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To all the pretty little psychos who crave a blade to the throat
I regret to inform you that your grandmother died in captivity; however, your brother is still safe.
The only way I’ll ever get free is to kill my dad and his psycho sons.
The person I just shot is Capello’s first-born, Gregor, but noise wasn’t part of the plan.
One minute, they’re nice and the next, they’re feral hounds barking to be euthanized.
She continues slicing something on the chopping board, using the precision of a sushi chef. I glance over her shoulder to see what she’s cutting, and my heart stops. It’s a severed penis.
“You’re making a sandwich?” I ask, incredulous. She nods. My stomach churns. “Why?” “They need to know I’m not afraid.” “The voices in your head?” I whisper, my pulse quickening.
Deluded as well as dangerous.
Leroi shoves a sandwich under my nose. “Eat.” “Is it cock?” I snarl, wanting to get under his skin.
Leroi scoops me into his arms and chuckles. “Have you learned your lesson, Seraphine?” No. I’d murder a room full of men again in a heartbeat.
With a nod, Seraphine heads to the exit. I follow, already planning on sleeping with one eye open and a loaded gun under my pillow.
I curl my hands into fists, letting my fingernails dig into my palms. His rejection hurts worse than the collar. Maybe I should have killed him when I had the chance.
With the pulse between my legs pounding hard enough to fill my ears,
I didn’t mean to make him erect, but it’s too late to think about that part of his anatomy.
I lower the knife behind my back to his erection. “Are you sure about that?”
“Fuck,” he groans. “A-alright. You can stay, but only if you take that knife off my cock.” “You first.” I nod toward the gun. He enables the safety and sets it down on the bed.
“You really need to do something about your castration kink.” “Are you making fun of me?” I growl. “Believe me, angel, nothing about you holding a blade to my cock is funny. Now, please, take that knife off my throat before you puncture something.”
I take another look at Seraphine’s face. There are no signs of the tears that were threatening to fall, and she looks just like the defiant girl who taunted me with a cock sandwich. Scratch that. She’s more like the little vixen who sat and slid on my shaft.
Her expression softens, and she bites her lip. “I don’t trust anyone else. And I know I can trust you not to freak out.”
“I know nothing about psychology.” “But you know how to control your urges.”
“I’m a monster, not a mentor,” I mutter. “Then teach me to be a better monster,” she says with a practiced pout.
Before I can say anything, she slides a hand over mine. Electricity zips up and down my spine as she clutches my finger. “You’re the only one I can touch. You’re the only person I trust.”
“I’m not a good man.” I mumble. “I don’t need a good man,” she replies. “I need someone who understands me.” “The training will be difficult.” She gives me an eager nod. “There will be punishment for failure.” “Are there rewards for being a good girl?” she whispers, her voice husky.
“If your reward is an orgasm, what kind of punishments can you tolerate?” I lean back in my seat to observe her reaction. Her cheeks flush. “Um... spanking. Maybe leather bondage. I’ve never tried that.” “How do you even know about BDSM?” She raises a shoulder. “I’m not as innocent as I look. I learned a lot in the past five years.”
“Spanking would be better,” I reply with a shrug.
Taming Seraphine won’t be as easy as giving Miko a place to stay.
The sound of creaking has me turning around. Seraphine stands in the doorway of her room, her features a hard mask. In her hand is a pistol. “Who the hell is Rosalind?”
By the time I return, I want you in your room, kneeling. Is that understood?” My heart skips a beat. “Alright.” “You will address me as sir,” he says, his voice stern. Arousal hits me straight in my core, making my knees tremble. It takes every effort to keep my voice even when I reply with “Yes, sir.”
“Crawl to me.”
Leroi studies my face for several painful moments before nodding. “You will submit to a spanking.” “Yes, sir,” I rasp.
After the sixth spank, she finally cries, “One!” “Good girl.” I stroke her ass cheeks, soothing her reddened skin. Heat radiates from her flesh, and her pussy is even wetter. My index finger slides close to her folds, and she trembles. It would be so easy to slip into her slick heat, to circle her swollen clit until her cries reached a delicious crescendo. I remind myself that this is a punishment.
As my fingers graze the few inches of flesh closest to her wetness, she moves into my touch. “Please,” she whispers. “Please, what?” I ask, enjoying the sound of her pleas. “Tell me what you want.” “Touch me,” she says, her sweet voice sounding like molten sin. “I need you.” I slide my knuckles down her spine, eliciting a delicious moan. Seraphine’s back arches, and the sight is beyond tempting.
I’m the one with a gun to his head and outweigh him by at least fifty pounds, yet he’s begging Seraphine for mercy? Interesting.
He hurt Seraphine. He made her bleed. My vision fogs with red rage. Rage at letting Seraphine get hurt. Rage at the powerless boy I once was who couldn’t stop my bastard stepfather from hurting the two women I was supposed to protect. It clouds my senses, grips my throat, and fills my lungs until I can’t breathe.
“Look at me or I’ll stop,” he commands. My eyes snap open, and I’m once again transfixed by the intensity of his stare. “Good girl.”
“Oh god,” I moan. “Not god,” Leroi growls. “Say my name.” “Leroi.” He grazes the textured head around my clit, making it swell to the point of bursting. “Once more, angel.” “Fuck,” I groan. “L-Leroi.” “That’s my girl.”
I would follow this man into hell for another taste of this pleasure.
“We’re not finished.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “You were so beautiful, coming apart at my command.”
I slice the meat into tiny strips, imagining them as Leroi’s misshapen heart. It’s cold and dry with only the tiniest bit of moisture, but the real thing would stain my fingers with blood. Once I’ve cut through the steak, I move onto a cabbage the size of his head. The satisfying crunch of the knife slicing through its thick leaves feels like carving his skull.
I can’t tell if I’m taming Seraphine or if she’s taming me.
It’s just one kiss. Just one taste. “Fuck it.” I lean down and press my lips to hers, and instantly regret it. Kissing Seraphine is like finding home. As I pull back, she loops the tape measure around the back of my neck and holds me in place.
“You’re so beautiful with your ass pointing at the sky,” I whisper, my hands tracing the curve of her little red ass. “Now open your legs.”
“Say it again,” I demand. She moves her hips back and forth. “Leroi, please fuck me.” “You beg so beautifully for my cock.”
“That’s it,” I rasp, my lips brushing her neck. “Fuck this cock and take your pleasure.”
“But I’m really good at it?” I snap my teeth. He huffs a laugh. “Behave.” I sink into my seat and pout. “You think I’m going to bite it off.” “You may not be able to control yourself,” he says, the corner of Leroi’s mouth lifting into a smirk. “My cock is really tasty.”
Killing is dull without an audience.
