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“You’re hardly in a position to be negotiating,” he says, voice thick. “Should I get on my knees then?”
“Surely, you’re familiar with piercings?” “Well, yeah.” I blink, staring. “But I’ve never actually seen one there. Jesus, that looks painful.” “It was. But I’ve had it a long time, and I can assure you, I rarely even remember it being there.” My nose wrinkles. “Why’d you do it?” “Ask me again when I’ve bottomed out inside you.”
“And what would you have done if I came inside you? If I pumped your sweet cunt full of my cum? So full that she’d leak for a week, and you’d have to walk around with the reminder of how deliriously good I felt every damn day.”
“It’s true; I do often think of you when I come late at night. I’ve found it entirely impossible to forget how your tight cunt enveloped my cock so fucking well, like it had been made expressly for my enjoyment. Are you finally admitting you think of me too?”
want to watch her burn. “Come. Sit.” Pushing back away from the desk, I dip my chin. “Let’s talk.” “I’m not a fucking dog.” “No, you’re a brat who enjoys pissing me off.”
“Do you dance, Ms. Astor?” Snorting, I cross my arms. “Do I look like someone who dances?” “You look like a woman who sacrificed her soul to the devil. I learned long ago not to judge based on appearances.” Rude. “Yeah, well, what’s it say about you if I look like that and you still want to fuck me?” “Perhaps I’m the devil.”
“Let’s… get you cleaned up.” He helps me into a sitting position, but I shrug out of his hold, ignoring the searing pain that racks my body as I do so. “I can do it myself.” Blatantly ignoring my proclamation, he gently pushes Laurel off my chest, then he not so gently shoves his arms under my neck and knees, scooping me up into the air and carrying me to the shower.
“We shouldn’t,” she manages, the sound so soft that I almost miss it. Inhaling deeply, I realize she somehow smells like chlorine and oranges, like the scent is ingrained into her being. I want it in mine too. Want it to be the first thing I notice when I wake in the morning and my last conscious observation before sleep. Twisting my fingers lightly in her hair, I move a little closer. “There’s no future tense about it, m’eudail. We already are.”
“Well, that explains the piano and floor. And the wall in his office.” “The what?” I glance down at the ground, the crystalline polish glittering under my feet. “My son isn’t a very… colorful person. Well, he wasn’t, but recently he seems quite enamored with the hues of blue.”
“God doesn’t get on his knees to worship,” I mutter against her, taking her clit between my teeth. “You’re in bed with the devil, m’eudail, and I don’t think he intends on letting you go.”
Putting her glass on the nightstand, she shrugs, and I hold out a fresh tampon and warm washcloth.
“You’re building a pool.” I nod, threading my fingers through her hair. “Why?” Closing my eyes, I consider not answering this question either. Swimming has never appealed to me. The water leaves you vulnerable, which is why I’ve always simply avoided it. My lips are dry when they open again. “Because you said you like to swim.”
My old nose ring on his necklace catches my eye,
“Fuck, do it. Come for me. Soak my cock like a good slut. ’Cause that’s what you are for me, right? My pretty, perfect little whore.
“M’eudail,” he moans, sliding his hand from my breast and grabbing the back of my neck, yanking me down for a kiss as he takes over, railing me from below. “Please. I need… I’m…”
this was hot
The teacup in my hand explodes, porcelain splintering into a million little pieces, before I even realize how tightly I’m gripping it. A few pieces nick my skin, and blood beads along my fingers, dripping onto the floor. A floor I had installed because the azurite reminded me of her.
“Take it, m’eudail. Take it all. Gonna fill you up, breed you, and keep you here, tucked into my side forever. You’re mine.”
He’s a murderer. Worse than that, a politician.
Alistair stands just outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, a golden bow and arrow poised in his arms.
