Deadly Saints [18+]

014: Smiled foolishly

|Isadora Xara|

Mr. Tchenkov became thirsty, for blood. After further information was relayed to him, the mole is revealed to be someone who deals with his distribution on a personal level. His porcelain skin turned crimson, shaking with anger, attempting to control the beast. His features turned menacing but composed. I had to contain the euphoric sensations sparkling through my stream, the sight of his nature to devour is ultimately alluring.

"Okay, so you know the plan, Isadora?" Mr. Tchenkov questioned again.

Rolling my eyes at him for the fourth time since he asked me "Yes, how dumb do you think I am?" I barked.

Seems the alpha was not in a playful mood to entertain my banter, he pulled the gun from behind his back, aiming it in the direction of my temple. The jolts of pleasure flushed through my body as his teal orbs mirrored destruction. "Listen here, you snarky bitch, this isn't the time for you to play games. If this doesn't go as planned, I will kill your pretty little friend and make you watch. When I am done with you, you will beg for me to end your miserable life." His threatening voice announced in a sickly-sweet manner that brought arousal to his dick in anticipation of taking my life.

Ignoring his words, I walked towards him, the barrel resting on my forehead. The cold exterior emulsifying with the increase in my body temperature. "I like this of side of you love, its so sexy. This authoritative, powerful Mr. Tchenkov pointing a gun at me, now this is a real turn on sweetheart." A devilish grin moulding upon my lips as I taunted him.

The wicked glare of desire ravishing his sapphires, nostrils flaring at my eagerness to demolish him. "Do not disappoint me." He sternly stated.

His scent of strong spices intoxicating my senses as I leaned into the nape of his neck, placing a feathery kiss on the soft heated skin. "I will try not to, love." I breathily whispered.

Mr. Tchenkov didn't seem affected by my touch, the devil that became his true nature peeked through the surface, making me analyze the monster.

His large hand harshly gripped my jaw, squeezing my cheeks together painfully before his lips were just an inch away, the pillowed plump corals reminding me of the whiskey that layered on his sweet lips.

"You better make up for your mistake or you are dead, malyshka," his sinful voice reminded, causing a shiver of pleasure to course through my spine and dive into the pit of arousal in my core.

A villainous grin broke out on my delicate lips, licking the seams. "Baby, keeping calling me names in that accent and I won't just make it up to you through this."

His whiskey vexatious lips smirked at my sassy forwardness, those magnetic orbs eating the contents of my soul. His index finger lightly traced my left cheek, igniting the flames from a simple touch, a craving that guzzled the fibers of my body in his presence.

"Mne nravistka, kak ty kosvenno soblyudayesh' moi oravila, polagaya, chto u tebya yest' shans protiv menya kakim by sil'nym ni byl, ya slomayu tvoyu sushchnost' sdelav tebya svoim oruzhiyem." His deep voice stated, almost reminding me of something that he discovered.

(I like how you indirectly follow my rules, believing you have a chance against me. No matter how strong you are, I will break your essence making you my weapon)

"Remind me to learn Russian!" I huffed, retracting from his grip.

"Oh, and do I really have to wear this pencil skirt, why would any guy pay attention to me in that." Motioning to the unappealing outfit that I am set to wear.