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If Genevieve is my end, then I open the door to death with no hesitation.
What has gotten into all these men? I can’t keep up any longer, and I’m beginning to favor the ghosts that haunt these halls. At least they are predictable.
“I want you so badly, it hurts to breathe without you near,” he whispers softly, finally—finally—gracing me with his voice.
“Because you possess my lungs, as you do my heart, Genevieve. And I intend to take yours for myself,” he answers, his voice deepening impossibly further.
“I will bleed for you, mia rosa, but I must require you to bleed for me, too,” he warns.
“I call you my rose because for you, I would take all your pain so you would suffer none,” I tell her softly. “I would go through hell for you. Die for you. Do anything you asked. I love you, mia rosa. More than you will ever know.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the devil was on my shoulder, whispering to me in such a wicked way.
“Ravishing,” he breathes. “Nothing could compare to the likes of you, my love. You are the most beautiful flower and the rarest gem, more breathtaking than any of earth’s wonders.”
“I’ve always loved cookies. Maybe because I enjoy eating things that are sweet and melt on my tongue.”
“I would follow you anywhere, Genevieve. If you were standing at the edge of the earth and wanted to fall, I would only stop you long enough to take hold of your hand so I could go with you. There isn’t a life where I wouldn’t be your phantom, or a death where I wouldn’t be your reaper.”
“Be a good girl and fucking come for me, Genevieve. Don’t make me ask you again,”
“You’re so goddamn pretty when you come. Fuck, Genevieve. Keep fucking my fingers. Your pussy is squeezing them so tight.”
“You’ve lost your mind,” I whisper. That only widens the satisfied smirk crawling up his face, and I’m tempted to smack it. The man has every right to feel good about himself, but that doesn’t mean he has to gloat about it. “Since the moment I saw you, mia rosa.”
“I think you can squeal louder than that, no?”
“That”—I breathe shakily—“is a dangerous weapon.” He grins cheekily. “If only it could win the war.” “It won me,” I confess. “Is that enough?” His long fingers wrap around himself, and I nearly choke from the erotic sight. “We’ll see if you still feel the same way after it makes you scream,”
“Now crawl to me, mia rosa.”
I’ve seen many beautiful sights in my years. But nothing could even begin to compare to Genevieve Parsons crawling on her hands and knees for me.
“I rather like it when you beg.” “My God, Genevieve,” I choke out. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Haven’t I told you before? I rather like when you beg.” His brow furrows, and his face twists as if he’s in pain. “Fuck, Genevieve, please,” he pleads, his voice lined with gravel. “Please ride my cock. Please make me come. Please fuck me. I need it so bad, baby.” I moan. “Good boy. You sound so pretty when you beg.”
“Baby, the only thing I want for my birthday and Christmas is your love.” He pauses. “And maybe your pretty cunt on my face. Otherwise, I want for nothing else.”
“I am destined to love you from the shadows, mia rosa,” he says quietly. “I will never be more than your phantom.”
“Does one stand beneath a waterfall expecting to breathe?” he retorts, clearly unconcerned. “I beg you to suffocate me, mia rosa. I’ll die a happy man.”
