“You can join me or watch. It’s up to you.”
Something feral flashed in Dimitri’s eyes. Something so raw and animalistic, I thought he might lunge at me from across the cell.
I wanted him to. God, I wanted him to. I was wetter than Niagara Falls down below, and that was only partly because of the communal orgy happening around me, but entirely because of Dimitri fucking Volkov. Because of those magnetic blue eyes, burning with so much intensity that it could engulf me.
Pleasure shot up my spine when my fingers brushed over my clit. I didn’t even try to hold back my moan. I wanted Dimitri to hear it. To entice him into joining me. To break that iron-steel control he had.
And I thought I might actually have succeeded.
We were sitting at opposite ends of the cell, him on his cot with his back pressed against the bars, me on my cot with my back against the stone wall, staring each other down like we were the only two people in the room. Sexual tension vibrated between us. Hot. Aching. And completely fucking addictive.
I knew he felt it too. There was no denying that look blazing in his eyes. The tenseness in his whole body, like it was taking all of his strength to hold himself back.
So, it was one fuck of a surprise when he slowly turned over and lay down with his back to me.
You’d think something like that would embarrass me. I’d offered for him to join me, and instead of doing that, he’d chosen to roll over and essentially ignore me…while I had my hand on my pussy.
It was basically a flat-out rejection.
But one thing I didn’t do was live my life with regrets. There was every chance that I could die in the coming days, and I didn’t want to die wondering if something could have happened between Dimitri and I if I’d only had the courage to ask.
I took my shot. It didn’t work. And that was okay. Disappointing, but okay.
Despite the panting, moaning and cries of pleasure surrounding me on all sides, my lust plummeted now that Dimitri was no longer looking at me. It was still slightly there, humming just beneath the surface, but without the object of my desires staring me in the face, it just wasn’t the same.
I removed my hand from my underwear and held in the disappointed sigh that threatened to slip free. He might have had his back to me, but I didn’t want to risk him hearing that I was disheartened by his choice. I had to save face somehow.
With strands of desire still vibrating in my lower belly, I laid down on my back and waited for sleep to take me.
Strong, calloused hands whispered over my bare skin, starting from my lower ankle and slowly moving up and up and up. I shivered, a whimper falling from my lips.
“Shhh. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
Dreams were fickle things. You knew you were dreaming. You knew you were asleep. You were aware that the events flashing right before your eyes weren’t really happening, and yet, they felt so real that you could almost swear it wasn’t a dream at all.
But I knew it was for the simple fact that it was Dimitri’s hands currently touching me, his voice breathing in my ear.
“What are you doing?” I stayed completely still, not moving a single muscle.
“Shh, shh, shh, I know you’re aching.” His fingers walked up my leg before he cupped my pussy roughly. “I’m aching, too. Ever since you tried to kill me.”
“Which time?” I panted.
“Every. Fucking. Time,” he growled as if he was frustrated because of that very reason. “And now I’m going to give us what we both want, and you’re not going to stop me, are you? Because you want it just as badly as I do, don’t you?”
I bit my bottom lip, not wanting to admit how excited I was to have him finally touching me. My legs opened with hardly any conscious thought, granting him more access, and he chuckled darkly. Sinfully.
“Yeah, you fucking do. Look at you, opening up wide for me.” He pulled down my shorts and underwear but kept them clamped around my thighs, somewhat restricting my movements.
I fucking loved it.
“Now, let’s get a good look at that pussy that’s been plaguing my fucking mind.” His fingers spread me open, and a hungry growl rumbled down his throat. “Fuckkk. I need to know how you taste.”
“Oh, God,” I moaned as his warm, wet tongue circled my clit before he sucked it into his mouth. “Dimitri, oh, yes, Dimitri.”
He hummed in appreciation, his hands coming up underneath me to cup my ass. He squeezed almost painfully, and more pleasure mixed in with that delicious lick of pain he’d caused.
“Fucking heaven,” he groaned, closing his entire mouth over me and moving his tongue faster. He buried his face into my pussy like he couldn’t get enough of me and absolutely feasted.
I knew I was about to come undone, and it felt soooo good. The way he moved his tongue, swirling it around my clit over and over again. He was kissing my pussy like it was my mouth, and I was fucking living for it. I was about to fucking explode.
He grabbed my hands and put them on the back of his head, pushing them into his hair roughly as if he wanted me to push him closer, harder into my pussy so that it almost smothered him.
I did, and he released this deep, masculine groan of satisfaction that had me shivering all over. He ripped my shorts and underwear away and then curled my legs around him.
My hips moved in time with the strokes of his tongue, pleasure building and building. “Dimitri,” I breathed, my orgasm so close that I could almost taste it.
“Say my name again,” he growled, licking faster.
“Dimitri, Dimitri, Dimitri,” I moaned over and over again.
He roughly pushed two fingers inside me, and I would have shot off the bed if he hadn’t clamped one arm across my stomach. “Lie the fuck back down. I’m not done.”
I fought him, loving the way he pinned me down to keep going. The way he fought to keep me still so he could keep licking me. Keep fucking me with his fingers.
“Shit, I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m—”
Something soft smacked me in the face. I shot up, looking around in confusion, my chest panting and sweat trickling down my forehead. A pillow laid on the floor right next to my bed.
What the?
The room was quiet except for the sounds of a few people snoring. I picked up the pillow, inspecting it. My eyes shot to Dimitri over in his cot. He was still lying with his back to me, but his pillow was missing.
He’d thrown it at me.
I internally winced. My dream must have trickled over into real life. What had he heard? No. The more important question was, what did I fucking say?
Had I only moaned? God, I hoped I hadn’t said his name out loud. I didn’t need him knowing that I just had one of the best sex dreams I’d ever had…and that he was the leading star.
I fluffed the pillow before adding it on top of my own, lying back down. He wasn’t getting it back. It was on my side, and now it was mine.
I bounced on the tips of my toes, anticipation and excitement beating through my blood as I anxiously stared at the TV screen.
All of us were gathered in the training area, but it wasn’t to train. No. The games had finally begun.
And I couldn’t be more excited.
That morning, the first round had commenced. We had all been standing around like we were now, clustered together in a group while Talon’s guards surrounded us in a tight circle, their machine guns ready and pointing at us in warning in case any of us got any ideas about trying to escape.
The crowd had chanted, roaring so loudly that it could be heard through the thick stone walls.
We all knew what that’d meant: the event we had all been preparing for had finally come.
I’d realised halfway through Talon’s grand speech that he intended for all of us to watch the fights. That was why they’d gathered us all there, to watch it on the TV screens. Maybe it was to help prepare us. Maybe it was to torture us. I wasn’t sure, but I was inclined to believe it was the latter.
What made it even more torturous was that we had no idea who was fighting. Not until right at the last moment, when it was announced to the crowd.
Talk about keeping us on our fucking toes.
The first pairs to fight were Samuel Marlon and Jessica Clifford vs Ronnie O’Hara and Leah Asner. After their names were called, guards had swarmed us, pulling them from the group, removing their collars and shoving them into the arena all within thirty seconds.
We’d watched them on the TVs mounted to the wall in the training area. It had been brutal to watch. There was absolutely no censorship. You saw everything as it was happening. All the blood. All the gore. All the tears and cries of pain.
Some of the other prisoners had thrown up. Others passed out. The weapons in the arena made the whole thing more barbaric. More bloody.
I also suspected they’d placed microphones in the arena itself, because you could hear every single thing. Every swoosh as axe’s sliced through the air. Every squelch as blades cut into bodies. Every cry of pain.
You could hear it all.
And now, it was time for round two.
Tense, nervous energy suffocated the room as we all waited to see who would be the next to fight. I cracked my neck, restlessness humming beneath my skin, just dying to be unleashed.
I tried to pay attention to what was happening on the TV, but I was acutely aware of how close Dimitri was to me. My skin felt hot, hypersensitive, my whole body electrified from the events of the night prior and that fucking sex dream.
We hadn’t said a word to each other all day, both of us choosing to ignore everything and pretend like none of it happened. Pretend that we hadn’t been eye-fucking each other the whole time as a massive orgy played out around us. Pretend he hadn’t thrown a pillow at me to wake me up because I was most likely moaning as I was coming in my dream.
We ignored it all, and I was partly glad. I didn’t want any questions about what it was exactly I had been dreaming about.
My eyes were on the TV, but I wasn’t really taking anything in. I wasn’t really listening as the presenters droned on and on. My mind kept replaying the dream like a movie. Usually, I couldn’t remember what I dreamed about, but that one didn’t seem to want to go away. I could still feel how real it felt having his hands on me. His lips. His tongue. His—
“You look a little…tense.”
I jolted at Dimitri’s deep, husky voice in my ear. I turned my head to look at him. He was right there, in my space, a smirk on his lips. “Rough sleep last night?”
I cleared my throat. “No. I slept like a baby.”
“Did you? Hmm.” Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “Sounded a little… Oh, what’s the word… Eventful?” he breathed against my skin.
I narrowed my eyes at that teasing tone. Dimitri didn’t tease, so the fact that he was put me on edge.
“Nope. It was completely uneventful.”
“Well, what was it about?”
I tried to ignore him, but he moved even closer, his chest brushing against my shoulder as he stayed bent to whisper in my ear.
I straightened, determined not to react, like it was just any normal conversation. “Just the usual things. Murder. Death. Squirrels.”
He leant back slightly, looking at me with humor in his eyes. “Squirrels?”
“They’re cute and fluffy and we don’t have them in Australia.”
“I see,” he chuckled. “Nothing else, then? Nothing more…exciting?”
That prick. He wanted me to say it. Wanted me to admit I’d had a sex dream.
Well, I sure as shit wasn’t going to do that.
“Nope.” I forced my eyes to look around the room. Anywhere but at him. “In fact, there was nothing even remotely exciting about it at all. Boring, you could say. Dull.”
“Dull? Oh, it didn’t sound dull to me.” I didn’t move a muscle as he pushed even closer to me and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. Shivers danced down my spine, and I worked hard not to let it show. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin below my ear, and he moaned seductively, softly, “Dimitri, oh, yes, Dimitri.”
I ground my teeth together and rammed my elbow deep into his ribs. He grunted, then threw his head back and let loose a boisterous laugh, even as he gripped his side where I’d hit him.
I blinked, too shocked to do anything but stare. In all the time we’d been forced in each other’s presence, I’d never seen him laugh. Reluctantly chuckle, yes. But laugh? Full-blown laughter?
No. I honestly thought I’d die before witnessing such an unlikely event.
I would have never thought a man’s laughter could be a beautiful thing. But staring at Dimitri with his head thrown back and body shaking convinced me otherwise. He should definitely have laughed more.
“Are we ready for round two of the Til Death Games?!” a voice roared from the TVs, and just like that, any trace of laughter and playfulness vanished from between us in an instant like it had never been there to begin with.
The room fell inexplicably silent, everyone waiting on bated breath to see who would be called on next to fight. The camera panned to the massive jumbotron that hung suspended above the arena, revealing the first pair.
Lily Cole and Roger Ward.
There was barely a one-second delay before the guards swarmed forward. Almost as a collective, the other prisoners took one wide step back away from Lily and Roger as if they feared they might be accidentally mistaken for them and taken in their place.
Quickly and efficiently, the guards removed their chains and collars, and shoved them through the open door in front of us, right into the arena.
“We have a special treat for you tonight, ladies and gentlemen. A truly special, special treat. Let’s meet our next team.”
Their faces appeared on the TV, slightly dazed as the announcer continued to introduce them.
“Lily Cole is a master sergeant in the Marines with over thirty-three confirmed kills.” The camera zoomed in right on Lily, giving the crowd plenty of time to admire her.
I was mildly surprised. She was such a little thing. Barely five feet tall. I’d dismissed her as a threat the instant I’d seen her.
The fact that she was a Marine would be both an advantage and disadvantage for her. An advantage because she possessed the necessary skills it took to not only physically take a life, but mentally, too.
And a disadvantage because, as a Marine, she would have some sort of moral compass that may make her hesitate in the arena.
A bad thing for her. A good thing for whomever she faced.
“Weighing in at only ninety pounds, she might seem small and unthreatening, but she is anything but! Her skills guarantee a good fight!”
The crowd let loose a mighty cheer as the camera panned to her partner.
“Roger Ward is someone to watch, folks! President of a vicious motorcycle gang in Las Vegas, he’s dangerous, ruthless and has no qualms getting a little blood on his hands.”
I knew it, I thought. I’d had that guy pegged from the moment I laid eyes on him. There was something dark about him. Something that made me weary. A predator could always sense another predator, and Roger Ward was definitely one.
The announcer continued to talk Lily and Roger up, trying to get the crowd more and more excited for the upcoming fight. They were doing a great job of it. Cheers, whoops and hollers could no doubt be heard for miles.
I looked around the room again. Who would be their opponents?
They would be one hell of a team to beat.
The arena darkened. Anticipation sizzled in my bones.
“Alright! Time to meet their opponents! I have a feeling you guys are gonna love these ones! That’s right! It’s the duo we know you’ve all been dying to see!”
This time, there was no pre-warning about who they would be facing. The guards just came into the group, pushing and shoving prisoners out of the way until they got to who they were after.
Dimitri and I.
Our gazes clashed as the realization hit. We were both jostled roughly as they removed our chains and collars, and then we were pushed through the door into the dark arena. A bright, blinding light shone on us.
“The Bratva Butcher and The Crimson Death!”
The crowd went wild, screaming and cheering so loudly that it became almost disorientating. I forced myself not to look around, not to scan my surroundings like I was so desperate to do. It was unfamiliar terrain. I needed to scout the new environment I was in so I could prepare, but I didn’t want to seem like I was worried, scattered or scared. I needed to portray an easy air as if the whole thing was nothing but a mild inconvenience for me.
Instead, I looked up at Dimitri and couldn’t help but smile brightly at the look of complete and utter shock on his face.
He knew I was an assassin, but he had no idea that the moniker I worked under was no doubt one he’d heard. Usually, I’d be pissed to have my identity revealed, however, in this case, it was totally worth it to see the surprise in his eyes.
“You’re The Crimson Death?” he whispered as the crowd roared for us, clapping their hands and stomping their feet.
I just smiled brighter and said nothing. If we survived, we would have plenty of time to talk after.
“Alright! I see everyone is eager to get the night going! So, why don’t we get to it?! Ladies and gentlemen, round two of the Til Death Games!”
The arena flooded with light and I took everything in quickly. I’d expected to be on sand or rough asphalt, but it was grass beneath my feet. Tiny obstacles were placed haphazardly throughout the space; rocks, boulders, logs. There was even a small stream running from one end of the arena to the other.
Roger and Lily stood on the other side of it, the stream separating us. They must have moved after they’d entered the arena so they would have a chance to acclimate to their surroundings.
Dimitri and I exchanged one last look with each other. Something flashed in his eyes like he wanted to say something, but he was holding himself back. The vibe I got from him—the energy he was giving off—mixed with that look in his eyes made me wonder what it was that he was thinking about.
He looked almost… remorseful. As if he’d come to some sort of decision, but it was one he wasn’t entirely happy about.
Before I could question him on it, music blasted in the arena. Something dark and bassy that fit with the current mood of events. We both turned to face our opponents, letting the moment pass.
Across the arena, standing on the other side of the small stream, Lily and Roger stared us down.
Excitement burnt in my veins. I loved to fight. Nothing got my blood pumping quite like it. I knew it was a life or death situation, but if anything, that made me even more excited. One wrong move and it was all over.
The thought was exhilarating. I was an adrenaline junkie and this… This was the fix I needed.
Dimitri and I spread out as we inched forward, making sure not to go too far away from each other. We had come up with a plan. Whichever pair we faced, I would take the woman and he would take the man. We would keep each other well within our sights at all times. That way, if anything happened, we would be close enough to help if need be.
I honed in on Lily, watching her every move. I noticed two weapons: an axe and what looked like a machete. It would be a race to see who could get to them first.
There was a brief standstill, all of us staring at each other across the arena, the tension rising and rising, and then things kicked into high gear like the flick of a switch.
We bolted across the field, me going for Lily, Dimitri going for Roger, the crowd cheering us on, the music blasting loudly around us. Lily and I clashed in a fury of fists, swinging violently. We kicked and punched, exchanging strike for strike, locked into a grapple to try and gain the upper hand.
She was very good, her training from the Marines coming through loud and fucking clear. She moved well, hit hard and wasn’t showing an ounce of hesitation like I thought someone in her profession might.
“I’m really sorry about this,” she grunted, taking a hit to her gut like a fucking champ. “But I’ve got to win, and that means I have to kill you.” She sounded sincere. Like she truly felt bad about it.
That was the clear difference between us. I didn’t feel bad at all. I would do whatever I needed to do to survive, and if that meant killing everyone, then so be it.
“You think you can?” I ducked and swerved, barely managing to avoid her.
“I know I can. I’ve seen you fight, but I’m better.”
Was she?
We were about to find out.
We threw more punches and then, by some stroke of luck, Lily slipped, losing her footing. The opportunity to take the lead flashed before my eyes, and I rolled along the grass to pick up the machete on the ground. I swung it towards Lily’s head. She dove out of the way and scrambled back, her frantic gaze searching for something to use. A shield plopped down in front of her, someone from the crowd throwing it down to her. She picked it up quickly and blocked my next strike.
Son of a bitch.
I hacked at it over and over, the sound of metal on metal blasting through the air. She kept it up regardless of how hard I swung the machete, protecting herself. I kicked it away, but before I could strike again, she slammed her foot into my shin.
Pain rocketed up my leg, and I stumbled. She kicked again, this time hitting the centre of my chest, and the force pushed me back far enough for her to be able to get up and charge me.
She tackled me, and we both went tumbling to the ground. The machete flew out of my hands. I used all of my strength to keep her from getting the dominant position, the two of us rolling along the grass. If she managed to get on top, it would all be over.
With one last heave, I pushed hard, slamming her down with my hands on her shoulders. Her head whacked against a log, and she groaned. I clambered over her quickly, going right for her leg. I needed to take her out, and the best way to do that was to incapacitate her. My arms locked around her knee, and then I reared back with everything I had.
Something snapped, and she screamed.
The crowd roared so loudly that it hurt my ears. I thought it was because of us, but when I looked up, my eyes widened in horror.
Everything around me slowed down as if someone had just paused time. Roger was on top of Dimitri, his arm raised in the air with a rock in his hand, preparing to hit him in the face with it. An attack that close from a weapon like that would be game over.
I was moving before I even realised it, sprinting across the field as fast as I could. A feeling smothered my chest… One I’d never felt before, but there was no mistaking it.
It was fear.
Fear for Dimitri.
I didn’t know why, but seeing him like that caused an overwhelming urge to take over. The urge to protect him. Save him. Not to let him die.
I ran harder than I’d ever ran before.
I slammed into Roger with the force of a freight train, tackling him off Dimitri just in time. One second later, and it would have been too late. We rolled along the ground, fighting for the dominant position. He was a lot bigger than me, and heavier, too. Despite the fact that I’d taken him completely by surprise, he still managed to put up a good enough fight to make it difficult to gain the upper hand.
In the end, I decided to top from the bottom.
We came to a stop. He might have been the one on top, but I was in charge. My arms were wound tightly around his neck, my legs around his torso in a textbook rear naked choke.
He struggled, but I held tight.
Dimitri appeared, his face dark and murderous, an axe in his hand. He swung hard, lodging it deep in Roger’s perfectly exposed chest in a brutally powerful swing.
Roger bellowed in agony, his whole body bucking above me. I let go and scrambled out from underneath him just as Dimitri took another swing. This one took his whole arm off, blood splattering everywhere, drenching Dimitri from head to toe, but that didn’t stop him or slow him down.
I watched as he hacked and hacked and hacked into Roger, not even stopping when the man was long dead. Arousal bloomed in my stomach.
The Butcher, ladies and gentlemen, had entered the building, and I was all fucking for it.
Nothing turned me on more than fighting and murder.
As much as I didn’t want to, I turned away and started making my way back to Lily. She wasn’t where I’d left her. She was curled up in a ball, clutching her chest and sobbing quietly only a few feet away. She must have been trying to get to Roger to help him, but it would have been impossible to do that quickly with the damage I’d caused to her knee.
I picked up the machete, kicked Lily onto her back and then swung hard, embedding the blade deep into her forehead. Her face, dirty and wet with tears, froze in a mixture of horror and pain before her entire body slumped to the ground.
The crowd released an ear-splitting, thunderous cheer, chanting, “Deadly Duo! Deadly Duo!” over and over again.
To be honest, I didn’t really mind the nickname. It kind of fit.
Dimitri stepped up to my side. I turned to look at him. Holding an axe, absolutely drenched in blood and gore, the man had never looked hotter.
“Your winners of round two of the Til Death Games! The Bratva Butcher and The Crimson Death!”
