Author's Note
Welcome back to Kiss, Marry, Kill!
Did you know this story was only supposed to be three chapters long? Part I for Kiss, II for Marry, and III for Kill. But chapter one was five thousand words of filth. Chapter two ended up being nearly nine thousand words of plot and that just wouldn't do so I had to split them up. That's why this chapter is ready so fast! I already had most of it written! Hoorayyy.
I'm actually pretty excited about this chapter. I wasn't at first, I rewrote so many scenes, but after sharing it with a few friends (shoutout to my Jashi pals on Discord!), I'm feeling pretty good!
I hope you all enjoy!
Kiss, Marry, Kill
Chapter 3:
Kill (Part One)
He had received a message on his device from Scaramouche. For protection. He'd heard that the assassin from the night before would be at the Imperial Palace Hotel for a gala tonight at seven o'clock in the evening.
He knew he had to abandon his usual samurai garb for this mission. He would have to blend in with the crowd. Fortunately, the event was themed. A masquerade.
He adjusted his tie as he scanned the room. He knew who he was looking for. And just like the night he'd met her, she stood out like a beacon. He spotted her. A stunning high-low cut dress that exposed the front of her legs and billowed past her feet in the back. A red mask that complimented the color of her lips.
Ashi.
He had only gotten a brief glimpse of her face during their fight last night before she'd held up her hands to cover her crumbling mask. He didn't recognize her straight away. But, when he had returned to his office on campus, he had done some research. It had taken most of the night, hours of reading and dead-ends and new leads, but he finally found something that shook him to his core.
The truth.
His wife, the only woman he had ever felt deep and palpable love for, was a hired gun. The last known woman standing of the once notorious Seven Daughters of Aku.
The shock he had felt last night had now been replaced with astounding bitterness. Rage coursed through his veins like the waters of a mighty river. He felt betrayed that a woman he loved so dearly worked for such a monster.
His resolve steeled. He took a step toward her as their eyes locked from across the ballroom.
He knew he could not let her leave this room freely.
Ashi's eyes narrowed as her husband approached her. Dressed in an all black suit and black mask that shielded his dark eyes. She would find him absolutely delicious if the hatred in her gut could be calmed.
Her voice analyzation from the previous night had left her in doubt. But the small amount of blood she'd collected from her blade proved, without a doubt, that it was him. Jack, her husband, and the Samurai were one in the same. And, judging by the look in his eyes as he narrowed the space between them told her he knew her secret, too.
They stood together, face to face.
"Jack."
"Ashi."
"What are you doing here?" she says as more of a statement than a question. "This doesn't look like the library."
"I was invited here by a colleague. I'd love to hear your excuse."
"I've helped develop buildings in this city. My excuse is far stronger than yours."
The two stared at each other for a long time. She could feel anger bubble up inside of her. She couldn't believe that the man she had so desperately wanted—needed—to kill wore the same face of the man she loved.
"Would you like to dance?" they both said at the same time.
"I'd love to," Ashi responded.
"My pleasure," said Jack.
Jack took her hand and the two moved to the edge of the dance floor. He placed a hand on her hip and held her other hand out to the side. She dug her nails into his shoulder, at the precise spot where she had cut him the night before. He grimaced.
"What's the matter, love? Hurt yourself?"
His expression steeled. He took a few forceful steps forward, running her back into a pillar. She coughed at the impact. She looked up at him and cursed the smug look on his face.
"I apologize. My steps have become rusty."
She growled. He twirled her away from the pillar and back into his arms.
"You didn't come home last night," she said. "Had a lot of research, you said. Make any interesting discoveries?"
"As a matter of fact." The broke apart slightly, linking their calves together quickly before meeting again. "There is something to be said for having many research facilities available at one's disposal."
"Mm," she purred. "Do tell."
"Did you know this city has a history of terrorism? I've always been fascinated by it. But one group stands out in particular." He leads her around the dance floor, his eyes locked on hers. "A group of seven, highly trained warriors known simply as the Daughters of Aku."
"Aku?" she feigned a gasp. "You mean that big, scary crime lord?"
"Big and scary, perhaps, if you are a coward."
"Hm." She kicked her leg to the side, straight into the air, an impressive display of her flexibility. His arm caught her beneath her knee, running his hand up the side of her thigh. "Careful, darling," she whispered. "There might be children watching." She spun out of his hold before he could reach too far.
"The strangest thing about these warriors," he continued, "is that there is virtually no record of them. No arrests warrants, no death certificates. It seemed that, slowly, they all just disappeared." He spun her around and locked her elbows behind her back with his arm.
He whispered in her ear. "All but one."
His other hand slid up her thigh until he encountered something. Hard. And bulky.
A gun.
He slipped his hand under her dress and removed it, tossing it into a potted plant. He turned her head to face him with a hard look.
"Do you always bring guns with you to work?"
She grinned, despite the animosity in her eyes. "Sometimes. Executives can be awfully nasty."
He released her elbows and brought his hands to her waist. She grabbed at them and pulled them up into the air, turning back around to face him. Their dance started again and she wrapped her leg around his hip, her hands propped on his shoulders.
"You know," she said huskily, "this joke's been done to death, but I have to ask."
She brought her thigh down over his, letting the heel of her shoe trace a path down his calf. "Is that a gun in your pocket or, oh," she paused her sentence, smirking when she felt her heel hit something solid. "Nevermind."
She released her leg from his and smoothed her palms down his chest. She lowered herself to the ground, touching his thighs as she neared her target.
Gun strapped to the ankle. Classic.
She plucked it from him and slid it across the floor until it skidded under a table. She grabbed him by his belt and pulled herself up with deliberate slowness until she once more met his gaze. She licked her lips teasingly, mockingly, as her hands lifted to once again settle on his shoulders. "Don't tell me that's all you've got," she breathed.
They twirled together a few times before he suddenly dipped her backwards, letting his fingertips trace her throat down to her stomach.
"Does this dance not satisfy you?"
She echoed the words she had once spoken to him. Years ago. On the night they met.
"Are you asking me if I'm seduced?"
He lifted her again, roughly. Their lips were barely a breath apart.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked.
"Blood sample. From the wound on your shoulder. You?"
"Hair sample. You must have been careless while dressing last night." He moved his lips to whisper in her ear. "I've always been fond of pulling your hair."
She growled and released herself from his grasp. "Goodbye, Jack."
He grabbed her arm as she began to walk away and pulled her close once more. He looked into her eyes with a serious expression. It unnerved her. She tried pulling back again but he held her firm.
"Was I really just a cover for you?"
The question was like a slap in the face. He watched her expression shift from shock to sadness. His arms loosened around her and she stepped back.
Jack did not know what to feel. An assassin for Aku. This could not be the woman he loved. He saw her eyes flick across the room. He followed her gaze.
The politician for whom this party was thrown shook hands with a high ranking officer in the local police district. The officer was well known for dirtying his hands with bribes from many gangs in the area. They stood at the centerpiece of the ballroom, decorated with red roses and a small pyramid of champagne glasses.
Jack turned his eyes back to Ashi and saw that she was holding a small, round gadget. A detonator. His eyes widened.
"Ashi! No!"
The centerpiece exploded, killing the politician and the officer who had stood their moments before, shaking hands.
He did not have time to pursue her fleeing form in the ensuing chaos.
The car sped along the freeway, her destination clear. She looked down at the display on her dashboard. An incoming phone call from Jack. She answered immediately.
"Samurai."
"The Last Daughter." His voice sounded hardened. Enraged. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"
"My job."
"You killed six men!"
She ground her teeth as she swerved around a car ahead of her. "None of those men were innocent."
"Where are you?"
She grinned. "Just heading home to pick up a few things."
"You know I have to pursue you."
"Come and get me."
"Ashi," his voice dropped, "I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't. And if you try, I will kill you."
Jack entered his home cautiously. He had his gun, two of them actually, one tucked into the back of his pants and one held up in his hands, steady in front of him. He had removed his jacket in the car, allowing himself to move more freely. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone to get himself quick access to the small series of knives he kept in two pouches sewn into the breast.
He wished he'd had time to go to the basement, where he kept a healthy amount of artillery. But there was no telling where Ashi was or where she kept her own weapons. This would have to do for now.
He closed the back door as quietly as he could and moved toward the front of the house. He reasoned that she would be expecting him there. But he could not predict this for sure. He grabbed a tray in the kitchen, reflective, and shined it down the dark hallway. He proceeded out of the kitchen and hid behind a wall in their living room. He tried the trick again.
He spotted her, sitting at the top of the steps, gun pointed straight at him.
He ducked as her first shots rang out. Three in a row. He braced himself against the wall, panting.
"Hi, honey," she said. "I'm home."
"Ashi!" he called out. "This is your chance to come quietly!"
"I think you and I both know I've never come quietly."
He reared himself up, knife in hand, took quick aim and threw. He heard her reaction immediately.
"Ugh. Asshole."
He quickly found himself running away again and the repetitive sound of bullet spray. Apparently, she had upgraded to an automatic weapon.
She made her way down the stairs and sprayed the gun about the living room. He had already moved back to the kitchen. He shot at her, aiming for her legs. She pointed the gun back at him and pulled the trigger. He had to open the refrigerator door to block and crawled away to take shelter behind the counter.
"Ashi, I will not hesitate!"
"Really?" he heard her say. "Because I'm pretty sure I'm the one who has you backed into a corner."
She hadn't seen him move behind the counter and was nearly shot in the arm when he raised himself from his hiding place.
They chased each other all through the house, shooting, shattering glass, ruining the walls of their home. Not like it mattered much to Ashi. She was bored with this house anyway. The two eventually ran out of ammunition for their guns and were now forced to stalk each other with blades.
He had just made it back to their living room in silence, where their fighting began. A glint out of the corner of his eye alerted him when Ashi threw. Three knives, to be precise. He dodged two of them easily but miscalculated the trajectory of one of the other. It cost him. The blade sank into his palm, causing him to drop his own knife in surprise pain.
From there, things began to move very quickly.
Ashi burst into the room, landing a solid hit on his cheek with her fist, sending him stumbling backwards towards the wall. He regained his senses, dodging another oncoming blow from her. Her fist went straight through the glass of a china cabinet, the clear shards cutting into her knuckles.
He dug the blade from his palm and tossed it aside. She yanked her fist from the cabinet and aimed a kick for his head. Jack put up his forearms to block and countered with a hard, open-palmed hit to her chest. She tumbled over the couch and fell to the floor. She struggled to catch her breath, winded by the blow, slow to get up.
"Ashi?" he called out nervously. Why was he still so concerned? It made her furious.
She leapt over the couch, aiming her fist at his head. He blocked it, spinning her around to throw her off balance and countered with an angled hand to her neck. She threw a hand up to block, grabbing his wrist and twisting. She butted her head at his forehead. Her leg lifted and delivered a punishing kick to his abdomen, sending him flying backwards and shattering what was left of the glass of the china cabinet.
Jack rapidly blinked away his double vision and steeled his senses. He lunged at her, grabbing her, and knocking her into the wall hard enough so her head cracked the wall. She was quick to duck, avoiding a brutal elbow aimed for her head. It was a good thing, too, as his blow released another chunk from the wall.
She wrapped her hands around his neck and pushed him back enough to give herself room to knee him in the stomach. She was successful the first time, not so much the second. He blocked and broke her grasp, putting his hands on her shoulders to return his knee into her stomach. He turned away and threw her to the ground.
She lay sprawled on the floor, barely any time to catch her breath, as Jack descended on her. But Ashi was nothing if not relentless, clawing at every inch of his body she could. Jack did his best to avoid her hands, wrapping his own around her throat. If he could just restrict her airway, for a little bit, and render her unconscious...
His jaw cracked as Ashi managed to free one of her fists and punch him in the face. Repeatedly.
Had this been a sparring match, he would be impressed. But now he was just pissed off. He leaned up to smack her hand away from him, which gave her the perfect opportunity to release herself completely and throw him off of her.
She pounced, fisting her hand in the collar of his shirt and aiming a punch to his nose. He caught her fist and broke her arms apart, closing his eyes as he thrust his head upwards towards hers. She cried out at the impact. She rolled off of him, clutching her eye.
Jack rolled away from her and stood.
Don't ask her if she's okay. Don't ask her if she's okay. Don't. Ask. Her.
He couldn't help himself. "Ashi?" She didn't give him time.
She ran towards him in an instant and tackled him, the pair falling over the side of the couch, knocking the wind out of Jack as his back hit the floor. He recovered quickly, well, quicker than she did, she was still dizzy from the blow to her head. They stood slowly, panting heavily, eyes locked on each other, keen on when the other would make a move.
She blew air from her lips upwards to move the bangs from her forehead and stood up straight. He leaned his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
The glint from two blades bathed in moonlight redirected their focus. A moment later they lunged, tumbling over the couch to grab a respective blade. They confronted each other, each with a knife sidled directly against the other's throat.
They stood close enough that they could feel their breaths mingle. Jack looked into the eyes of his enraged wife. The same eyes that once spoke of so much love. He knew he could not let her leave. During their fight, he had convinced himself that he couldn't let her live. But the longer they stood together, the less he believed it.
His conviction faltered.
He pulled back, dropping the knife to the floor. The sound was stunning, echoing through the room with the ear-splitting clarity of nails on a chalkboard.
"I cannot. I won't."
Ashi pressed the blade into her husband's neck with a fraction more force.
"No! Don't do that! Come on!" She could feel tears brimming in her eyes. Her voice cracked. "Come on!"
Ashi was experiencing a similar conflict in her mind. It had been easy enough to shut off her emotions in the heat of battle. But now, standing so close to him, the look of sadness in his eyes.
No, she thought. If she killed him, if she shut down for one more moment, becoming cold and unfeeling, and ended this right now, she could be free. If she killed him, she could be free.
"Do it if you must," he whispered. Her hands were shaking. She tightened the grip on her knife to steady herself but it did nothing to clear the blurriness of her vision.
A tear fell to her cheek.
Jack slowly moved his hand up to knock the blade away from his throat. He pulled her head to his and kissed her.
The knife slipped from her hand immediately and she returned his kiss with fervor. Any and all conflict she felt had been tempered. Her mind only sought one thing now. Her hands moved up to cradle the sides of his head and dug her nails into his hair, loosening it from the band that kept it together.
Jack crushed his lips to hers for a few more moments before roughly shoving her until her back hit the wall. She bit her lip in glee. He had never really been the type to manhandle her, so for him to be this intense was an absolute thrill.
She watched him unbutton his shirt, with one hand, with speed she'd never seen. She pulled his torso toward her as their mouths met again with dizzying energy. She wrenched the fabric down his shoulders and he shrugged it off. He leaned back and grabbed the top of her dress, ripping it open to expose her chest.
She gasped. She was a moment away from making a devilish comment. Jack silenced her with his mouth. He was in no mood for words.
He shoved the dress down her shoulders so that it bunched at her waist. He reached underneath it to drag his nails up her thighs and push her up on the wall, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. They ground against each other, moaning into each other's mouths with urgency.
His lips left her mouth to leave a wet, biting trail down her neck, her chest, lapping at her nipples greedily. She made a fist in his hair and threw her head back with a high-pitched groan. He ran his tongue back up her chest and his eyes met hers. His eyes were on fire.
Ashi's breathing faltered. "Goddamn."
He turned away from the wall, carrying her, and set her down beside the couch quickly, before spinning her around and bending her over it. He dropped to his knees immediately and pushed the fabric of her dress up her legs. He licked the back of her thigh, all the way up to the curve of her ass and bit down hard on the soft flesh. Ashi closed her eyes, back arching, and cried out into the air.
He stripped her of her panties and ran his tongue over her. He moaned. She was already so wet.
He stood, barely pushing his slacks down to free himself before burying himself inside her. They both moaned raggedly at the sensation. Jack wasted no time slamming his hips against hers, sinfully watching himself sink into her over and over and over.
Ashi gripped the fabric of the couch, grounding herself against his assault, and moving her hips to match his thrusts. "Oh, god," she groaned. He was already so, so deep. But she was greedy. She wanted him deeper.
She lifted a leg to rest her knee on top of the couch, giving each other a slightly different angle. Jack gripped her ass with a hiss.
"Fu—mmm," he panted, heavily, as her muscles tightened around him.
Ashi exhaled with a husky laugh. It might have been the closest she'd ever come to hearing him curse.
She wanted to change that tonight.
She arched her back and purposely clenched her inner walls. She didn't do all of those kegel exercises for nothing. She squealed in delight as his moans became louder, his thrusts nearly bruising in strength.
Unfortunately—well, no, it was actually very fortunate for her—her plan backfired. Where she was trying to get him to come so hard he'd let a naughty word slip, engaging her muscles around him actually heightened her own pleasure. She wasn't sure how much longer she could last.
She felt his hands slide up her back to grip her shoulders, giving him leverage to fuck her harder. One hand sunk into her hair and pulled and that's when she screamed.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," she said, over and over, each time higher pitched until she snapped. "Oh god, oh god—Jack! Fuck!"
Jack clenched his teeth together so hard he thought his jaw would break. The noises she was making made him growl. The heat of her, so wet and tight, made his hips buck erratically. His fist in her hair trembled as his grip strengthened. He threw his head back.
He exploded.
"Ashi!"
He closed his eyes as he released himself inside of her. His heart was pounding. He could hear blood pumping in his ears. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, gasping for air, trying to steady himself as his thrusts slowed. He leaned down to kiss the dampened skin of her back.
Ashi could swear, on anyone's life, that she heard him whisper into her back.
"Shit."
Her own panting was now mingled with the sound of victorious laughter.
He slid out of her and Ashi immediately rolled over the front of the couch to lay on her back on the cushions. She stretched her arms above her head as he moved to hover over her. She brought a hand down and immediately punched him in the jaw.
She burst out laughing at the look of pure shock on his features. She shoved him off of her to the floor and straddled him.
Jack looked up at his wife with a smirk. "Still trying to kill me?"
She leaned down over him, twisting her fingers in his hair with a seductive smile. "Maybe I'm just trying to render you paralyzed." She grinned. "I've never heard you curse before."
"What?"
She moved her head to breath into his ear. "I heard it, while you were still so deep inside of me." She nipped at his earlobe. "You cursed."
He flushed. "I did not."
Her lips moved to his neck. "Yes, you did." He protested again but she wasn't listening. She moaned into his neck.
"I want you to talk dirty to me," she said, running her tongue up his throat. "I want you to tell me exactly how you want to fuck me."
He groaned. "Ashi..."
"Fine," she sat up and scraped her nails down his chest. Her smile was positively wicked. "Then maybe I'll just tell you."
Hours, a handful of soul-shattering orgasms, and a brief rest period in which Ashi had so eloquently put—holy fuck, I can't feel my legs—later, Jack stood in the middle of their destroyed living room, having haphazardly brushed glass away from the floor. He admired his wife, dressed in his button-down shirt, who stood on her tiptoes, exposing the backs of her thighs. She was reaching for a particular record jacket. She removed the vinyl and placed it on the turntable, gently moving the tonearm onto the record's groove.
Dulcet music filled the space, soft and romantic, a sharp contrast to their ravished den. She turned to him and walked towards him slowly, biting her lip in an adorably shy smile. He returned it.
Ashi roamed her eyes up and down her husband's physique. Bare chested, underwear long since neglected, leaving his unbelted slacks to rest temptingly low on his hips. He had pulled his hair back but it was messy, a few strands escaping to frame his face. She reached for him, raking her nails up his sides and quietly laughing as his abdominal muscles tensed and he shivered. She moved her hands up further to rest her wrists on his broad shoulders.
"You weren't," she said, "faking it when you said you liked Dean Martin, right?"
He wrapped an arm around her waist and brought the other up to brush her hair behind her ear. "I was not," he whispered. He let his knuckles linger across her cheek as he held her close. He leaned his forehead to rest against hers as they slowly moved to the rhythm of the music.
She took a deep breath in and out, a small, contented smile on her face.
He pulled back slightly to kiss her forehead. He ran his fingertips across her eyebrow, frowning as he saw the slightly discolored skin where a bruise was forming. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Minor casualty of war, my love," she said back. She looked up at him and noticed a similar flourish of color on his jaw. "You aren't exactly unscathed, yourself." She kissed it tenderly.
"Hm," he laughed quietly. "I should not be surprised. You are as impressive as ever."
"Years of training will do that to a girl."
"Years?" He frowned. "How long have you been... involved in this line of work?"
"Longer than I ever wanted to be." She averted her gaze. "It's not exactly something I'm proud of."
"Ashi. I'm—"
"Don't," she interrupted. "Don't pity me, Jack. I did what I had to."
His voice lowered to a whisper, hesitant to ask the question pressing his mind. "How many?"
"How many what?"
"...People."
"How many people have I killed?" She smirked suddenly, despite the gravity of the situation. "That's a rather rude question to ask, don't you think? It's like asking a woman how much she weighs."
The gentle touch of his hand left her cheek as he offered her a serious expression. She swallowed, slightly unnerved by the look but pressed on despite herself and turned the tables of his inquiry.
"I suppose I should ask you the same question."
"We are... that is... different," he answered. "I have only taken lives as a last resort. For self-defense."
"Oh please," she scoffed. "Slinking around the underbelly of the city, busting up drug dens, looking for a fight?" She tilted her head in feigned wonder. "Can it really be called 'self-defense' when you're the antagonizer?"
Her narrowed his eyes at her. "Is it part of your covert persona that you have a smart mouth?"
She smiled wickedly and spoke in a low voice, enunciating every word carefully. "Oh, I'll show you a smart mouth."
She pushed him towards the wall as she kissed him, her fingertips tracing the musculature of his hips, the fabric of his slacks, ready to pull them down and begin anew.
"In his defense," a voice said. Ashi was rendered dizzy as Jack spun her around, locking her to his waist, and grabbed a gun from the table adjacent to the wall. Ashi's eyes widened impossibly at their intruder.
She wore a black suit, similar to the skin-tight number Ashi wore during her missions, but hers was sleeveless, a hole cut at the top of it to expose her cleavage. She wore long, dark gloves and a devilish grin.
"He wasn't really being antagonistic. He was trying to stop a crime. Or future crime." The woman laughed, seemingly in genuine amusement at the situation. She looked at Jack. "That's what you would have said, right, love? Before your words were derailed by the promise of some lip service."
Jack's upper lip curled in hostility.
"Ikra."
Author's Note
OH SNAP.
Damn it, Ikra. Ashi was this close to getting on her knees. Why you gotta ruin things like that?
Stay tuned for the next chapter where things get even sillier! Well, actually, things are gonna start getting intense. When will I publish it? Who knows!
Reviews are always welcome! Thank you all for the love!