, his thrusting getting more erratic. I knew he was close, and when he slammed in deep and stilled, roaring out when he came, I felt his cock kick inside of me as he bathed every inch of me with his seed.

  His cum was hot and thick and set off another orgasm that stole my breath and had my arms giving out under me. But before my back slammed onto the counter, Arlo’s hand was pressed in the center of my back, his strong arm keeping me up.

  Finally he stilled, resting his forehead on my chest, his warm breath washing along my breasts as we both panted and gasped for air. I lifted a hand and tunneled my fingers in his short hair, the strands damp at the temple. He kissed one of my breasts, then moved over and gave the other a gentle press of his lips. It seemed so intimate, maybe even more so than what we’d just shared.

  I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, with Arlo still semihard inside me, but my ass had since gone numb and I didn’t care one bit. I’d never felt so alive and content before.

  He lifted for me and pulled out, and instantly I felt our combined fluids start to come out of me on a warm trickle. Arlo was looking between my thighs, and I went to close them with embarrassment, knowing he could see his cum slipping from me, but he stilled me with his hands on my knees.

  “No,” he whispered gruffly and leaned in to press a kiss to my clit, pulling a sharp gasp from me. I felt his finger move along my entrance as he said, “How sore are you?”

  I swallowed and took a few breaths before I answered. “Just a little.”

  “I bet.” He kept gently rubbing along my entrance, gave my clit another kiss, and then I felt him push his cum back into my body. “I fucked you hard.” I tried to stifle my moan, but it came out regardless. “I belong right in here.” He lifted just his eyes to my face as he stayed between my thighs. “Always.”

  I found myself nodding before I could take in his words fully.

  He stood, and I didn’t fight him or complain when he lifted me into his embrace, my legs over his arm, my side to his chest, and my head on his shoulder. He held me gently, as if he cherished me. I closed my eyes and settled my weight against him, aching and sore between my thighs, the chill in the air and the experience we’d just shared causing goose bumps to skate along my arms and legs.

  Arlo laid me on the bed and adjusted me so he could pull the blanket over my nude body. And then he was slipping in beside me and pulling me close, the warmth of his bare skin on mine pushing away all the coldness I’d felt and any worry or uncertainty that would have made itself known until there was only euphoria.

  For long minutes we didn’t speak, but I didn't know what we could have said. We spoke with our bodies and said so much during that time that I felt like I knew all I needed to about Arlo without him having to ever say a single syllable. I reached out for his hand that rested on his abdomen. I twined my fingers through his, staring at the contrast, how his hand was so much bigger than mine, his fingers so much longer.

  His skin was a dark, golden hue compared to my pale complexion. He was strong where I’d always been weak. He was fearless where I’d always been afraid of what was lurking over my shoulder.

  “I’m going after them, Galina,” he said, his voice deep and wrapping around me like another blanket of protection.

  I closed my eyes because I knew who he was talking about. He’d already killed Leonid, even if he hadn’t said the words. I knew he was trying to protect me further. I’d never told him Henry’s full name, never told him where he could be found, but I also knew if Arlo wanted to find someone, he didn’t need me to accomplish that. He had resources I could never comprehend at his fingertips.

  I thought about this man who held me so closely, who ran his fingers along my spine, always touching me, as if it centered him like it did me.

  Arlo promised he’d make it safe for me, and that meant he was going to Vegas and after Henry. I knew without a doubt Arlo would kill him.

  “I don’t want any vengeance, Arlo.” I rested my head on his chest and trailed my fingers over one of his many tattoos. I could see scars littering his flesh under that dark ink.

  He stayed silent for long seconds before finally saying, “I’m going to make it safe for you, even if I have to kill everyone to make that reality.” His arm around me tightened as if he needed to know I was still here.

  “You don’t have to ask for or need or want my vengeance, Galina. You have that from me without fail. You had it from the very beginning.”

  I should’ve been afraid of him, but I wasn't, and I knew I would never have cause to be. Talking him out of anything, especially something like this that caused the man who was clearly born out of blood and violence to latch on to like a starving beast, would have been like trying to break up two fighting dogs.

  I’d only get hurt in the end, even if inadvertently.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  Arlo

  Sleep would never come tonight, not after killing Leonid, and not after claiming Galina. I’d held her for hours, her soft body molded to mine, the sweet scent that clung to her hair filling my nose every time I inhaled. Her arousal and virgin blood drying on my cock was a reminder that I didn’t deserve her but that I wouldn’t let her go.

  I’d kept a constant touch on her, my fingers moving against her arm, down her back, brushing strands of silky dark hair away from her face just so I could look at her and watch her sleep.

  I’d never considered myself a lucky man. That wasn’t something life gave you. I’d scraped the bottom of the barrel to be able to survive, clawed my way out of a buried grave with dirt under my nails and blood covering my body just so I could make it the next day. But as I stared at Galina’s sleeping face, counted each long, thick lash that formed dark crescents along her alabaster skin, I knew for the first time in my life, I was lucky. Because she was mine.

  I’d been afraid of my turbulent emotions and the tightness in my body waking her, so for the last hour I’d been sitting at the table, cleaning my gun, the meticulous work good for my thoughts, helping calm the raging emotions inside me. They were foreign, not something I’d ever experienced or wanted, and they were all because of Galina. Now that I tasted them, I never wanted them to go away.

  I could hear her stirring, imagined the sheets sliding against her smooth, bare skin. I was hard already, had been since she fell asleep in my arms, her head on my chest, her silky hair fanned across my chest.

  My cock throbbed; my balls ached. I wanted her again. And again and again.

  I felt my muscles tighten more as the need to fuck Galina again slammed into me. I wanted to tangle my hand in her hair and jerk her head back as I buried my face in the graceful line of her throat.

  And as if my thoughts called her to me, she stepped out from the hallway, the white sheet wrapped around the lithe curves of her body. She had the material bunched together right above her breasts, one hand holding it in what I imagined was a white-knuckled grip.

  The sight of her did something to my chest, something powerful and dangerous. Irreversible.

  I set the piece I’d been cleaning down and pushed the chair back. Just enough. “Come here.”

  I saw the tightening of her nipples under that too-thin sheet as my words affected her. She didn’t speak as she came forward, the material dragging softly against the hardwood, the swoosh-swoosh noise filling the thick silence.

  She stopped a couple of feet from me, the pulse at the base of her ear telling me how her body responded to me. Fast. Erratic.

  “Come closer, malen'koye solnyshko.” Little sunshine. That’s what she was. Light to my darkness. Warmth to my cold.

  Her eyes lowered to my cock, and she saw how hard I was for her already. Come closer, Galina. Come closer to the wolf who’s so hungry he’ll devour you without a thought.

  And then she let the sheet fall away, her body naked and soft, the lights from the city right outside the window whispering across her skin, the shadows playing along the perfect lines and curves of her form.

  Come here and let me consume you like you’ve already done to me. Let me ruin you as much as you’ve caused every part of me to crumble to the gritty floor.

  She took another step toward me, and another. I couldn’t stop myself, didn’t even try to act like I had any control where she was concerned. I reached out and curled my hand around her waist, my finger sticking into her soft flesh. Too hard, too forcefully. There would be marks tomorrow. But I couldn’t find any reason to care. I wanted those bruises littering her soft, pale body. I wanted to be able to look at them and know she got them because of me… because she was mine.

  I yanked her forward until she stumbled onto me, her legs on either side of my thighs. She straddled me, her pussy pressed right against my cock. She gasped, and I slid my hand up her waist, whispering along the curve of her breast before wrapping my fingers loosely around her throat. I added a little bit of pressure, a reminder that she was mine. A physical, visceral reminder to her. “Say it. Say the words.”

  She gasped, and I pulled her toward me even more, our lips barely brushing, her breath mixing with mine. I inhaled deeply, taking her into my lungs, needing to survive off her.

  “Fuck me, Arlo.”

  I groaned and slammed my mouth down on hers, the beast coming alive once more and washing through me. I let go of her throat and gripped her waist, urging her to rise slightly. I grabbed the base of my cock, aligned the tip with her entrance, and then I was pulling her down, both hands on her hips, bruising fingers in her skin.

  I tipped my head back and groaned loudly, the noise mixing with her gasp of pleasure and pain. I knew she was sore and told myself to be gentle. Be easy. But as she started riding me, I saw a haze of pleasure and need. I lifted my hips and pulled her down on me, fucked her like she was the air and I was suffocating.

  I wanted to come in her again. I wanted to leave a little part of myself inside her like she’d done to me. Galina had worked her way into my body, torn away layer after layer, skinned me alive until I was the most vulnerable I’d ever been. And she didn’t even know it. Would never grasp how naked I was.

  “Mine,” I growled right before I took her mouth in a bruising kiss. She clutched at me as if she was afraid I’d ever let her go.

  Never.

  With Leonid gone, there was only one threat left to get rid of, and that was going to Vegas and finding the men Galina had run from, who’d threatened her, thought they could hurt and use her. I wouldn’t wait. I’d do it right away, take Galina with me, because I couldn’t stand to not have her by my side, my worry for her and the need to protect her too strong to ignore. She’d never be safer than when she was with me.

  I was a strong man. An evil man. But for her, I wished I was good and gentle.

  I wished I could be someone else entirely.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Three

  Galina

  A handful of days had passed since Arlo claimed me, since I gave myself to a man for the first time.

  Since he ruined me for all others and had put an invisible brand on me that deemed me as only his.

  Even now I was still thinking about that first time… and the days that followed, how he’d taken me every night in his bed, in the shower, from behind, as I rode him. Being with Arlo was untamed, like we were two animals rutting together, sweaty and desperate, both needing to get off because it would be the final completion of bringing us together.

  It had been wild and dirty. It had been aggressive and violent.

  It was perfect.

  And although all I wanted to do was stay wrapped in that fairy tale where the villain had made me his and I never had to worry about the what-ifs, reality was crashing back into me.

  I stared out at the sight of Vegas. It had the same feel for me as it always did. Desperation, longing… hunger. It was a thick, sticky feeling that coated a person from head to toe, trying to suck them in with the flashing lights, the promise of euphoria and pleasure, the lie that if you just stayed a little bit longer, you’d fall in love.

  A beautiful lie. For me at least.

  But I knew there were the stupid in the world who embraced it all, if only for a moment in time. They’d get lost in how pretty things were on the outside, not knowing that if they dug a little deeper, they’d come to the rotten center. But I’d never been fooled, not when I spent my whole life nestled away in the slums where the beauty of what could be never touched you.

  We’d taken a private jet from Desolation to Vegas almost two nights after Arlo killed Leonid. I wanted to tell him it was too soon, to let me think about this, for us to try to figure something else out. It wasn't that I was averse to him taking out Henry. In fact, when I thought about it, this sense of all things right filled me. And that scared me, terrified me that I was comfortable with the grit and destruction that came with the man I loved.

  Because the truth was, I was sick in the head because I wanted Henry gone. I wanted my father to see the repercussions of what would happen if he tried to hurt me. I wanted Arlo to show everyone what he was capable of.

  I didn’t want to seem weak, never had been in my entire life, but for the first time ever, I felt as if I was cocooned in this bubble, as if I lived this whole other life. Feminists around the world would probably skin me alive at how much I loved the lengths Arlo would go to, to ensure my safety.

  “It’s time,” Arlo said in his signature deep and gravelly voice from behind me.

  I turned around but didn’t move closer, feet upon feet separating us as he stood shrouded in shadows on the other end of the hotel room. He was magnificent and beautiful as I took in the suit he wore, a dark and expensive visage of what he really was.

  A professional killer. A violent murderer with no remorse. A sociopath perhaps.

  The man I love.

  I made my way toward him until mere inches were the only thing keeping us apart.

  “I’ll say it again… I think it’s best if you don’t come so that you don’t see what’s going to happen.”

  I licked my lips and shook my head. He’d tried to tell me I wasn’t going with him tonight—demanded I stay safely in the hotel room, more accurately. But if this was really going down, I had to be there. For my peace of mind and to close this chapter in my life.

  “I’m coming,” I said firmly—finally—and kicked up my chin in defiance, which had the corner of his mouth lifting in amusement despite the seriousness of the situation. He lifted his hand and cupped the side of my face. His expression softened.

  “Grown men don’t even have the balls to defy me.” He leaned in and kissed me slowly and thoroughly, and I melted into him like I always did. “Your strength is one of the reasons I love you so fiercely.” His words were low and deep and murmured against my mouth, and my pulse did a flip in my chest.

  My heart pounded in my chest at his words. “I love you,” I said, the words sounding like they’d been torn from me and rend me in half.

  He pulled back, and I immediately rested my forehead on the center of his chest, breathing in his scent. I loved this man so much it physically hurt, and although I knew nothing would happen to him because he was so strong and stubborn, so dangerous that even death feared him, my breath still hitched at the thought of losing him.

  “There’s no need for fear,” he said softly and kissed the crown of my head. “Don’t you know I’m the monster all other monsters fear?”

  I smiled although I felt no humor in the way he teased, even if I knew he did it for my benefit.

  “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  I pulled back and looked up at him. I wanted the demons to stay firmly in the shadows. Yet I didn’t want to ever look over my shoulder and worry someone would take me away from Arlo. And the only way to ensure our future was secure and our relationship stronger than ever was to have more bloodshed and bury the bodies of the past.

  God, who was the woman I’d become, one who was okay with killing to ensure my life was safe?

  A survivor. I’m a survivor, and I’ll do anything to make sure I stay by Arlo’s side.

  After one more kiss, he led me out of the hotel room and down to the BMW that had been waiting for us at the airstrip once we landed. I didn’t have to give Arlo any information about Henry or my father, and he’d never asked. Whatever connections he had, Arlo had obviously gotten the details he needed, and that was clear as we left the Strip and headed to Fremont Street.

  The older part of Vegas came into view, a relic of the past yet still popular to tourists in the way they held on to a memento from a different time. But soon that facade started to wane the deeper we drove, the farther we went into the gritty part of what the city offered, where buildings were dilapidated, businesses run-down, broken windows and broken-down lives, with half-naked women standing on the corner of streets, smoking cigarettes and suggestively asking for “company tonight.”

  I felt myself get pulled back down to the only place I’d ever called “home,” and I hated it. I felt nauseous in the way it was heavy inside me, like this other presence trying to take root in my soul.

  I was staring out the passenger window when I felt Arlo’s hand cover mine that rested on my thigh. I looked over at him, but he was firmly focused on the street ahead. I wasn’t surprised he’d been able to sense my turbulent emotions. We were connected in a way I’d never understand but was forever grateful for.

  He tightened his fingers on my hand, and I lifted my other to place my palm over his, the warmth and strength that poured from Arlo enough to have a semblance of calm washing over me. But even that soothing sensation couldn’t fully extinguish my bone-deep fear of what was happening next.

  The broken part of Vegas was like another world on its own with how things worked. It was like Desolation in that sense, with life lost in the deepest parts, swallowed whole and decaying in the underbelly of what used to be a thriving society.