Chapter 9- The Devil

Thirteen really likes to test me. But God knows I love it; knows I can't get enough of her sass; can't get enough of the madness that burns in those sexy grey eyes of hers.

I watch her leave the training hall- annoyance written in bold print on her features- just after she flashed her manicured middle finger at the two way mirror- at me- with the aim of disrespecting. And I should feel insulted, yet for a while, I just focus on the way the sweat beads on her forehead; on how her all-black tracksuit hugs her like a second skin; how that ash-blonde hair held up in a classic ponytail has to be the sexiest thing I have seen all week. And those lips... Fuck. They're the kind I want on me. It doesn't help that she mouthed 'fuck you' with them as she flashed me the finger. She has no idea that the feeling is mutual, and I'm thinking of all the ways I'm going to do her. 

But we first need to correct an impression. The fact that I find her intriguing doesn't mean I won't punish her when she deliberately tries to get on my nerves. She can't even begin to imagine how much I would enjoy it; she shouldn't give me too many opportunities to, because I can be very punitive. My whole life is built on discipline, and though I like this brat, she will learn some manners. 

So, ten minutes later, I am seated in my study as she walks in, closing my door behind her. Her gaze drifts across the place in a once-over, taking note of everything. The ornate oak desk, the linoleum floors, the sofa area, the heavy, embellished drapes, the scowl on my face. It gratifies her. Her lips seem to curve the slightest as she sits before me, grey eyes deeply rebellious. 

"I missed you at training," she says, eyes on me, a taunt dancing in them. "I got out of bed just for you, despite how much I needed to rest. But you didn't show up."

"I am not your trainer. I hardly ever do." I know exactly where she is going with this, but I'll first be damned before I run away from it. She is trying to prove that I was at the hall, in some way; that I was watching from the glass. "Flash your finger one more time at me and I will break it."

"You won't watch me in training."

Fucking hell. "Make me."

Silent fury dances in her eyes, because she knows that she can't. "What, it's not enough that I have to train even with an assortment of injuries that need time to heal? You get to watch my suffering too?"

"Your suffering isn't the only thing I'm watching, even though I greatly enjoy it." I bask in the combination of heat and annoyance that drifts across her features before continuing. "And I know you enjoy the attention."

She scoffs. "All I want from you is your head in a sack. No one gets to kill you but me."

"Maybe, but no one gets to fuck you but me." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, she inhales a breath, swallowing, even though her eyes are still burning like infernos. "Anyone else that tries to will face a horrible end, and I'm not even joking."

She finally finds her voice, her outrage as obvious as daylight. "I am not your whore."

"No, you're my latest headache," I answer. "I won't stay patient for long, Thirteen. If you continue to test me, one of these days, you will come in here and you won't leave the same. Make sure it's what you want- this rebellion; this desperate attempt at relevance."

"Desperate?" She looks murderous. "The only thing I'm desperate about is leaving here; getting out of your hair as soon as possible. And I can't get those hundred fucking targets fast enough, because every part of me wants to escape you."

When she's done with her tirade, I get off my seat and head in her direction. She looks visibly anxious when I circle her chair, watching her. For someone with the kind of guts she thinks she has, she seems afraid of the obvious desire that peeks from her irises. It gnaws on her now as my eyes rove her body, noting that her spine is straighter with awareness, and her breathing is laboured with the same heat that eats at me slowly, but surely. This close, I see the flush that rises up her neck, that sends goosebumps covering her skin. It is fucking precious the way she shivers when I roll her ponytail in my hand and pull her head back so that she is leaning fully against the chair. 

"I didn't know I was into ponytails," I murmur as I cross to her side, caressing the side of her face with one finger. In response, she purses her lips and shuts her eyes, unwilling to show me how much she is affected by it.

Her hands are hanging in tight fists beside her as I lean lower. When she finally opens her eyes, she is staring right at me. "I know what you're trying to do," she says. 

My lips curve only slightly. "Do you now?"

"Your point will remain unproven," she snaps. "I feel nothing for you."

I grab her by the neck, enjoying the feeling of her increasing pulse, the thrum of her thumping heart, and the way her pupils dilate. She is such a liar. "If you moan, Thirteen, I get to keep you."

Without warning, I slip my hand inside her spandex pants and cup her V, just before my fingers snake inside her panties. Fuck. She's wearing lace…. and she's soaked. Suddenly, I can't think anymore. I can only feel her, as she pulses against my hand, swollen, full, slick with arousal. My thumb glides along her clit and she visibly jerks, and her sharp gaze travels to me, her jaw set, asking me to do my fucking worst. She really has no idea what I can make her body do. 

I continue to run my thumb along her clit in little circles and her eyes grow wide, her breathing picking up, but she doesn't say anything, picking at the shreds of her self control with a vehemence that is laughable. And when I slip a finger inside her, she bites down heavily on her bottom lip, jerking frantically against her chair. 

Her harsh breathing echoes in the room as I squeeze in another finger inside her pussy. She feels so fucking tight, creaming beautifully as both fingers are nestled inside her. I move slightly- only the fraction of an inch- and she throws her head back, mouth open as a long sigh escapes it.

"Last chance," I say. "Pull them out."

Her eyes are glazed over as she stares at me, aroused and angry as she reaches down for her pelvis. But she doesn't remove my hand. She thrusts it in deeper, biting into her free palm as she holds it against her mouth to keep herself from making a sound. 

Fuck, she plays dirty. And now I am so hard I am near bursting. 

I grab the base of her neck with my free hand to hold her head free of her palm as the hand inside her pussy plunges in and out of her, making her jerk in rhythm, making her ponytail to swing over the backrest, rattling the chair. Her mouth is open and her eyes are on the ceiling as moan after moan escapes her lips without restriction, tugging at my senses like an impatient master. But I don't give her release. 

I pull my fingers out of her and slip them in my mouth, tasting her arousal on them as my eyes drops on her. "You're definitely a keeper."

As the words leave my mouth, she glares at me, anger, arousal, and frustration combining into a scowl heavy with indignation, but I ignore it, basking in her deliciously disheveled appearance. But she doesn't allow me to for long. She leaps to her feet and stalks to my door. "Nobody is keeping me. Especially not you."

You can run… but only for a while.