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“Violence is always the answer.”
We’re also a match made in mental health hell. I’m the psychopath with the antisocial personality, and Karson is more the sociopath. Or do I have it reversed? It’s been two decades since we received our official diagnoses, so I don’t remember. Either way, we’re both exponentially fucked in the head.
“Do you know what we do to thieves?” “Kill them?” I say. The driver’s deep voice echoes through the SUV, feeling louder with my eyes closed. His words are silky smooth. “No. We take them along for the ride.”
“Who did this to you?” I look away. “It’s none of your business.” “It is my business when it could affect my business. I should know if it’s someone I need to worry about.”
“Tell me. You haven’t been shy about using your words so far, so tell me you want me to rip you in two.” “I want it,” she whispers. “Good girl.”
“If you have any fantasies about running off the first chance you get, get them out of your head. I’m real overprotective of what belongs to me.” I turn her face and look into her eyes. She needs to understand the weight of what I say next. “For the remainder of this night, keep my cock inside you. And for the remainder of this trip, you and your pussy are mine.”
“That’s my good girl.”
“I want to make you feel good,” I growl against her mouth. “My good girl.”
“I’ll always protect you, but you’ll have to accept me for the killer I am. The man who can make you feel so fucking good after causing the ultimate pain to someone else. Can you do that, wanderer?”
“Yes,” she whispers as she cozies up to my body.
“If anyone tries to kill her, they’ll have to go through me. That includes you.”
“You’ve always been the level-headed one between the two of us, always the responsible, cautious killer, so why the fuck are you throwing it all out the window for her?”
“Mine.”
“You’re mine, wanderer.” “You can’t make someone stay with you.” My hand rises and twirls strands of her blonde hair between my fingers. “I can when that someone saw what you did. There’s no going back after what you witnessed.” “So I’m stuck?” “There’s worse people to be stuck with.” “Worse than two fucking contract killers? And I think it’s more than that. Hitmen don’t get turned on by hits. By killing. You two are sick.”
“You don’t like that I could kill you, but you love that I’m too fucking obsessed with you to do so.”
“It turns you on to know you made a big, selfish killer weak enough to drop to his knees. Even though I have a taste for blood, you want my tongue on your pussy.”
God, I’m starting to like her, and I fucking hate that for me. My little thief. His wanderer. Whoever the fuck she is, she’s getting under my skin.
“You’re mine, and I will always be the last man to mark you.”
“Fine? I’m fine? I’m fucking two serial killers for fun!” I shout.
Karson groans. “That is so fucking hot, thief.” “Good girl, wanderer,” Gentry growls in my ear. “My little killer.”
“You did such a good job, my dirty little killer,” Gentry whispers. “No one who hurts you will be allowed to draw breath. I promise you that.” “We promise you that,” Karson clarifies as his tongue swipes my lips once more.
“You got the revenge you deserve. Now you’re one of us.”
“My fantasy would involve your belly swelling with my child,”
“My thief,” Karson whispers as he kisses the back of her neck. “Will you ever stop calling me that?” she asks. “I stole one car.” So mouthy. As usual. “You’ve stolen more than that,” Karson says through a laugh.
“I love you, wanderer,” I say as I pull her into me and kiss her.
“I love you too.” Her gaze bounces between us. “Both of you.”
And she is Kursed. We all are.
