Growl ran his finger over my breast, then slowly down my stomach until it came to rest over my clit. I shuddered, still too sensitive for his touch.
“This was the first time you were loud.”
My already hot face heated even more. “Loud?” I glanced toward the curtain-covered window, worried about the neighbors. Had they heard anything?
“Don’t worry about them. They don’t care if that bastard from across the street beats his wife to a bloody pulp. They won’t give a shit about you screaming your head off because you’re getting off.”
I stared at him. His dirty language still got me sometimes. But he was right. I’d lost count of the times I’d heard the woman from across the street scream, and nothing had ever happened.Growl
Watching her touch herself was the hottest thing Growl had ever seen. God, he’d told other women to do the same thing for him but it had always looked false and wrong. But with Cara, she’d really let loose. She trusted him in bed. It was more than he deserved for sure.
He’d wanted many things in life. He’d wanted to possess, to destroy, to subdue. He’d never wanted to be kind to someone, or be with someone beyond the simple act of fucking. He’d fucked many women; none of them had meant anything to him. He didn’t despise women. He didn’t like them less than men. He just didn’t like humans in general. They were back-stabbing, disloyal creatures. That’s why he preferred the company of his dogs. They wouldn’t wait for him to sleep to kill him. If one of his Pitts wanted to kill him, he’d take his face off in the middle of the day. Growl liked it better that way.
Cara was sprawled on the bed beside him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her peaked nipples even pinker than usual against her white skin. A few trickles of sweat trailed down her stomach and he had to stop himself from licking them off her skin. He needed to talk to her, not distract himself with another round of sex. Though the sight of her naked, finally without shame, made it hard to contain himself.
Cara turned her head, raising her eyebrows. “There’s a funny look on your face. Did I do something wrong?” Two pink spots appeared on her cheekbones and he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He didn’t know why. He’d never done it. Never even thought about doing it. The forehead wasn’t a very interesting place for a kiss. Cara was turning him upside down, that was for sure. “You did nothing wrong.”
Surprise filled her pretty face. Even she didn’t understand why he’d done it, and she was usually good at emotions and human actions.
She put a hand on his chest. A small gesture that didn’t make sense either. Perhaps not everything had to make sense. “Are you alright?”
“I will help you,” he said firmly.
She blinked. “Help me?” Her hand against his skin began to tremble. “You mean with Falcone?”
Growl nodded. There was no turning back now. He’d made his decision and nothing would stop him. He’d die if necessary. She would be worth it. “I will help you get revenge.”Cara
I couldn’t believe it. I’d hoped for it of course, dreamed about it. But it had seemed unlikely, impossible. Growl was Falcone’s man, his most feared assassin. How could I have changed that?
“So let me get this straight,” I said slowly, wanting to make sure that I wasn’t getting things wrong. “You want to help me get revenge, even though you never tried to get revenge for what Falcone did to you and your mother? Why? I don’t get it. You don’t even liked my father.”
Shut up, Cara. My mind was screaming at me, but I needed to know. I was starting to accept that for some reason part of me felt something for the man in front of me. And I needed to know if he did too.
“It’s not because of your father. I don’t care that he’s dead.” The words barely stung anymore. I’d gotten used Growl’s harsh words. He was honest, that was something I appreciated.
I propped myself up on my elbow and searched his face for answers. “Then why?” My voice was a bare whisper.
Growl’s amber eyes traced my face. “Falcone’s gone too far. You didn’t deserve what he did to you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked carefully, not sure where he was getting at.
“You were innocent. He punished you for something your father did. That’s not right.”
“And he punished you when you were a little boy for something your mother might have done, punished you for doing absolutely nothing. That should have been enough to make you want to kill him.”
“I always wanted to kill him.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“When I was a small boy, I would have killed him but back then I didn’t have the skills. And later when I had them, I felt obligated to him, for giving me the skills, for showing me what I could do. Without him, I wouldn’t be what I am today.”