The Bad Man
He could smell her.
Smilingly wryly at the ceiling, Raizo was amused that Mika was having trouble falling asleep next to him. Her heart, with its unusual positioning, beat rapidly in her chest as she pointedly avoided rolling over to get more comfortable. In a way he was grateful she didn’t, because Raizo didn’t really feel like explaining the giant tent he was pitching just now.
Because if she saw it, they’d have to have “the conversation.”
And if they were to have that conversation—which he was actually eager to have—then they’d have to have that other conversation which, for now, he was more than content to do without.
There was just so much he hadn’t told her.
For starters, Raizo was a bad man, and he didn’t have trouble admitting it. And his “badness” had absolutely nothing to do with the whole merciless killing machine thing he had going—no, no, no…his issues were much, much, much, much, much older and deeper than that.
Raizo sometimes fantasized about talking to a psychiatrist. Not because he felt he needed therapy, but because he always thought it would be amusing to see the look on a shrink’s face when he told her his story and unveiled his scars. But if he were to actually self-examine in a therapy session, he supposed he would say the source of his “badness” was selfishness. His darkest, probably most shameful secret which he could never admit to Mika in a million years was that he’d actually liked being honed and sculpted into a vicious, unstoppable assassin.
In fact, he’d liked it so much he was willing to leave his first love to her fate. So much that he’d stood by and done nothing during Kiriko’s execution.
And now…he was being selfish with Mika Coretti.
If Raizo were to continue being honest with himself, then he’d have to admit Mika was no longer in any real danger from the clans. The only clan really targeting her had been the Ozunu, and they were all either dead or very soon to be dead…or dying somewhere very slowly and painfully right now. Her probing and prodding had humiliated the Ozunu; she’d found them when they were supposed nothing more than a myth, and a shadow of a myth.
In a way, she’d been their undoing. And now that they were all dead, the other clans actually had her to thank.
So…if Raizo were to be completely honest with himself, he’d have to face the fact that the longer Mika hung out with him, the closer she came to danger.
But of course…he wasn’t going to tell her that.
Whoever invented perfume was a fool; the scent of a woman was indeed the most electrifying, intoxicating force in the universe. Now that Mika no longer indulged fragrances of any sort, Raizo could smell her, the real her, and she smelled marvelous. She liked all things pineapple; she drank a glass of organic pineapple juice every morning with a bran muffin and ate a can of pineapple slices in water every afternoon. The sweet smell oozed through her pores, coupling with her own scent, and quite naturally, causing him to pitch a tent.
Raizo sighed, brushing his long hair out of his face. Guess she’s not the only one who’s having trouble sleeping.
He smirked, recalling how appalled Mika looked when she finally emerged from the bathroom (some nine years later) and saw him lounging on the bed with a book, wearing nothing but his black jockeys, his right leg propped up and the light from the nightstand lamp splashing all over his body.
Raizo snickered, remembering how long it had taken to pry her own jaw off the floor.
Of course, the second he recalled the sight of her high, perky dark breasts, he stopped snickering and his breath immediately caught in his throat. Her clothing was deceptive; her plain shirts and her leather jacket lied about how round and heavy her breasts were…but it was the type of lie he could forgive.
He looked over at her back, watching her breathing finally even out as she began to slowly drift off to sleep. He listened to her heart, waiting for it to hit the rhythm which indicated sleep, and once it did, he reached for her shoulder without hesitance and rolled her onto her back.
I’m going to hell. I’m going to burn there for a thousand years.
Not that it stopped Raizo from pushing down the bedcovers and sliding the plain white T-shirt up her dark, slender body, revealing its perfectly smooth skin. He pushed the T-shirt up past her breasts and upon glimpsing them once more, felt a dangerous tremor ripple through him.
I’m going to hell.
The plastic surgeon had done wonders with her scar; already the skin between her breasts was healing magnificently. The heavy globes rose and fell slowly, torturing him with every breath…he felt his skin flush and his head swim and pound as down below his waist, he painfully strained towards her.
I’m going to hell.
It would be worth it, though. Taking the left nipple into his mouth and savoring the taste of unscented skin…massaging both breasts, feeling their weight and warmth…it was more than worth it.
Of course, tasting and massaging soon fell to feverish kissing and exploring, and it came as no surprise to Raizo that he lost control so quickly. He actually gave himself some credit for lasting this long; he’d had to hold himself back for weeks now while that Ryan Maslow guy had spent every day trying to talk Mika out of going away with “that ninja”.
The dark, secret selfishness in Raizo defiantly raised its head; anger bubbled and burned in his blood as he fully succumbed to and admitted his desire to himself. He had known he wanted Mika—he’d have to be blind and stupid not to—but it had never occurred to him he wanted her this badly. He hadn’t imagined the craving bordered on madness. In fact, only now, while thinking of that idiot Maslow and feeling a violent wave of annoyance, did Raizo realize just how possessive of her he really felt.
Mika suddenly moaned in her sleep, instinctively arching her back into his blistering hot kisses, probably thinking it was all a dream. Smirking, Raizo deviously nipped at her skin; he could live with her thinking it was all a dream…at least, this time.
The second moan, however, was louder, filling the hushed room and nearly sending him over the edge.
I shouldn’t have walked in on her, he chided himself. It was a mistake.
It made it even harder to stay away.
“Hard” was understatement; at some point, he’d unknowingly slipped between her legs to access her breasts more comfortably head on. Now he was brushing against her below the waist with every subtle movement and it was driving him so crazy he was starting to leak.
I miscalculated, he mentally kicked himself. I might have been able to hold out a little longer if I hadn’t gone in to give her the damn T-shirt.
I showed her mine, another part of him thought defensively. I’m always showing her mine. I’m always taking off my shirts in front of her, always walking past her with nothing but a towel around my hips to and from the bathroom.
I just thought it would be nice for her to reciprocate for a change.
After touching himself while listening to her shower countless times now, Raizo’s “curiosity” had finally won out. He thought a peek would be harmless, playful even. He perversely relished the look on Mika’s face when the bathroom door opened and he gotten to witness her in all her naked glory.
Well, not all her naked glory.
Reaching down on an impulse, Raizo took hold off her cotton panties and deftly stripped them away (he had no clue how he’d explain it in the morning) before impatiently pushing her smooth, dark thighs far, far apart, until she was completely open to him. Urgency coursed through him, speeding up his breathing and heart rate.
Breasts were not enough; he had to see more, know more, taste more. The days to come were not going to be easy for either of them, and it might be a very long while before he’d get a chance to drag her off somewhere by her hair and do every single filthy, unspeakable thing he fantasized about doing to her night after night after night.
So in the meantime, he would need something to tie him over before it drove him completely mad. Bringing his face down between her thighs, he pried her labia apart with his fingers.
Indeed…she tasted sweet. He held her legs firmly apart as he buried his mouth between them, tasting a faint hint of pineapple. He was throbbing and straining so powerfully against the mattress now that he knew if he didn’t stop soon, he was just going to give in this insanity and take her.
And when she wakes up while I’m plowing into her like a psycho, I’ll explain that… how, exactly?
Mika moaned in her sleep again and again, head rolling side to side as he pleasured her mercilessly again and again. Her noises shut down all thinking, driving Raizo to simply soldier on. He toyed with her, explored her, satisfying as many questions his body had about hers as possible.
The first orgasm ripped through Mika like a tidal wave, waking her. She lay disoriented for a moment, trying to make sense of reality, as her blurry vision slowly cleared. That’s when she caught a glimpse of long, silk black moving between her thighs, sending electric, subsequent ripples through her. Mika blinked, certain she was still asleep.
He seemed to be…busy at the moment; so busy, in fact, he didn’t hear his name the first time. Mika was torn between succumbing and demanding to know what the hell he thought he was doing taking advantage of sleeping woman.
But he was…busy…and he was good at being busy.
Her breath started coming in gasps and she was having a little trouble sitting up (he’d cupped her buttocks, lifted her off the bed, and she was unable to stop her legs from linking ankles around his neck).
“Raizo…,” she weakly tried protesting once more, even as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her heart thudded so hard she thought it was going to explode.
That finally stopped him. He looked up at Mika, blinking several times as if to clear his head before gently setting down her hips.
She suddenly wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
She thought he was going to move away from, and apologize while he did so. Instead, Raizo stared at her for a moment, trembling as though at war with himself over something.
His ridiculously sculpted body shook with whatever he was trying to hold back, and he bit that perfect bottom lip of his as if to prevent himself from speaking.
“Raizo,” Mika murmured, finally forcing herself to sit up (and noticing he was still kneeling between her legs, refusing to budge), “what are you—”
He reached out with feline reflex, grabbing a hold of her T-shirt’s neckline. With one jerk, he stripped the entire thing from her body and hurled it across the hotel room. Mika’s mouth fell open as she watched him sigh—relieved, it seemed—to see her completely naked before him.
As if he’d been waiting to see her naked…and for a long time.
Mika’s heart pounded. Has he? Is that what walking in on me was all about?
“Oh, Mika, Mika,” Raizo shook his head, chuckling very faintly, lips twisting in a wry smile. “Mika, Mika, Mika….” He slid his thumbs into the waist of his jockeys and shoved them down.
Mika stopped breathing.
“Mika,” he breathed, moving in, pushing her down onto the mattress and pinning her there with his body, his burning skin pressing against hers. He touched his forehead to hers, boldly looking into her eyes as he held her hips firmly in place…and slowly worked himself into her. He was slick, leaking, pulsing like an animal.
Her body instinctively resisted at first, prompting him to move his hips in slow, dangerous movement, filling her with deliberate strokes and creating mind-numbing friction. Her eyes closed to his and she couldn’t stop them. Nor could she stop her own body from jerking upward to receive every inch of him, nor could stop her fingers from sinking into his soft, shimmering midnight hair.
So silky…just as I always thought.
In vain, she tried to speak.
“Shhhh,” he hushed her softly. The tender whisper starkly contrasted the quickening rhythm. Sensuous stroking was rapidly turning into honest, impatient pounding, causing the bed itself to lightly squeak in protest.
Mika gave up speech. The demanding movements of his body rendered to a clawing, head-rolling, trembling mass of moans and gasps. There was a wickedness in the pleasure he gave her; even as she could barely focus she was aware he was watching and relishing her every reaction.
He liked how that he could do this to her, make her lose control and react to him this way.
He liked taking relentless command of her body, forcing it to obey only him.
The bed went from lightly squeaking to loudly creaking now, harmonizing with the rush of cries from Mika. She couldn’t take much more of this…couldn’t handle anything else….
Raizo must have sensed this, because he chose that moment to lean in, brush her right ear with his deviously full lips, and instead of moan, gasp, or murmur, he bluntly spoke to her with his usual bass tone which came out so low, deep, and unflinching it almost sounded like a growl.
“Mika…you taste just like pineapple.”