Taking Meghan (Disciples 5) - Page 92

Wrapping him up, I slam into the desk that’s been pushed over into a corner of the office.

He screams at me in Russian as he wrenches an arm around my neck, trying to get a hold of me.

Nothing he does though is going to work. My mind has had too many fucking ups and downs. Too many gains and losses over the last couple of weeks.

The final straw that breaks the chains of my inner fucking beast is Meghan’s blood. Blood that’s my fault. Blood that I should have been able to prevent from being spilt.

He keeps going for the choke, but he can’t get the grip he so desperately needs around my neck. Growling out, I get both arms under him before I rip him off my neck. Tossing him across the office, I watch as he slams into the wall.

His body leaves a good fucking sized dent. He’s only crumpled down for a moment before he starts to stand up.

I’ve shaken his ass and rattled that big fucking head of his.

Stalking over to him, I grab him by the collar of his shirt. He’s a prissy-dressed fuck in his suit and tie. But that about figures, all fucking dressed up like a bitch. Probably never truly had a hard day’s work in his life.

Slamming my fist into his face makes me feel so much better as I wrangle him to stand up in front of me.

“Didn’t your cunt of a mother ever tell you not to hit a lady?” I ask him, slamming him into the wall.

“Fuck you!” he screams at me as he punches me in the stomach.

He’s got a good jab, but it’s not hard enough to make me release him.

Slamming my forehead into his nose is so fucking cathartic I do it two more times. Each time, I hear a crunch of bone breaking.

Blood is all over my face when I finally pull back from him. It’s all his, though.

Eyes glazed, he continues to shout a litany of broken English and Russian.

I have no clue what the fuck he’s saying right now, and I really don’t care.

Moving my hand down to his waistband, I lock onto it with a firm grip, then I latch onto his hair with my other hand.

I want to see how far I can toss this motherfucker.

Twirling around once, I lift his body into the air and send him flying across the office to slam into the opposite wall.

“Fuck me! He tossed him at least ten feet!” Johnathan says with a laugh.

Stomping over to Alexei, I can feel my hands squeezing. They ache with a need to hurt him right now, to cause more damage.

Dragging Alexei up by his hair, I lean back and finally let the full force of my pent-up rage out.

The first couple of hits are to the side of his jaw. It might be more than a couple, though, because soon enough I feel something shatter in his jaw.

Teeth spit out of his mouth as he tries to desperately get my hands to release the grip I have on his head.

“Useless motherfucker,” I snarl into his face as I rain blows into his ribs.

Him being on the floor isn’t good enough for me right now so I stand him up like a fucking punching bag.

How he stands there wobbly as a motherfucker, I don’t know, but I want to see if I can keep him from falling with just my fists.

Each hit lifts him up enough to keep him from dropping between blows of my fists. I know there’s ribs cracking and breaking beneath my fists.

Five or fifty blows go by and I can’t recall which number I’m closer to. All I know is that he stopped screaming somewhere in the middle of my punches.

Pulling back from him, I watch as his body crumples to the floor.

“Fucking anticlimactic motherfucking pussy!” I bellow at his unconscious lump of a fucking shit body. “You’re supposed to be some big bad! Some motherfucker who can put some damage on me! Fucking waste of breath!”

Rearing back, I kick his kidneys with my fucking boots. Kick ‘em until I know I’ve caused serious internal bleeding.

“You made me this fucking mad and you can’t even fucking put up a real fight!” I scream at him.

Kneeling beside him, I raise my arm to start working on the side of his head when something pierces my brain like a bullet.

“Gabriel,” a soft, feminine voice calls to me.

I drop a fist to the side of his head with the intention of seeing if I can cave in his motherfucking skull.

“Gabriel, stop it! I’m fucking naked under this sheet! Help me. Please,” she calls to me again, and that the red haze finally fades away as the colors of the real world seep back into my vision.

“Fucking bitch,” I spit out on the body that’s barely breathing.

Tags: Izzy Sweet Disciples Billionaire Romance
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