Insatiable (The Edge of Darkness, #1)

by Leigh Rivers

He’s probably the only person on earth who truly understands me, yet he lives thousands of miles away in a mental institution – he’s committed numerous crimes and is deemed too dangerous to live amongst the public.

The famous Tobias Mitchell, American psychopath. The insane killer who took over every news channel in the world. He’s labelled as ruthless and unpredictable. Dangerous. A threat to life. Yet, when we visit the institution, he’s a caring dad who wants to know everything that’s going on in our lives. He tries to be involved as much as he can and looks at my mum like she’s the only woman in the world, full of complete adoration. Even though he tried to kill her.

Ah, fuck. Freckles is even prettier when she’s mad. The butterflies are going fucking wild, and I have no idea how to repress the feeling.

The last person I slept with told me that as much as I’m a lovely girl, he couldn’t meet up again. Weirdly enough, he went missing a few days later, and still is.

As much as I’d like to say I’ve forgotten everything about Kade Mitchell, I’m a terrible liar.

He doesn’t smile often, so who is he talking to? Annoyingly, my traitorous heart beats faster. Who’s making him grin like that? No. Stop, Stacey. Who cares who makes him smile?

You’re nothing. You’re fucking dead to me. His voice echoes in my mind, a memory of the last time we spoke. Words he threw in my face; words I’d rather forget.

Yep. He still despises me. And after what I did to him, he has every reason to.

Until that night, when everything changed. Kade Mitchell has been the broken shadow in my life ever since, and it’s all my fault.

As far as I’m aware, we’ve never fucked. But he’s drugged me. Hit me. Made my life hell. I tried to run once, but it only made things worse. He became more violent.

My own worst nightmare. The stepbrother you don’t know about.

One day, I’ll be free. But I guess that’s the same day I slash his throat, because other than death, I’m not sure anything will stop him until I’m fully his. The thought of giving in to Chris makes me feel sick.

At that point, he was everything. And I lost him.

Kade hums, the rumbling sound vibrating against my back. “He doesn’t seem your type. Far too young.” He lowers his voice. “You prefer your quick fucks older, don’t you?” I don’t reply, concentrating on my unsteady breaths and the heat coiling around my spine.

Some of them Kade designed for me. They were supposed to be matching. I refuse to cover them up like he did.

I abruptly stop and put my hands on my hips, facing him with a scowl. “You’re distracting me.” Both his brows raise as he points at his chest. “Me? You’re the fucking distraction here.”

“I have plenty to say to you, but all I can think of is how sick you make me.” I give him a teasing smile that touches my eyes. “That’s all?” “I hate you.” “Yeah?” I manage to respond, even as he closes the infinitesimal distance between us. We’re almost chest to chest. “Not as much as I hate you.”

“Does this make you sick, Kade? To have me touching you this way? Is this a lie too?” He swallows, but the way he moves into my hand tells me he’s lying when he replies with gritted teeth, “Yes.”

I’ve dodged her for the past two years. I kept my distance when I visited at the weekends. Yet here I am, sitting with a solid, raging hard-on, imagining fucking my sister’s best friend in every position possible.

Stacey Rhodes is the devil in disguise. She’s hot as hell on the outside, has a personality that makes you fall for her, but is utterly ugly and fake on the inside. My traitorous cock clearly doesn’t know the difference between a snake and an angel and needs to stand the fuck down.

But then she called, and I had to leave.

Because that’s what she does. She draws you in, feeds you lies and feelings and fake bullshit, only to drop it all on your head.

Bernadette is nearly forty, married with a kid nearly the same age as me. She can literally do whatever and whoever she wants, and her repulsive husband allows it. She approached me when I was nineteen, told me a bunch of lies about being able to help with my dad’s case and I’ve been trapped with her ever since.

No one fucks Stacey and gets away with it. I can’t have her, but nobody else will.

No – one person is on my mind. She’s my sister’s best friend and she hates me.

As much as she looks innocent and sweet, she’s annoying; steals cigarettes out my mouth and walks away, rolls her eyes when I correct her, even if I’m right. She’s called me every name under the sun, and it makes my day ten times better.

I shouldn’t look at my sister’s best friend the way I do, but when Stacey Rhodes walks into the room, you can’t not look.

Stacey Rhodes tastes fucking divine. Addictive.

I want to kill him the most. His time will come.

Everyone she’s sent so far has turned up dead, without the need to use my guards. If she didn’t want her men killed, then she shouldn’t have sent me away to different countries for intense training in weapons and martial arts.

I love you. Nope, she didn’t love me. She had no idea what love was. I blocked her right after I typed several responses without sending any.

The anchor who broke me.

Surely I didn’t cause those bruises? I didn’t… Fuck. No, I wouldn’t hurt her. She wanted me to hold her firmly.

You don’t hate her, son. You’re just mad at her, my dad had said when I last visited.

“For the record,” he starts, pausing as he starts brushing his teeth, “I’d rather set my balls on fire than share a bed with you.”

We can pretend that we weren’t in love at one point. We can also pretend we aren’t sharing a hotel bed while hating each other’s guts.

What’s lost is lost, and I’m stuck trying to find my strength and voice.

“Rock your hips into my cock, Freckles,” he whispers quietly, and I nearly whimper. “I fucking dare you.”

Oh, he thinks I’m sleeping with my caller. But it’s either that or he questions me more about my bruises and cuts, and to be honest, I’d rather keep dry-fucking him while my abusive stepbrother is threatening me, none the wiser to my actions. A huge fuck you, Chris.

“When I find out who hurt you, I’m going to fucking destroy them. I’ll make sure to bleed them dry then fuck you next to their corpse. You got that?”

“I want you to sit on my face.” He yanks me up to his mouth, and I catch myself on the bedframe. “Suffocate me with this pussy.” Kade yanks me down by the hips and buries his face between my legs, and I moan so loud, I think the room next door hears.

Rule one: Stay away from your toxic ex-girlfriend. Rule two: Don’t unblock her number. Rule three: If you’re both in the same room, don’t fucking look at her – it’s a trap. Rule four: Under no circumstances will you have any sexual interactions with her. Rule five: Never forgive Stacey Rhodes.

I haven’t willingly participated in anything sexual for so long – or been turned on by the taste and sound.

Her back has some tattoos to go with those on her arms and legs. She’s like a fucking work of art of all my designs. I love ink; I love drawing tattoos, especially for her.

I’m seconds from fucking my ex, and I’m freaking out. Embarrassment.

Shit, I zoned out again. I shouldn’t have taken those lines earlier. I can’t function with or without them nowadays. If Stacey knew I was on something, she would kick me out of the hotel room and tell me to go fuck myself. I don’t even have a condom on, and I don’t care. I’ll fill her with every drop of my cum and watch it leak from her cunt. If I get her pregnant, then she’s shackled to me forever. The fuck am I doing?

My hands are shaking, my knees bouncing as I fist at my hair and feel the layer of sweat on my face. My vision blurs, and I feel myself losing consciousness. Fuck. It’s happening again. Fuck.

Touch is repulsive and unnecessary. I barely hug my own mother. A person openly wanting to touch and cuddle and feel makes my skin crawl. I’ve always been this way, but when Stacey touches me, even if it’s just a hand on my chest or shoulder, it feels different.

I only took two lines earlier, not the full bag, but I feel like I’m seconds from passing out from another overdose.

“When she’s in the manor, at the studio, or walking around the mall. If I don’t see her at least once every day, I lose my mind. I’ve climbed to her window to see her sleep, and I’ve been trying to hack her phone for the last year. I hacked Luciella’s.”