“Why do you always try to see me?” he murmured. “Why won’t you look away?”
“I’m not afraid of you. I’ll never be afraid of you.” He leaned back slightly to look at her properly, his fingers sliding again beneath her panties. Souraya could feel how slick and ready she was, how her hips were writhing against him. “Tell me,” she insisted, gasping.
His jaw tightened and he placed his mouth next to her ear, thrusting two fingers into her as he spoke. “I killed someone today, darling.”
Souraya cried out as he slammed his fingers in and out, exactly as rough as she liked it. Pleasure stretched taut over her body even as her mind fought to understand what he’d said. Ahmed was still talking.
“He was trying to blackmail me. I fucked him in my living room and I choked him till he stopped breathing. Is that what you wanted to hear, Sou? Are you happy now?” Ahmed was holding her up as he finger fucked her; Souraya’s legs had gone weak as his wrist worked. She moaned as the images Ahmed laid out for her came to life in her head.
“You choked him…while fucking him?” Her voice was ragged, her mouth scraping against his neck.
Ahmed swore violently and pulled her tighter to him. “How are you so goddamn wet, darling? Didn’t you hear what I just said?”
She’d heard him perfectly well. Souraya dropped a hand to the front of his trousers and pulled down his zipper. He was, as she expected, hard as iron in her hand. Ahmed hissed out a desperate breath.
“Sou, for fuck’s sake. Make me stop. Tell me to stop.”
She let out a small laugh. “Don’t put that on me. Stop if you want.”
He stared at her like she’d lost her mind. “I killed a man, Sou.”
“It wasn’t the first time.”
Ahmed shook his head, his face solemn. “It’s the first time I’ve done it with my bare hands.”
“Hmm.” She stroked his erection, and he made a tangled sound. “Does that make a difference? Dead is dead.”
“Sou.”
“Or is it because you were fucking him while you did it?” His erection jumped in her hand and Souraya gave him a sharp grin. Ahmed slid his fingers out of her and lifted them to her mouth, watching with hooded eyes as she licked them clean.
“How can you ask me that?” He leaned his forehead against hers.
Souraya reached into his pocket with her free hand, finding the condom he always kept there. Ahmed’s mouth softened as she tore off the wrapper, and he dragged in rough breaths when she rolled the latex over him.
“What are you doing?”
She ignored his questions. “How did it feel?” He was pushing her dress up past her hips, skimming past her sheathed blade like it was nothing, shoving her legs open with his knee. Something close to anger pulled at his face. Souraya kept pushing because it felt good. “You liked it, didn’t you, baby? It made you feel like a god? To hurt him like that?”
Ahmed grabbed her hair and entered her in one hard stroke, cutting her question short as she screamed. He slid out and pushed in again and Souraya let her head fall back, her body supported by his greedy hands, her mouth cracked open in a laugh.
“Just like that,” she gasped out. “Fuck me like you fucked him, baby.”
“Fuck you,” he bit out. “Fuck you, Sou.”
She laughed again and felt him lose control, something he’d never done with her before. He thrust into her so roughly that her head slammed against the wall, over and over again, his fingers bruising her skin, his teeth scoring her shoulder. A warped victory filled her chest. Ahmed wasn’t fucking the broken girl he’d found in a penthouse. He was fucking the woman who’d looked at him, who hadn’t looked away, and finally, it felt real. When he circled her throat with his long fingers, Souraya shuddered and came, her voice winging through the room. Ahmed called on the name of God as his orgasm hit, and they both collapsed to the floor.
There was nothing but the sound of both of them panting for a few moments, then Ahmed slid out of her and gathered her in his arms, dropping kisses on her head. Souraya could feel him trembling.
“Who are you?” he murmured. “Who the fuck are you?”
She let herself be held, inhaling the scent of his sweat, and she didn’t answer. Neither of them brought up what he’d confessed to.
Finally, Souraya lifted her face to look at him. “What about your friend?”
“I’m not sure yet. My calls aren’t going through.” He reached down to his pocket and pulled out his phone to check it. Souraya trailed a finger across his chest, her mind scattered in a few directions, only returning to him when he swore softly.
“What is it?”
“Messages from Kalu and Okinosho.” Tight lines pulled at his lips. “Kalu’s somewhere in the lowland, apparently.”
“And Okinosho?”
“Hasn’t been able to find Kalu so he wants me to deliver him myself. Tonight.”
Souraya grimaced. “Will you?”
Ahmed sighed. “I have to. Okinosho’s now claiming Kalu won’t be harmed. I have to keep him safe.”
“Can you trust the pastor?”
“Not sure there’s a choice here.” He smiled sadly at her. “Maybe your friend came through.”
Souraya sat up on an elbow. “That would explain it. That’s good, right?”
Ahmed nodded, his eyes eating in her face. “Come with me,” he said. “To pick up Kalu.”
“I don’t know, Ahmed.” It was a bad idea. Souraya had no business flirting with this world, no business with a man as dangerous as Ahmed Soyoye, not if she wanted to keep the life she’d built for herself. But she’d already fucked him against the wall and said unthinkable things in his ear and none of it had felt unfamiliar. God help her, but maybe she was more of this city than she wanted to admit. She should run. She should get on a plane and get out while she still could, before this man wrapped more of his shadowed tendrils around her with such terrible tenderness.
