BEAU2Y (Beauty Part 2): Blaire's World Read online

  Hart spun on his heel and came to stand before me, the knife presented in his palm.

  “Here love, finish him off, hmmm?”

  “But he hurt you,” I pointed out, hesitating to take the weapon. This was Hart’s chance for revenge, and I knew he would need more than the paltry bellows and weak splatter of blood he’d only just begun to extract.

  “Hardly, he had one of his men beat me because he has weak wrists, or at least I assume that’s the reason. Anyway, I like to watch you work, it makes me hard as fucking steel.” As his voice lowered, so did my gaze, dropping to the obvious hardness behind his zipper. It had been too long since I’d felt that hardness slide through my hand or between my lips. My core throbbed, wanting and needing Hart in a way I had yet to experience. Taking my hand in his, Hart pressed the knife into it, and whispered, “He’s yours to destroy. Let me watch, then, I’m going to take you upstairs into the shower, and I’m going to press your body against the tiled wall and fuck you hard and deep.” Heck yes, I thought, my cheeks heating. “Alright?” I could barely think straight to answer but did manage a shaky nod. “Good girl.”

  Another kiss to my forehead and Hart stepped away, leaving Eddie all for me. While I wanted to drag out his torture and prolong his death so that he might be imprisoned in a world of pain, I also wanted to be with Hart. I was going to have to be quick about this.

  “Tell me,” the red-faced demon growled as I approached him, “did you cry when your virginity was pounded out of your body?”

  So much for quick. There was no thinking about what would come next, there was simply a primal and brutal response to the taunt. Pulling my arm back, I slammed the knife into his flank. Sweet, holy screams almost drowned out Doris.

  “When I was just a little girl, I asked my father what will I be, will I be crazy, will I be mad, will I stab him endlessly . . .” I sang the Doris Day classic using my own words. Taking a few steps back I watched the small trickle of blood pool at the wound, only a few scant drops escaping the blade still embedded in his flesh. Continuing to sing, I wandered around the room searching for another weapon. I loved this improvising shit. While the room was full of instruments designed for torture, well, sexual torture, I wanted something else, something different. Something hot, a flame perhaps? The sudden idea that leaped into my mind would be spectacular. A blowtorch! After-all, I had told Ruby I’d burn his dirty balls to ash.

  “Be right back,” I called to Hart before racing up the stairs, through the house and into the large, spacious garage. Everything was tidy and in place, the kind of methodical order I found myself wanting to mess up a little. Checking the shelves and cupboards, I sighed with disappointment when I couldn’t find a blowtorch, or at least what I thought might be a blowtorch. I wasn’t sure I’d actually ever seen one before. Looking over the vast array of tools hanging from the wall, my gaze landed on something else. Bingo! My slow smile made the cut on my lip sting, and my swollen cheek throb. The reminder of Eddie’s abuse made me even more excited to try the battery operated hand drill I was staring at. Using a stepladder, I lifted the tool from its place and tested that it worked before skipping back through the house and down into the dungeon of debauchery. Hart was standing with his arms crossed, a curious look on his battered face which morphed to something akin to excitement when he saw what I was carrying. I came to a standstill before the hanging slab of soon-to-be-dead-meat who was muttering under his breath, saliva hanging from his panting lips. Spinning Eddie around, I held the drill to his spine and pressed the trigger. Absolute perfection. The flesh caught and split easily as the drill bit twisted its way into his body. Tendons became tangled around the steel and blood began to squirt from the wound. Eddie continued to scream and sob, and once I could go no further, I tried to pull the drill free only to find it well and truly stuck. Hart’s body crowded mine from behind, the hardness at his groin pressing into my buttocks as he reached over my shoulder and flicked a button on the drill.

  “Try that,” he whispered in my ear, kissing the lobe before moving away.

  Pressing the trigger again, the drill bit reversed and unwound from flesh coming free with only a little blood and goop hanging from its tip.

  “Thank you,” I offered, blowing Hart a kiss before returning my attention to other parts of Eddie’s body. “You know, I remember them,” I murmured, moving to his front once more. Bloodshot eyes met mine, the pain in their depths utterly electrifying. “All the men who came here, all the sick fucks who raped their way through your housekeepers and prostitutes, all the businessmen who paid you so dearly for anonymity. They thought they were safe, untouchable.” Leaning forward, I whispered. “They’re not. They’ll end up just like you.”

  Pressing the drill to his gut, I threatened to dig it into his flesh, applying just a little pressure but not enough to tangle in his skin. Eddie let a pained plea slip from his lips.

  “What was that?” I asked

  “No more . . . please.”

  I didn’t want to hear please, I wanted to hear sorry, but even that wouldn’t be enough. Sinking to my knees so my eyes were level with his, I whispered, “This is for my mom.”

  Pulling the trigger, I pushed my way into his flesh once more drilling deep into his stomach. By the time I untangled the device from his body, he’d clearly gone into shock, pain and blood loss sending him toward the oblivion that is death. It all seemed too fast, too easy, and yet, he was far too unimportant a man to waist any more time on. Gazing into his eyes, I saw it. The gravity of the situation had finally gotten through, that stubborn arrogance had been quelled under my hands. Death breathed down his throat, and Eddie was fucking scared.

  Standing, I backed away from him, allowing the drill to drop to the floor. Hart held out my gun with its beautiful silencer still attached, and I took it from his outstretched hand. Turning to face Eddie once more, I stepped forward and held the barrel to his head.

  “And this is for Lucy.”

  Bang!

  It was done. Eddie was no more. Pain had been delivered, blood had been spilled, a black soul had been destroyed. It wouldn’t right all the wrongs he had committed, but it would ensure he never touched another girl again. It would also send a message to others in this wretched world who sought to possess, dominate, and devastate the innocent. Hart and Beauty were a formidable team that couldn’t be separated. No matter how fierce one might think they are, they would eventually beg for mercy at our hands.

  Taking a deep breath, I watched Eddie’s lifeless body sway gently before us. It almost felt anticlimactic. We needed sparklers and streamers, and fucking balloons! There was no time to admire the macabre results of our playtime. Instead, I was scooped into Hart’s arms where I wrapped my legs around his waist and pressed my lips to his. Hart’s tongued masterfully chased mine, his lips sucking and biting. Grinding my core shamelessly against his hard cock drew a throaty groan from the man that reverberated through his chest. Without warning I let out a little yelp as I was repositioned bridal style in Harts arms and carried out of the basement. I could see the pain in his eyes as he carried me through the empty house, but I didn’t ask him to put me down. I wanted to be close to him, like this. At the second floor, Hart quickly found the bathroom and kicked the door shut behind us.

  “Undress,” he gruffly ordered after lowering me to the ground.

  One would think that commands and I had a love hate relationship, as in “I loved to hate them”, however the moment Hart growled that one, simple, word, I was dropping my stretchy yoga pants to the floor, panties and all. Somehow the moment had become a race, both of us impatiently shedding our clothes with painful winces. I won. Deciding to skip the victory dance, I stumbled into the large shower cubicle and turned on the water, getting it just shy of scalding. Hart prowled into the space behind me, his tone body painfully beautiful even with the vast array of ugly bruises in varying shades of red and deep, dark purple. I watched him stalk forward, the raw, unadulterated hunger burning so fiercely in
his eyes filled my stomach with butterflies. Just like he promised he lifted me, pressing my back to the cold tiles, his forearms dipping under my thighs and holding me obscenely open. There were no words, just his mouth on mine, his body holding me trapped in the most seductive of ways, and his cock lined up to enter me. My first willing time, and Hart held us both there for a moment, his tip teasing my entrance.

  I burned for him.

  I needed him.

  Like this.

  Right now.

  “Please Hart, I’m begging you, complete me.”

  The moment I breathed those words into his ear, he thrust forward and entered me until he could go no further. We were joined in the most intimate of ways, both our body and our souls.

  “Next time I’ll show you slow, but now, I need to fuck you hard.”

  And so he did. My body jerked violently with each thrust, and my back pressed almost painfully into the tile, but the combined friction against my clit, and Hart’s powerful body powering in and out of mine pushed me quickly towards an orgasm. It was slick, hard, and demanding and I fucking loved it. There was no hate in this moment, there was no anger, there was no control. It was both of us giving what the other needed and it was simply beautiful. My body was filled with aches and pain, but all of it was washed away by pleasure. Hart continued to kiss me, on my lips, neck, ears, wherever he could reach, his mouth never leaving my flesh. My pussy throbbed and from my thighs my orgasm began, creeping up the insides of my legs and vibrating through my core. With a scream, I threw my head back and came hard, pulsing around Hart’s cock and trying to drag him deeper inside me, trying to hold him there for eternity.

  “My perfect fucking Beauty,” he growled, grunting savagely as he too came hard.

  We stayed like that for the longest time, Hart wrapped around me, and me around him. No longer two, we were joined as one, like we were always meant to be.

  “Never again,” Hart murmured, his voice rough with emotion. I knew he wasn’t talking about the moment we had just shared, but rather the abduction and forced time apart we had endured. I shivered as his hands rubbed my thighs, coasting over the pale, barely discernible cuts I’d etched into my skin while we were back in Russia.

  “And no more of that,” he whispered. “I’m not going to let you hurt yourself anymore.”

  All the times I’d sliced the fine marks into my flesh, I assumed he had no idea. But of course, he knew, Hart knew everything. Why I thought I could keep such a secret seemed almost ridiculous now.

  “I know every inch of your body, every scar . . . old and new.” Lifting my chin with his finger, his resolute gaze caught mine. “Promise me.”

  Lifting my pinky, I held it for him to link with mine. With our hands joined, I used my thighs to press my body higher before falling back down his slick cock. Hart was still hard, and my want for him barely sated. This time, I rode him, slow at first, then wild and carefree as we remained tangled in each other’s embrace.

  18

  HART

  From down stairs I could still hear Marisol fussing over Ruby.

  “Are you hungry?” she had asked more than once.

  There was no reply, but I assumed it was the same sharp shake of her head she’d been giving Marisol for the last half hour.

  “Are you thirsty?”

  No.

  “Are you cold?”

  No.

  And so it went on, and on. The house had been cleaned of the dead, the blood scrubbed away with bleach and the surfaces wiped down thoroughly. Raul was now standing just inside Beauty’s bedroom door grinning at me while I leaned on the opposite side of the doorway.

  “What?”

  “Nothing Jefe,” he shrugged.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I continued to stare at him as he smiled knowingly at me. It was quickly pissing me off.

  “Talk, or I’ll have Henry replace you as my second.”

  “I’m your second?”

  Instead of answering him, I glared.

  “Okay, okay,” he finally relented, raising his hands. “I was just thinking, since I saved you, perhaps I am owed a pay rise.”

  Raising a brow, I didn’t dare speak. His ridiculous words didn’t even warrant an answer. My team was paid obscenely well, and I hadn’t any need for a rescue. I had everything well in hand.

  “You didn’t save him, I did.”

  Beauty’s voice came from inside the wardrobe. She was rifling through clothes and making sure there wasn’t anything she wanted to keep before we left, for good.

  “Ahhh, hermosa, if it weren’t for my backup, you wouldn’t have had the numbers to rescue Hart.”

  “I didn’t need rescuing,” I said at the same time that Beauty said Raul was full of shit.

  “Raul, get out of my sight before I decide to leave you here with Jamison, hmmm?”

  Pulling something from his pocket, he grinned knowingly.

  “When you see what I have for you, I think you’ll change your mind.”

  “You have nothing I want.”

  Holding out his palm he presented me with Beauty’s fine gold chain, the little red heart still hanging from it. The chain itself had been snapped but was easy enough to replace. After we’d sent the water ice cold in the shower, Beauty confessed she’d lost the necklace with fresh tears on her face. Tears I’d demanded she cease immediately. I assured her I’d replace it with something extra special as soon as I could, but this was a hundred times better than any new gift I might find.

  “One of Jamison’s men found it tangled around the meaty fist of a dead merc.”

  Taking it from Raul’s hand, I said “Twenty percent raise, and the use of my cottage in London for four weeks of the year.”

  “Deal,” Raul replied with a grin before turning to leave.

  Pushing off the wall, I took in the space that Beauty had grown up in. Considering the rest of the house was opulent, this room was little more than a hovel. The furniture clearly old and likely picked up at a thrift store, and there were absolutely no personal touches other than the rather beautiful painting on the wall above the bed. There were no posters a teenage girl would normally desecrate her walls with, no photos, no useless trinkets. It was lonely and made me want to revive Edward only to kill the fucker all over again.

  “There’s nothing I want from here.”

  Beauty slammed the door to a tall wardrobe closed and turned to face me with her hands on her hips. She was banged and bruised, but still looked a vision. She also looked much younger than her nineteen years, dressed in black skinny jeans, a grey cropped shirt that slipped off one pale shoulder, and her hair pulled into a pony tail. The things I wanted to do to her felt decidedly more wicked with her looking so fucking young.

  “You wanna fool around in the bed?”

  Her words caught me by surprise, shocking me out of my wicked thoughts. With a girlish giggle, she took a running jump, and I barely caught her. My back slammed into the wall behind us as pain lanced my ribs. Pain I could deal with, losing Beauty again, I could not. Her lips crushed mine, the taste on her tongue raspberry cola that she had gulped back in the kitchen only several minutes ago. The way she pressed against my body had my cock jump to attention. Hell, the way this woman fit me was frightening. She fit my body, she fit my world, she fit my soul, and if I had a heart I’d guess she’d fit that too. When she finally broke away for air, I ground my cock against her core, the fabric separating us immediately becoming my enemy.

  “I want to go home,” she whispered.

  Those words didn’t dull my libido, but they enabled me to find the strength to give her one last kiss before returning her to her feet. Taking her hand in mine, I flattened out her palm and placed the necklace in the middle of it. Those big blue eyes shot to mine with questions burning.

  “Raul found it.”

  “I’m going to kiss him,” she whispered.

  “You most certainly are not,” I argued.

  “It’s broken,” she noted, comple
tely ignoring me.

  “I’ll have it fixed tomorrow.”

  Finding a little box in one of the dresser drawers, she stowed the necklace away for safe keeping and gave her room one more look.

  “Hold on, there is something I want.”

  Climbing atop her bed, she stretched her arms wide and struggled to lift the marionette style ballerina painting from the wall. Moving her gently to one side, I easily took the art piece down and followed her out of the bedroom. There were no sentimental backwards glances as we strolled out the front doors. Instead Beauty skipped toward the SUV where Henry and Raul waited for us. Much to my displeasure she smacked a kiss to Raul’s cheek and much to Henry’s horror, hugged him.

  “This once only,” I growled at a very haughty looking Raul.

  Marisol still fussed over Ruby but was forced to step away as Jamison guided the young girl towards another car.

  “They’re taking her straight home, right?” Beauty asked, yet again.

  “Straight home, my love.”

  At the car door, Ruby paused and looked back in our direction. That hesitation got Beauty moving. With quick steps she approached Ruby and pulled her in for a firm hug. The girl was still and awkward in Beauty’s embrace, her fists clenched by her sides.

  “You’ve got this. You’re safe now, and if anyone ever tries to hurt you again you call me, we can do movie night after I spill some blood.”

  Stepping back she gave Ruby a sure nod. The timid girl’s glassy eyes reluctantly left Beauty as she climbed into the back of the car. Once it was moving and headed down the long drive, only then did Beauty move too.

  “We will be watching her for some time to come, she will be safe,” I murmured as we made our way back to the SUV that would take us to the airport.

  “She is so young,” Marisol continued to cry, unchecked tears rolling down her face as we approached. The woman was a sobbing mess. I didn’t do well with tears, and it made me second guess my offer to take Marisol with us. When Beauty had pulled me aside and begged me to allow the woman who had essentially been her only mother figure to come home with us, I’d been ready to say no. I liked my privacy and once I had Beauty in my house, we’d need it. I planned on fucking her in every room and on every piece of furniture I owned. Somehow I’d found myself willing to do something I’d never done before . . . compromise. Beauty’s face, full of wistful hope, was too much to deny. So, Marisol would come home with us, and would live in a guest lodge on the outskirts of my property. Close enough for Beauty to visit, and close enough to care for my home while we were away on business.