More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“You call out God’s name one more time while I’m between your legs, and even he won’t be able to save you, little lamb,” he rumbled into my ear.
“My dirty little whore. What would your God say if he knew you were calling his name while you squirmed on my cock like this?”
Once you’d begun to toy with the very fabric of your own sanity, all you could do is grab a sled and slide down that steep slope like the Devil himself was on your back.
People weren’t for me. They were entirely too manipulatable. Half the time, I was thinking about what they would look like if I took a cheese grater to their face. It soothed that kind of deep itch I just couldn’t scratch myself. But I kept that shit to myself.
“Who’s hurt you?” She hesitated. “Who’s hurt you, Romina?” I hardened my voice, but she kept her gaze down.
“The world is a terrible, fucked up, horrible place full of atrocities and monsters.” I pulled her chin up so I could look at her better. “We are no different.”
She was broken, and her shattered pieces called out to me, as if they knew we fit together perfectly.
ME: She’s not a spy. Be nice, or I’ll come get her. SONNY: Good luck. She looks better with my leash around her neck.
A story can hurt you. A good story can wound, maim, and scar. A good story will leave you questioning what you believe to be right or wrong for the sake of pseudo-pleasure fulfilled by some neurons shooting off sparks in your brain. A good story will tear your soul out from your chest and keep you from moving on until you find another that can take its place.”
“I don’t know, Pet. I’m not a monster. I’m a son of the Devil. I don’t ask for anything; it’s offered to me freely.”
I just made you a little less desirable to them. A little safer.” “And to you?” she asked. “That depends: do you want to be safe or desired? You can’t have both with me.”
I brought my fingers to my mouth, savoring the lingering taste of her blood and cunt still on my skin. Fuck.
Every experience with Sonny seemed to be borderline terrifying. It was religious, in the way it always left me afraid of a higher power.
He seemed amused, and the illusion of a smile graced his face for just a blink. It didn’t look right.
😂
“Let me show you that pain and pleasure can coexist,”
“I can’t breathe,” I rasped out. His grip tightened. “If I wanted you to breathe, I’d let you.”
“You believe in the Devil?” I asked him. He smiled large enough to show teeth. It was an odd thing to see on his face, and it made the hairs on my arms stand. I wasn’t sure I enjoyed it.
“I don’t believe in good or evil. I believe in chaos. I believe in disorder and letting it run wild within your soul. I believe surrendering to the worst parts is the only way one can truly know themselves.
“Oh my sweet little pet, make no mistake: I am that abomination,” he said, reaching out to caress my face. “And it is your soul I will devour.”
very eyes. “It goes without saying, but if you repeat anything you’re about to see, I’ll fucking rip your eyeballs out myself before I stuff them down your throat, yeah?”
“I don’t understand it,” I said honestly. “But it’s beautiful.” “That is exactly how beautiful things should be. But be careful, because they are the ones that hurt the most.”
Sacrilege dripped from his every pore.
“I want everything you can give me, including the air in your lungs. I want your blood. I want your life. I want your fucking death, Romina.”
Romina was the saddest song I’d ever heard, and her melody called out to the most twisted parts of my soul.
“Some people enjoy the madness. They revel in the chaos.”
“That’s right, isn’t it, Pet? You take it like a good girl, don’t you?”
“You knew?” she whisper-yelled, as if she couldn’t believe it. “That Sonny was into some freaky shit? Yeah, and now I know you are too,”
There was something about dark-haired girls—no matter how sweet they painted themselves out to be, they always tended to dive headfirst into oblivion when presented with the opportunity, as if the call of the void was simply too loud to ignore, too magnetizing to not plunge deep inside of the madness and claim it for their own. Romina wore sheep’s clothing, but there was a wolf inside her too.
“Um, excuse me? She’s on her period. She should be with other menstruators, doing menstruating things, not hanging around with you half-demon freaks.”
Sonny Santorini wasn’t one way or another. He wasn’t anything, and he was somehow everything all at once, like a well carved mountain that proudly showed its riverside scars because it knew they were trophies.
“Maybe I don’t like other people looking at what’s mine.” “I’m not yours,” she mumbled. “Say it again, Pet. I dare you.”
“You’re mine down to the very fabric of your being. What I decide to do with you is still up for debate.”
“The sky is supposed to be blue. The night is supposed to be dark. You, Romina… You’re not supposed to be anything. You’re perfect as you are,”
“What do they say?” “Jump,” she mouthed, just barely audible. “Then jump.” I raked my fingers through her hair and wrapped my lips around hers. She pressed into me, clutching my T-shirt in her hands, pulling me even closer. “What if there’s no one to catch me?” she asked with a pained look. “If there’s no one to catch you, that would make me dead.”
“If you’re dead, then I might as well be too.” “How romantic of you.”
I was glad she left. The puppy dog eyes didn’t work on me, but had she stayed another moment, I would have been forced to tell her that I didn’t like her, because like was an emotion for children on the playground. I liked a good cup of coffee. I liked dark and stormy nights. I liked watching Frodo get stabbed by the Nazgûl Lord with the Morgul-knife on Weathertop. Fuck, I even liked it when she called me sir, even if it was to antagonize me. But this girl? That couldn’t be reduced to such a fickle fucking word. I was addicted to her, mesmerized. I was dead fucking obsessed, and undeniably
...more
Like an addict, I went back to him regardless of how much it hurt. Maybe it was because he looked like he was in just as much pain, and somehow, that comforted me.
“Someone else? Let me find some other man between your legs that isn’t one of us, and I’ll deliver you his severed cock myself.”
In their own ways, they’d figured out pieces of me, but none of them had the entire puzzle. I could only reveal parts of myself to each of them. They brought out different sides of me that I didn’t even know existed because I never had the chance to explore them on my own.
They were everywhere, surrounding me, suffocating me like a cloud of poison.
He was gorgeous, irrevocably so in the kind of way that would leave you wounded when he left a room. I couldn’t imagine the type of damage he caused when he left one’s life.
“I want to make you come until you either die from it or my tongue stops working.”
“You call out God’s name one more time while I’m between your legs, even he won’t be able to save you, little lamb.”
I loved her far more than I’d ever be able to love myself. Maybe that was okay, too.
“If you so much as look at another man, you can consider it his death warrant. If another man looks at you, I’ll rip his head off with my bare hands and make you watch. If you let someone who isn’t the three of us touch you? I’ll split them open from throat to dick so slowly, they’ll die three times before their heart finally stops beating. Do you understand?”
She was breathtaking. She was datura, blooming in the pitch black while her vines coiled around us, choking us with her invasion.
“I don’t want Heaven if it’s without you.”
Corvin wanted me to be a knife—relentless, sharp, and concise—but I wasn’t a knife. I was the sheath, worn and weathered from the blade’s constant marring, and I would take it over and over again if it meant the knife would always return to me. Because they were the weapon, and I was built to pardon their pain.
“You’re gonna be the main dish at our spit roast, little lamb.”
I forgot who I was. I was an instrument for receiving pleasure, and they were the demons who’d found me, who pried me open to reveal all my secrets, my fantasies, before I’d even known what they were myself.
