Deadly Saints [18+]

013: A little heat

|Isadora Xara|

The silence resonated through the private jet as my figure remained unmoving, my gaze drifted to his relaxed appearance, those magnetic oceans drifting in their personal abyss. The entire ordeal is mind-fucking, the thrill of a gun being pointed from his grasp to the undeniable sex appeal that oozed out of his skin.

Staring at Alysanne opposite me, deep in slumber. The thin straps of her flimsy discolored tank top, her only source of warmth. Noticeably, her body contradicted the amount of cover she had. Fingers twitching at the grasp or maybe from those horrid nightmares that haunted her each night. Shrugging off my leather jacket, I blanketed her upper body, hopefully providing a tad bit of warmth.

Alysanne's features strained, her brows furrowing while scrunching her nose. The concern became short lived when she tugged the jacket closer to her neck, reveling in the change of temperature. Brushing the strands of her ivory away from her face, analyzing the faint but prominent stain of bruises upon her skin.

"Oh, Alysanne." I whispered.

My thoughts gravitating towards the cause of each tainted section, guilt flushing through me. Alysanne wished to never return to this life again, she blocked out her past and solely focused on the future. Selfishly, I took that opportunity away. Brought back in will damage her, the humanity will switch, and she will become void. That would make her unstoppable and unattainable, would she ever come out of it again or would this be the end of her humanity?

I let out air residing in my lungs, rubbing my temples from the unanswered questions. The midnight sky dressed with dazzling stars that resembled hope for the innocent. Unfortunately, stars aggravated me, taking away the true depths of what is hidden behind them. Stars concealed the truth and I preferred the dawn to reflect the true evil that it is.

The stiff ache in my legs becoming more noticeable, its been 8 hours since we took off and my muscles screamed to move. Standing up from my seat, stretching my arms above my head as I relieved the tension within the joints.. scanning the other passengers. Hulk occupied the middle of the jet while the dark haired bodyguard had his arms crossed as he slept uncomfortably upright.

Instead, they slept with one eye open because at any time death could be casted upon them. To the left of the jet, seats scattered, unoccupied. Except, one person who comfortable typed upon his laptop his lips touched the crystal glass filled with whiskey.

He ran his fingers through his dirty blonde waves, bewitching cerulean orbs heavy with tension. The ivory formal shirt had his signature sleeves rolled to his elbows, his muscles straining against the fabric. Each ridge of his gigantic muscles plaguing my sexual fantasies of becoming engulfed in them.

Broad shoulders that I itched to run my hands over, juice strawberry plump lips that I longed to draw blood from. The deep seethed hate coursed through my veins at the sight of him but his stunning features always managed to make my pussy wet.

"Sweetheart, are you going to just stand there and keep eyefucking me? His deep voice questioned.

"Hmm, maybe for a few more minutes," I mischievously grinned.

"Come sit," he sternly stated, motioning to the seat opposite him.

Rolling my eyes at his constant dominate nature, "Why, Mr. Tchenkov?" I gritted, reiterating the revelation he sprung upon me.

It is displayed that I became reluctant to obey his command and this is enough for him to close his laptop and glare at the seat opposite him. I huffed in annoyance, the conversation had started and he wasn't in any given mood to provide me with answers.