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‘I’m sorry’ is a bullshit condolence. Unworthy of being laid at the feet of someone who’s being consumed by the greedy maw of grief. So instead, I’ll offer up my hope that enough of your tarnished soul survives, so that you may live again.” —Marie Maravilla
Nothing itched quite like dried blood. Well, dried cum was a bitch too.
Most of Tokyo was bright and alive, but if you found the right parts, you’d be greeted with my favorite things: darkness and death.
I’d rather be the villain. A walking nightmare for those who got in my way.
ARE THEY HOT OR ARE THEY JUST ASSHOLES?
Relentless, obsessive, manic.
“Embalming Bitches Services. Fuck us over, and we fuck you up. How can I help you?” Kenji’s overly chipper tone had me pinching the bridge of my nose.
Kenji’s voice was deadly when he spoke again. “Listen, fucker. You really should be careful of who you talk to in that tone.
“Ugh. I hate women’s tears. They always want me to say some comforting shit. How would I know what to say? I cut off people’s tongues when they say shit I don’t like. Why can’t they just be happy with orgasms?”
Kenji was the master of deflection. It was an issue for romantic relationships, but it was a welcomed skill for helping calm me down.
“I’m sending that chick a request for the cost of the Uber.” His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “Hopefully, I picked the right girl…”
“I’m good, thanks. Just waiting for my man,”
“Men. If you’re not sucking their dick, they’ll be a dick,”
And as much as it pained me to admit, the man was gorgeous. Sell your soul to the devil, gorgeous. Caleb’s was too, but I was trying to gaslight myself into thinking he was ugly as fuck.
“Do you have fucking hollow points pointed at my balls?” he asked, irritation dripping from his tone.
“Macushla, you’ve made quite the impression tonight. I’ll remember you, and when I find you, it’ll be my turn to hogtie you, eh? That pretty olive skin of yours will be so fun to mark up. I bet you’ll scream so pretty for me,” he snarled, the green of his eyes now practically black.
“I will find you, macushla.” His voice carried over the sounds of the city. “And when I do, I will wring that pretty throat of yours.”
Julius’s death was my rebirth. The moment I’d shed my old self and embraced the ever-present desire for darkness and violence. Now I didn’t disguise my brokenness. I embodied my sharp edges and fucked-up view on life. Fucking who I wanted and killing who fucked me over. One day, I’d drag my uncle and every Romano to hell with me.
“Fuck you, Enzo. That’s the line you want to go with? That you didn’t have a choice in marrying my cousin while you were dating me?” I stepped into his space, no longer able to contain my rage. “Did you have a choice when you came over and fucked me before leaving the fucking wedding invitation on your pillow for me to find? You didn’t even have the fucking balls to break the news to me.”
“I would’ve taken a bullet for you, Enzo. That’s how much I fucking loved you.
I was a fucked-up version of Cinderella. One who’d never known the love of her father and didn’t get rescued by a fairy godmother or Prince Charming. And if Prince Charming showed up now, I would probably eat him.
“Wow. Good-fucking-morning to you too, sunshine. Glad to see you took some happiness up the ass this morning.”
Los Muertos was invited to your shindig, but who knows if any of those fuckers will come. Sergio usually keeps to himself. I bet his asshole of a son is probably jizzing himself over the invite, though.” Kenji chuckled. “He’s always trying to ride the dick of whoever can get him more power. Fucker dresses like an idiot too.”
WRAP YOUR HAND AROUND MY THROAT, BIG BOY
“No, I didn’t learn anything from barn animals. But my friends on the corner taught me how to deep-throat a champagne bottle. That’s usually my preferred method of drinking bubbly,”
Then there was the hussy in me who wanted to ask if he would speak directly into my pussy with that luscious rumble.
Caleb’s menacing tone cut through the tension. “Name. Now. Unless there’s a reason you haven’t given it,”
10/10 CHANCE HER UNDERWEAR ARE SOAKED
“I’m going to go talk to Miss Romano about the dangers of taking things that don’t belong to her.”
“Oh, shit. I love a good game of chase. Dibs on questioning her. I have so many fun ideas,” Kenji said.
“I want to watch tears streak down your face as I choke you.”
Ten out of ten chance that her underwear was soaked. Now I got the appeal of hate sex.
A crossroads demon in the flesh, and Scarletta was about to sell her soul to the Syndicate.
“You’re my bitch at the moment. Are you not as smart as you look, Scarletta? Because I thought you’d have gotten the picture by now. I own your ass.” The corners of my mouth curled upward at her snarl.
A shudder racked through my body. Excitement was not the correct response to that line of thinking, but the man was a walking sexual awakening of all the things I didn’t know I was into until seeing him. Kenji had a nose ring and a subtle face tattoo on his temple that followed the hairline of his effortlessly messy inky hair. It read Insane and was done in gothic lettering.
What the hell is with these men licking me? And why the fuck do I want it to happen again, maybe just a little farther south…
“You’re real popular around here, aren’t you?” Kenji asked. “I’m the family favorite.” I feigned innocence while flipping off Adriana and Milania.
“My wife, Scarletta Romano, and I are so excited to finally announce our union.”
“Please do. I’ll be sure and yell Niko and Kenji’s names real loud,” I snarled back, savoring how his nostrils flared. “You picked the wrong bitch if you wanted someone submissive, husband.”
“She can wear whatever the fuck she wants. One, because that’s her fucking prerogative, and two, I know my dick is good enough to keep her coming and coming and coming…back to me every time.”
“I’ll find you, Scar.” Her back stiffened. “I see the wheels turning in that pretty little head. You can try to run…hide. But I’ll hunt you down.”
“Get in, principessa,” Caleb bit out. “Oh, look at that. I’ve moved up from Romano bitch,”
“I’ve never had a woman use talk of murder as foreplay, but I like it,” he said, his tongue swiping across his lips.
“Apparently, being kidnapped makes me horny because I’m imagining your tongue buried in my pussy.” I leaned as far forward as my restraints would allow. “Let me out, and let’s play, Kenji.”
“Mrs. Callahan, you were mine the moment I saw you again. And I made sure it was official minutes after I announced it to that room.” He pulled my lobe into his warm mouth, biting down so it was just short of being painful.
“You may not want to fuck me, husband, but if you stick your dick in another bitch, I’ll cut the fuckin’ thing off. Which would be a shame because it feels like it’s a nice mouthful.”
Men should only send vocal jerkoff videos like that. Indecision racked my brain.
“My father forbade any communication with them. If I do, he’ll sell them off.”
“You’ll never go hungry while you’re in my care.”
“I also want to try heroin, but some shit is so toxic it should be avoided no matter how fun it looks,”
