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Arching a brow, he steps back, shrugs out of his jacket, and drops it on the floor. “Fine.”
He peels off his shirt, letting me admire the canvas of faint scars crossing his chiseled pecs and defined abs. The screens behind him reflect a beautifully muscled back, also lined with faint scars he must have gotten through nearly a decade of being trained as an assassin.
Eyes never leaving mine, his hand slides down to his belt buckle. In my periphery, multiple versions of Xero loosen their flies. Before I know it, he’s toed off his shoes and slipped down his pants, revealing that impossibly huge cock and all its piercings.
I can’t help but lick my lips.
“See something you like, little ghost?” he asks with a wicked grin.
My fingers tighten around the dagger, and I close the distance between us, running the tip of its blade over his nipples, down his abs, before finally resting at the base of his cock.
Xero hisses, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Careful with that knife,” he says, his voice a teasing purr. “You don’t want to accidentally nick something you might enjoy.”
“Get on your knees.”
In an instant, he’s taken the dagger out of my hands and pressed it against my throat. Those cold blue eyes bore deeply into my soul, making the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “You first.”
Shit.
Note to self: Fine-tune my disarming techniques.
I drop to my knees, my eyes never leaving his. “Happy now?”
“Move our clothes behind the screen so we’re not blocking any of the cameras.”
With a huff, I gather up my corset, Xero’s shoes and socks. I reach for the belt, but he plucks it and the rope from the pile. Heat floods my pussy at the thought of what he’ll do to me next, and I stifle a groan.
I rise to walk to the other side of the screen room, when Xero places a hand on my head and says, “Crawl.”
My breath quickens. “How am I going to carry the clothes when I’m on my hands and knees?”
“Put them between your teeth.”
He takes my leather corset and his shoes from the pile and places them on my back like I’m a little pack horse. Then he shoves my head down into the pile of clothes and makes me pick them up between my teeth.
“Asshole,” I say through a mouthful of fabric.
“Do I need to give you a count of ten?”
“No.” I crawl on my hands and knees, my cheeks flaming. I won Xero’s little challenge. I survived sixty seconds and even kneed him in the balls. How the hell is this my reward?
When I reach the screen, I place our items in a small pile and turn around, knowing better not to walk back. My gaze drops to the images beneath my body, and the sight of my swaying breasts makes me moan.
I glance over my shoulder to see myself from behind, noting my reddened ass cheeks. Xero is in the background, standing like an obscene work of art with his cock piercings glinting in the artificial light.
“See how beautiful you look on camera?” he asks, his eyes blazing behind the mask.
My cheeks heat. With my curls pulled straight and the mask covering the top half of my face, I could be someone else. A woman with a complete life and a complete memory, exploring her kinks with the man she loves.
Love?
It certainly isn’t hate or even fear. I like him, and when he isn’t being a tyrant, he’s the sweet, sensitive man who wrote me those heartfelt letters. Xero accepts me, even with my dirty secrets and fractured past. He chases away the delusions and drives me to be stronger, while unlocking keys to my sexuality I thought were long lost.
I used to sit at home in a semi-stupor, wondering when my life would begin, but being with Xero makes me realize I'm truly living. How can I not love a man who makes me feel the intensity of every emotion?
“Come here.” His deep voice breaks me out of my thoughts.
I crawl toward him, closing the distance, and kneel at his feet.
