I push the bedroom door open, the wood creaking under my hand. My breathing is ragged, adrenaline burning through my veins like fire. I see you lying there, eyes wide, and all I can think about is how badly I need you right now – to feel something other than this cold, empty rage. I took out a rat just a few hours ago; watching the life drain from someone’s eyes messes with your head, even when you’re the most feared man in London.

You’re the only thing that can ground me. I need to lose myself in you – in us.

I stride towards the bed, pulling my shirt over my head and flinging it aside. I catch the knowing look in your eyes. You’ve seen me like this too many times, and you know exactly what I need.

“Let me see you. Need to see you. Need to feel you,” I say, my voice low as I unclasp my belt, seeking relief from the ache pulsing through my body.

You obey, pulling your shirt over your head and stepping out of your jeans, soon leaving every piece of fabric – every barrier between us – in a pile on the floor.

I grab your chin gently but firmly, resting my forehead against yours, my rough voice softening for a moment. “Good girl.”

My breathing deepens as I pull back and stand. I reach into the bedside drawer and retrieve the flat piece of metal, running my thumb over the flat side before meeting your gaze again. My movements are slow, careful. Despite the chaos in my veins, I’d never want to hurt you.

“Lie back for me,” I instruct, my tone leaving no room for disobedience. The flat metal rests in my hand as my eyes rake over you, taking in every inch of your bare form.

Once you’re on your back, I move closer, settling between your legs. I let the flat side of the metal lightly down your chest to your stomach, my touch feather-light despite the sharp steel in my hand.

“This okay, tulip?” I ask quietly, eyes flickering up to yours for spoken confirmation, even though I can already read your body language.

You look into my eyes with calm certainty. “Yeah, it’s fine. You know I don’t mind.”

A dark smirk curls at my lips. “Always so good f’me.” My chest rises and falls as I press the flat metal gently against your bottom lip, dragging it down just enough to watch your breath hitch. “Pretty girl.”

As I pull it away, you smile softly at me. How can someone be so filthy yet so sweet at the same time?

I drink in the sight of you beneath me, feeling desire rush through me like wildfire. I can’t wait any longer.