Scarred (Never After, #2)

by Emily McIntire

If you want to burn down hell, you must learn to play the devil’s game.

“Be safe, my queen,” Daria whispers to my back. My heart stutters. “I’m no one’s queen. I’m just the one who will burn the crown.”

That’s the difference between me and other people. They run away from the bad things, and I become them.

“I prefer you this way,” he coos from above me. “On your knees, chest heaving, and face flushed while you stare up at your betters.” He reaches down, his fingers cupping my chin and jerking until the muscles in my neck strain. “Let this be a lesson, little doe. Don’t forget your place.” “And where is that?” I force out through the tightness in my throat, my body shaking from the anger that’s pouring through my veins. He grins, and the sight of it is so sinister it makes dread crawl through my insides like a thousand spiders. “Trembling at my feet.”

No one else has treated me the way she does—with anger brimming so potently that it tries to bleed through their gaze and strike me down. It makes me want to shove my cock down her throat and see if she’d try to bite it off, just so I could punish her for using teeth. So I’ll go find my little doe. If only to get off on her hate before I toss her to her king.

“You thirst for power?” he rasps, his palm ghosting across my collarbone before wrapping around my throat. “I can fill you with it until you scream.”

Every time I see her, there’s this need to push her until she snaps, breaking apart that painted-on poise she uses to fool the world. And snap she did.

I think of her tongue running along the underside of my length, tracing the throbbing vein, and the tension coils even tighter when I picture my dick stuffing her so full she can’t even breathe as she swallows every drop I give her.

“Does your sweet cunt drip from just the thought of him, the way I know it does for me?”

“I’d like to draw you,” I rephrase, moving in closer, my fingers dancing across her skin. “Just like this, with your face kissing the stars… I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m going to kiss you now,” I tell her. “Why?” she whispers. “Because, ma petite menteuse, the thought of not kissing you makes me want to die.”

“What is hate but obsession tinged with fear?”

“The truth is, I am yours. Wholly. Inexplicably. Painfully. Unconditionally.” He moves my hand until the dagger presses against his throat. “And if you need to sacrifice my soul so you’re able to live with yours, then do it.”

“You could burn down the entire kingdom until it’s nothing but charred rubble, and I would crawl over the embers with glee, so long as I could worship at your feet.”

“If something happens, know that I will find you in every lifetime, Sara Beatreaux. You are mine, and not even death can keep you from me.”