spellbound (18+)

Fifth Agent

Adrik was typically quiet. Instead of words he chose to speak in simple expressions.

A raise of the brow in disapproval. A smirk of challenge. A glare.

He was a man of few words, but those few words held a heavy impact.

He spoke when he felt he needed to. And when people wandered into his town when they weren't supposed to be there.

He'd held her hips as he slammed inside of her. He'd slayed his hands on her soft belly feeling his cock pummel her insides.

He'd ravaged her, picked her clean, took everything out of her.

Now he was silent, his eyes focused on hers, his face still.

Michelle glanced at him, sipping her drink. "You're awfully quiet today."

He raised a brow, in question, his dark eyes narrowed.

She turned around. "You're quiet."

He raised cocked his head silently. "I usually am."

She sipped her drink quietly, as he watched her intently.

"Why did you say you were here again...Princess?"

She swallowed, tucking a hair behind her ear, putting a small smile on her face. "Are suspecting me of something, Adrik?"

His eyes narrowed, as he sat back, licking his lips. He nodded at Danya, who handed him a lit cigarette and a paper.

He put the cigarette in his mouth, sliding the paper across the bar silently, watching as her eyes go over the paper.

"What exactly is this," she slid the paper back across the bar.

He picked it up, staring it at it emphatically, before setting it back down.

He blew out a plume of smoke. "What are you doing here, Michelle?" He said slowly and carefully.

She swallowed, shifting. "I'm...here for a job—"

"What...are you really doing here? You don't belong here," he pushed the paper back to her. "You...or your kind."

Michelle let out a snort. "My kind?"

"Feds. Snitches. Narcs. Your kind. This isn't the place for you, Princess."

She swallowed roughly, glancing at the paper with her history on it, before clutching her bag.

"What are you saying?"

He took his cigarette between his fingers, glaring at the bottles in front of him.

He stared at it, before taking a long drag of his cigarette, the silence weaseling its way under her skin.

"Say something," she whispered.

He glanced at her, blinking, his long lashes resting on his face for a moment.

"What are they looking for," he asked gruffly.

Michelle clenched her jaw. "I don't know what you mean?"

He shot her a look, a disdainful glare, his lip lifting in irritations but he didn't repeat himself.

"You don't know English? Should I ask in Russian?"

She swallowed. "I don't speak Russian."

He licked his lips. "You're...playing with my patience, Princess."

"Why do you keep calling me that."

His hand motioned to her bracelet, he took a drag of his cigarette, looking ahead once more.

"You're dripping in money. Even the way you talk is so...proper. Someone left you ill prepared."

He narrows his eyes, leaning back in the chair.

She touched her bracelet, putting her head down.

"Is this a thrill to you?" He asked. "You don't need the money. What? Is this is an adventure? Do you feel safe here...Princess?"

The way he spat out the word Princess made her breath catch. Was this the same man? He was...kind wasn't he?

Didn't matter now. Now she was trapped.

She stood. "I can sense when I'm not wanted—"

He glared at her, directing his eyes to her seat. She took it, adjusting her skirt.

"So you suspect me of something. What now?"

He shrugged, putting out his cigarette, glancing at his watch.

"How old are you really?" He demanded.

She shifted, looking away from his intense glare.

"20," she whispered.

He sighed, rolled his eyes in irritation. He grabbed her drink from in front of her, clenching his jaw, as threw it back.

"Fuck," he murmured.

"I turn 21 in two days though so—" she added

He glared at her, making her purse her lips. He stood.

"You shouldn't lie about your age, Princess. I don't fuck children. Serg, don't serve her anything else."

"I'm not a child," she called after him.

He looked back at her. Then he looked away, leaving the bar.

She looked up at Serg who shook his head at her.

"So what now?" She asked him.

Serg shrugged. "Now someone has heard you be called a narc. Now you go home. By now I mean right now."