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The things I want to do to my jewel.
I’ve drawn her blood, marked her, whipped her, flogged her, fucked her, and last night…I completely consumed her.
One rose quartz dildo in her ass.
One obsidian phallus in her pussy.
My hard cock in her mouth.
She looked fucking spectacular.
Skewered in three ways.
Teary eyed, body pleading, whimpering, and quivering.
The blackness doesn’t just welcome me anymore, it has become me.
I’m polluted by it.
Defiled by it.
I no longer fear the black because I am the black.
And she is my—
“Oh, I’m so happy to hear you used the gifts I gave you.” Victor reached around the back of the wingback where I sat in the library. His hands landed on my shoulders, giving me a quick massage.
Slamming the laptop closed, I spun in the chair and dislodged his hold. “Do you fucking mind?”
He smirked. “Still not ready to share your manuscript, mon ami?”
“I’ll share when and if I’m ever ready, Vic.”
“Fine. Fine.” He held up his hands and strolled around the library. The soaring shelves of literature wrapped us in paper motes and history. “I’ll let you keep writing your secrets. Just, I’m curious. Tell me, Henri. Tell me what she is…”
“What she is?”
“You said you’ve become the darkness. Which makes me so incredibly happy to hear. I admit you seem far more content these days. But…how do you see her? ‘And she is my…’?” He raised an eyebrow. “What were you going to write before I stupidly interrupted?”
Placing the laptop onto the side table complete with a figurine of a hedgehog, I shrugged. “Guess you’ll never know. That’s the price you pay for reading over my shoulder.”
“Spoilsport.” He chuckled and ran his fingers along one of the dust-free shelves.
My heart kicked as I flicked a look at a section of books where I’d planted one of Rachel’s and Mollie’s presents in the limited-edition shadows last month.
I hadn’t wanted to do it.
Frankly, I thought they were still wasting their time and playing with fire (literally), but…I was all in on our war, and if they wanted me to help plant useless bottles with homemade wicks and dodgy chemistry, I wouldn’t argue.
As long as I kept distracting Victor and gave him no reason to look at the security feed, they would go unnoticed. Even if the bombs didn’t go off, we could use the substances to splash over the carpets and curtains, adding fuel to the fires I intended to set on D-day.
“Do you celebrate Halloween, Henri?” Victor finally stopped pacing and faced me.
“Never. Why?”
“I’m hosting a soiree that night. Only intimate, of course. Nothing too grand. A few of my favourite guests is all. Luckily, events off my island detain many of my friends with their own families, and each year I host a special ceremony for the trusted few I actually like.”
“Sounds fun.” I smirked, ignoring the warning prickles down my spine.
