Page 16 of Kill the Queens
After the tavern they passed a series of shops, all of them closed with their doors locked. Farah didn’t turn until shereached an alley where the light from the lamps on the street didn’t reach. The queen could admit she was a creature of habit as this was the alley she always stopped at on nights like this.
“What is this?” the man hummed as they turned and he took in the darkness. “You little minx.” His chuckle was softer now, his hands finding her hips as he pressed her into the brick wall.
Farah was trapped between the cold bite of stone and the excessive heat of the man before her. She took a deep breath as he lowered his face to hers. The funniest thing was always when she was able to shock them in some way.Men always assumed she’d drawn them away from the tavern for a good tickle of the tonsils. That was never the case, though on occasion the queen would indulge herself for a minute or two. Sometimes longer if she found the man to be particularly of her liking.
He pressed his lips to hers more gently than Farah had expected, easing them into a kiss. She opened her mouth further to him as he pressed his firm chest into her. His lips were full and soft. Though the rest of him smelled of beer and his clothing was dirty, he still tasted almost sweet, like he’d been sucking on candy all night.
Her slender hands crawled up his chest to his face, where she teased at the beard along his jaw before sinking her fingers into his hair. She could feel the way he smiled against her lips before he deepened the kiss.Had his wife taught him to kiss so well?It didn’t much matter.
Farah allowed him to kiss her until she was certain that he’d forgotten she was a stranger. He even moaned a name against her throat as his mouth traveled from her jaw to the curve of her neck and his hands rested on her ribcage. Was it his wife’s name? A mistress?It didn’t matter. She reminded herself again.
The queen drew circles against his scalp with herfingertips and tugged at the hair forcing his face back up to hers before he could bury himself in the slightest bit of cleavage that poked out of her dress. He watched her with those glowing, half hooded blue eyes, tongue darting out over his lips. He wanted to kiss her again. Farahalmostwanted to kiss him again. The want wasn’t bad enough nor as urgent as what waited underneath.
The space between them started to disappear as Farah felt her way from his hairline, to his temples. Anticipation was dancing through her veins, pulsing with the steady beating of her heart. Barely able to contain her growing grin, she hooked her thumbs into his eye sockets.
He stiffened and that’s when Farah realized she’d never even asked for his name.Oops.Her thumbs pressed more fiercely against him as she channeled all her anger and frustration into the movement. Until those beautiful blue eyes dented and mushed beneath her grip. It was several long seconds before she registered that he was screaming. Not just screaming, but clawing at her hands, his short nails gouging at the skin.
Farah pulled away, her fingers leaving his face with a suction sound and then aslurp. Blood dripped from his eyes as he held his face, taking a couple of steps away.
Her chest swelled with adrenaline, her heart filling with pride that someone like her could do damage like this. This was it. This was her high. Her cheeks ached from her now uncontrollable smile. A euphoric peace settled over her once racing thoughts.
“What the fuck!?” he screamed. “I can’t see!”
The feeling inside of her, the one that had begun to eat her alive in the very best of ways, bubbled up her throat and escaped her in a series of giggles. Though he couldn’t see he still managed to turn toward the exit of the alley. It was even amusing to the young queen that he tried. Farah yanked him back by his collar, her free hand clenching.
Air hissed out of his lips as he doubled over, a hand still holding his face, the other holding his side. Her first hit slammed into his ribs. She hardly felt it herself, what used to be sore knuckles was now the release of tension that coiled in the pit of her stomach.
The next hit was to his groin, her knee swinging under him as she pulled him back upright, toppling another shout from his lips. Farah raised her fist to strike again, aiming this time for his head—for that stupid hand that still cupped an eye. She wanted to hear the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh, even better the crunching of bones. The man below cowered as though he could sense the next hit coming. He was shrinking down into himself, trying to crawl inch by inch toward the street while blood fell down his cheeks like tears.
Fingers wrapped around Farah’s wrist, a too tight hold preventing her next hit from landing. She gasped as she realized the strength it had taken to keep her from moving. Her eyes narrowed to slits on the hand that held her.
“That’s enough,” a raspy masculine voice hissed.
She lifted her gaze to meet the face of the man who dared to stop her. He was mostly shadowed but she could still make out the locks of hair that were clasped with rings of gold on the ends. His eyes were gray, almost silver as the moon found its way around a cloud and the light bounced off his high cheekbones. He was her height but his frame was possibly triple hers. Muscles stacked on muscles.The kind of strength she was constantly seeking for herself.
Farah gave him a feral smile. He stared intently at her face, some shade of shock written in that expression as he took in her features and pieced together the fact that she was a woman. Her other hand was already swinging, her knuckles digging into his gut.
He inhaled and retracted only slightly, but his grip on herwrist loosed allowing her to pull herself free. This stranger was obviously much stronger than the last. That only made her crave beating him that much more. To be stronger than someone so much larger than her…that appealed to the queen.
Farah loosed a breath, twisting with her whole body as her arm flung out aiming for his jaw. The bigger the man the harder they fell. Oh, she wanted to see him fall.
His forearm rose, blocking her hit, his brows pulling together in confusion. The queen was aware that somewhere behind her the other man was whimpering and still trying to get himself away. She took a step back, slamming her boot down on his ankle.
The opponent opposite her frowned as he advanced while the other man let out a yelp. A shoulder met Farah’s stomach as she was scooped up off the ground. She pounded her fists into his broad back and flailed her legs, hoping to get at least one knee to collide with his chin.
Just as quickly as she had been picked up, her boots hit the ground. Her entire body staggered backward as she was thrust into the street. Small pebbles were cast away from her with the shuffle of her feet. At some point, her hood must have fallen because light from the lamps was cascading over her face. She grabbed at the material looking from the alley where the large man was blocking its entrance and breathing heavily and then back toward the castle in the distance. She could still see the top of its towers and if she sprinted it wouldn’t take her too long to get back.
“I’m not fond of hitting women but I will. Get out of here before I’m forced to do something I regret!”
Farah wanted to laugh at that but the man took another step forward. She was strong, she knew that. She’d built muscle this last year, giving herself a more athletic build, better to intimidate with she thought. She’d killed for her strength. Still,this man might just be stronger.
Jealousy rose its ugly head inside of her, deflating the high she’d just achieved. She wanted to be the strongest! She wanted what he had. Maybe another night, she’d be back out trying to find him. She tried to memorize his striking features. There was the slightest bend to his wide nose. His square jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth together tightly and huffed another breath. It was those eyes though, those gray eyes that sparkled in the moonlight she found most attractive. Farah wanted to swim in those eyes. Maybe one day she’d gouge them out and display them in a jar on her mantle.
“GO!” he belted.
Farah jumped when he yelled this time, trying to escape the quickly escalating thoughts that were roaring in her head. She had plans for this man, if she could find him again.
Her boots pounded into the pavement, the cloak flying up off her back as she turned into the night and ran. She peeked over her shoulder only once to see if the man had followed. Her spirit deflated when she realized he had not. Deep in her spirit though she knew that she would see him again.