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“Inevitable checkmate.” He’s staring at me with hooded eyes that see all the lies I’ve tried to shove deep. He knows that what we just did broke a wall I’ll never be able to rebuild. “It means you’re mine now, Hex.”
“I know you’re scared,” she whispers, fingering through my hair and winding it together. “Pretending to know what you went through won’t make it better, and arguing for you to let me in doesn’t take it away.” I bite the inside of my cheek as she fixes my hair, reminding me of all the times I’d done just this same thing for her. When did she grow up? “But I think Silas could be good for you, Coraline. I think you could be good for him too. The both of you reek of sadness.”
wish you could see yourself the way I do. The way others see you. You’re not this cold bitch, Coraline. No matter what the world tries to tell you.” Her fingers push the pin into the top of my bun, effectively keeping the strands in place. “You’re kind, and your heart was made to give. You’re fiercely protective, more afraid of hurting others than you ever are of wounding yourself. You are allowed to let love in, Cora. I’m not telling you to fall for him. I’m just asking if the opportunity presents itself, remain open to the possibility. I’m asking you to take a chance at being happy. Seeing
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Her eyes glimmer in the sunlight, like molten gold. Melted honey in coffee. My fucking favorite.
let her see me, unmoving. I let her know that I’m not running away from this, from her. I’m in this with her. I’m putting my trust in her, too. “I’m seconds away from kissing your fucking mouth because you look this beautiful and still feel the need to ask me if I’m sure about marrying you.”
“The first time I kiss you, Hex, is when I make you my wife.”
“Silas, I promise to be your peace when the world provides only war. To be your secret keeper and safe haven. Today, I vow to be the one person who accepts you for who you are and who you will become.” She glances up at me, holding my gaze as she speaks the last line. “Till death do us part.”
“On this day, I vow to make your rage my own, to weather the storm of your revenge and keep you forever safe. I promise to stand by you. No matter what comes, you will never be alone. Till death do us part.”
“Nothing I can ever give you will resemble love, Silas.” “Then I’ll pretend.”
A soft whimper comes from the back of her throat, making me bite down on her bottom lip so she’ll give me more of that sound. I suck it into my mouth to fill me with her flavor, that dark magic stuck deep in her veins that tastes like fucking honey and sugar in the back of my throat.
I want to fuck my wife, right in this room, and I don’t care who watches. Let them see her spread open on one of these wooden pews. Let the world see how pliable and so fucking good she is for me, with her legs shaking as she begs me to stop making her come, only for me to keep going until she finishes twice more. More. More. More. It’s the witchcraft of her tongue making me crave her in unhealthy amounts.
We are leaving this room as husband and wife. I know this marriage is fake. I have gotten very good over the years at telling the difference between what is reality and what is my mind playing games. But nothing has felt more real than that kiss.
The ring is an adjustment, but calling Coraline mine? Easy.
“When they leave, are you going to let me christen this place?” He grits out as I tilt my head back into his chest, giving him more access to me. “Bend you right over this counter, watch you spread your legs, and stuff you with my cock until you’re dripping on my kitchen floor.”
The smell of vanilla hits my nose, and I realize that’s the sweet note in Silas’s scent. Vanilla, like his mother, carrying her love with him wherever he goes.
Crying
“My best friend spent his entire life swallowing his pain like rusty nails just to turn it into a weapon. I watched it eat him alive, and now I’m watching him in the aftermath,” he tells me. “Being mean? It won’t make me leave, Coraline. I’ve withstood storms much more violent than you. You are not what the world tells you. You are not a bitch. You are a girl. A girl who was abused. A girl just trying to survive.”
“You’re still living in survival mode. You just have to learn to turn it off, baby.”
“These are my paintings,” Coraline speaks into the silence. I follow her gaze around my office, her artwork I’d purchased at the gala hung along the slate gray walls. All twelve of them. “Rich asshole who paid double.” I tilt my glass in mock cheers. “Nice to meet you.”
The longer she stands there, the less resistance I have against the idea of seeing just how pretty that witchy mouth of hers is stretched and swollen around my dick. I want to use her tight fucking body as an outlet for this rage. Fuck all the guilt away.
“Did you forget who you married, Hex? Did you forget what I am, or did you ignore all the rumors and hope I was different?”
“Watch your fucking mouth, Coraline,” I warn, a threat at the back of my throat. “What little patience I have left is running thin. Don’t argue with me tonight.”
“And if I don’t? What are you going to do, Hawthorne?” A smirk unfolds on my lips, my tongue rolling across my front teeth. “I’ll fuck you until you break.” My voice is husky from lust. “I don’t have the patience to be nice to your body. I will fuck my pent-up aggression into your tight cunt until it leaks down your thighs. So, get the fuck out, or slide your ass on my desk and spread your legs.”
Coraline Whittaker likes to behave. And there is nothing I love more than turning a headstrong woman into a needy whore. Completely, utterly at my mercy, watching her whine and cry for an orgasm she can’t have unless I say so.
“You’re pierced?” The silvery moonlight catches the metal along my shaft, three barbells evenly spaced from base to mid-shaft, glinting as they stud the hard muscles of my cock. I drop her panties to my lap before I answer. “If you beg me to fuck you, I’ll show you what they’re for.”
“Don’t worry, Hex. I’m not gonna fuck you tonight. But you’re going to wish I did.”
My hand moves from between her thighs, reaching beside her hip to grab my gun while I place a warm kiss to the inside of her knee. She turns her head to look down her side when I nudge her wrist with the handle of my gun, offering the weapon to her. “What are you doing?” “Making sure you stay with me,” I murmur. “And giving you control if you don’t.” “You can’t be serious,” she breathes, chest heaving. “You’re going to let me hold a loaded gun to your head while you—” “I said it, didn’t I?” I interrupt, dragging my bottom lip up her inner thigh, barely touching her. Her dark eyes are lit
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“I’ll take a bullet in the skull, Hex. Just make sure you come on my tongue before you pull the trigger.”
“I’m trusting you not to kill me. You’re gonna trust me to eat your pussy.” I dive forward, cutting off any argument she may have. My tongue licks a stripe up the seam of her cunt, forcing Coraline to toss her head back with a whiney fucking moan that makes my cock jump in my hand. The cool metal of my gun presses against my temple, making my blood heat. This is the only way I want to die.
This is my Garden of Eden, and I’ll sin every time if it looks like her.
I bring my palm to her mouth, squeezing her cheeks, making her pucker those pretty lips. “Spit,” I order. And because she’s so desperate to be good for me, she does. Using the saliva from her mouth as lube, I wrap my hand back around my dick, moaning at the slick feeling of her spit and panties rubbing against every vein along my shaft.
“Does this make us even, baby? You letting me use your body? You think I’m gonna let you go after this? That smart mouth of yours is mine to fuck. This cunt will be my breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And when I’m feeling fucking sadistic, I’ll shove my cock in that tight ass just ‘cause I can.” I see...
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“Play with your tits for me. Show me how bad you want it. How bad you want to ride my cock.” My choked voice is low and raspy. “And if you wanna fuck yourself, use my gun to do it.”
Im sweating
“Fuck yes,” I groan, my breath hitching as she slowly guides the barrel of my gun through her soaked pussy lips and lifts her hips to grind against the lethal metal. The same weapon I used to kill someone tonight.
“Such a pretty fucking cunt. All needy and ready for me. You want to be a filthy little toy for me, Coraline? Just a hole for me to warm my cock up in?”
She has me, and she doesn’t even realize it, so consumed with trying to keep me at bay that she doesn’t know I want her pain. I want her screaming hurt and aching rage. That person she hides from the world, the one she fears in the mirror. I want her.
“Open,” I command against her mouth, watching as her eyebrows furrow in confusion, but her jaw lowers, pink lips parting for me. I hold her face in my hand before shoving the silk panties into her mouth. My come stains the fabric, some still dripping from the lace edges.
There is a desire in my gut that’s been pooling there since the moment I laid eyes on Coraline. It’s a violent fire that staggers and groans, writhes beneath the earth like it does beneath my skin. It’s completely unexpected and overwhelming, like it can’t get enough of itself. It bleeds and spreads from contact. It’s the death of the sun, replaced by the flecks of gold in her eyes. “You’re my wife, Coraline Hawthorne. If I want to cover myself in the blood of a thousand more men to protect you, I will,” I tell her. “They cannot hurt you without having to answer to me.”
No one talks about how powerful hands are. Not the innate strength they can exude but the feeling they can provide when attached to the correct person. Some hands can simply exist and evoke emotion. Silas has hands like that. Which is the most unfortunate thing in the world for me, personally.
Silas Hawthorne has a slutty fucking waist. But his hands. Silas’s hands are large, with wide palms and long fingers that move with subtle grace as he makes his coffee. The veins beneath his skin rise up like a miniature mountain range, running across his knuckles and trailing past his wrist to his arms. They squeeze and hold things with such force but a softness I’ve never seen. His hands make this feeling knot in my stomach.
“She still lives in the Springs. We could—” “You’re not allowed to stab her. If you get arrested, Thatcher is going to blame us, and I am not dealing with his melodrama,” Sage interjects before Lyra can finish her sentence, making her roll her eyes. “I was going to say we could slash her tires,” Lyra corrects, and although her features give an innocent, shy vibe, there is a look in her eye that tells me she’d kill someone if she had to.
“So, you two fucked?” she asks bluntly, smirking at me with a knowing glint in her eyes. I cough, taken aback. “What? No? Why do you ask? Did he say—” “Rook guessed. Said Silas had a post-orgasm glow.” She laughs.
“No one cares like Silas Hawthorne. We all have a curse, Coraline. That’s his.”
Silas is Silas. What you see is what you get. But with me, it’s different. Like that statement doesn’t apply when we are alone. Sometimes Silas is anything but Silas. He’s something else entirely. He’s the kind of man who buys an entire collection of your artwork because he doesn’t want anyone to have the secret parts of you that you do give to people willingly. He wants them all to himself.
My entire life, I have been made to believe I am unlovable. That I am a cursed, hard-to-love creature undeserving of kindness, and Silas just…he makes it look so easy. “I tell you what I need to feel better, and you just fix it? A snap of your fingers? What if I said stabbing Regina with a fork would make me feel better, Hawthorne?” He steps closer to me, rubbing his thumb across the lines on my forehead. “You’re in control of a monster, Hex. Whatever you need, it’s already yours.” The scary part isn’t that he views himself as a monster. It’s that I believe him.
Coraline is dark honey. Sweet, irresistible, but with an edge like no other. The perfect-looking doll for high society who could slip into heels and steal the heart of any person she crossed. But beneath the surface, there is a sharpness, a wickedness that told you she’d be a minx in the sheets. She’s what every man standing in this room wants but could never have. Because she’s mine.
“I don’t care if he’s a goddamn saint. No one touches my wife.”
I know thas right
“He gets close again?” He pauses, making eye contact with me. “I put a bullet in him with the gun I used to fuck your cunt with.”
“I’m not jealous, Hex.” There is a chuckle in his voice, dark and demanding. “I know what that uptight pussy of yours tastes like, and it’s my cock that you crave. I’m protective over what’s mine. Don’t confuse the two.” “I—” “Don’t fucking deny it,” he snaps, shaking his head a bit. “Don’t make yourself a liar.”
“Fuck you.” Silas carefully starts to undo the top few buttons of his shirt, exposing the golden-brown skin beneath, making my thighs rub together beneath my dress. “You could, if you’d let yourself. Submitting to me sexually doesn’t make you weak, Coraline.” He watches me, fucking me with his eyes. I wonder if he can see my heart beating with that intense gaze. “You want to run the show out there? I’ll lay the ground for you to walk on. In here? Let your mind go, and let me make you feel good, baby. Give me control, and I’ll show you how good letting go of it feels.”
Lust is a traitor.
