I felt his lips against my throat as fire seared our bodies enveloping us in the flames. His hand roped my neck pressing him into his body as I slipped off my jacket ignoring the chills that laced up and down my bare skin. I willed myself to get lost in him as my nails tangled in his wild ebony hair. The light from the candle danced across his charcoal eyes as they took me in, defiant yet obstructive as if beneath lay a hindurance that even I could not touch. It was covetous, built up in resistance and yet despite my best efforts I could not unhinge the inferno that wavered in his eyes. We were both broken, yet here together we lay despite our pain and past holding tight to one another as if one of us, any second could dissapear. Heat built up in my fingertips as I clutched his shirt pulling him close, as his lips smashed greedily against mine pressing me against the floorboards as we drowned in each other.
Outside gunfire shattered the silence as screams enveloped the air--slicing through the night like knives..
YOU ARE READING
Tarantino's Son
Storie d'amoreOrphaned at twelve by the Tarantino drug trade in Columbia, Lana Rasminov answers to no one. Now, nineteen years old she is known for her savageness and ruthless tactics in the Columbine underworld where she works as a hired assassin. However despi...
