Page 3 of Devour

“Shut the fuck up.” I keep my voice calm even though I’m ready to rip his goddamn head from his body.

Saylor turns around, standing up from the desk. She barely comes up to my chest without heels. Those hips beg me to grip them and show her what a good fuck is supposed to feel like. Her bleached-blonde hair is tangled, and her cheeks are flushed.

She sees me in the doorway. She grins and grabs the edge of the desk with both hands, staring at me with those green eyes. Her chin tips up like she’s ready to argue.

All I want to do is shove my dick in her mouth and fuck away whatever it is she might have to fucking say about this shit.

Priest is right behind me. I hear him snicker from the doorway. He knows what’s about to go down.

“Close the door,” I tell him.

He steps inside and does as I said, locking it behind him.

Dylan is against the wall now, fumbling with his pants, trying to tuck his pathetic dick back in. His hands are shaking so hard he can’t work his zipper. “Look, I don’t know why you’re here, but we were just—”

I cross the room and pin him to the wall by his throat. His feet come off the ground by three inches. His face goes from white to red.

“I know exactly who you are, Dylan.” I keep my voice low enough that he has to stop whining like a bitch to hear me. “I know about the girls who wake up naked in your apartment and can’t remember how they got there. And that isn’t even the worst fucking thing you’ve done. That’s not what’s going to get you killed.”

His eyes are bulging. He’s clawing at my wrist with both hands. It does nothing. His five-foot-eleven frame is no match for my six-foot-five one. The fucker should have been dealt with a long time ago, and I’m not letting him go this time.

“You just put your pathetic dick inside the wrong woman. You touched my girl, and now you’re my fucking problem.”

He opens his mouth. I don’t know what he’s going to say, and I don’t give a fuck. His body starts trembling, and his khakis go dark at the crotch. Piss runs down his leg and drips onto the toe of my boot.

I look down at it, then back up at him. I haven’t even done anything yet.

“Did you just piss on my fucking boot?”

He’s crying now. He’s all snot and tears and piss, making him the full dipshit package.

Priest chuckles behind me. “God, what a fucking pussy.”

I drop the asshole. I don’t mind humiliating him a bit, so my girl can see that she’s done with losers like this one. He crumples to the floor, gasping, hands at his throat. I crouch down in front of him and grip his jaw so hard the fucker whines again.

“Lick it off.”

He stares at me. He doesn’t think I’m serious. That’s the last mistake he’s going to make. He won’t live long enough to make another.

“I said to lick. It. Off.” I shove his face down toward my boot. “Every fucking drop. Show my girl here what a sniveling cunt you really are.”

He does it. He’s on his hands and knees with his tongue on the leather while his own piss soaks through the knees of his khakis. I keep my hand on the back of his neck.

I look over at Saylor. She’s pulling up her thong and smoothing her skirt down. “This is the kind of asshole you go for, little heathen? One that pisses himself and cries like a little bitch?”

She folds her arms across her body, making me want to run my tongue between her tits that are now pushed together. She’s every bit a sexy little heathen. I gave her that nickname after the first time I killed for her. She had been partying and let some prick try to fuck her against a wall at Velum while she was high. He didn’t get to finish either.

When I get bored with humiliating this dumb fuck, I pull him up by the hair and stand him against the wall. He’s sobbing. His chin is wet. He’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen some shit in the name of the Ravens.

I glance at Priest. He’s leaning against the door with his arms crossed and an amused grin. He gives me the smallest nod. He knew what was going to happen the moment I entered this room.

I look back at Dylan. He’s trying to form some sort of apologetic words. It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing that he could say that would make me show him a hint of mercy for touching my girl. He’ll be another example to the fucking world not to touch what’s mine.

I put both hands on either side of his head. His eyes go wide, and I think he understands what’s about to happen. His mouth opens to give me some kind of pathetic plea.

I snap his neck—clean and fast. The sound is a short, hard crack that bounces off the office walls, and then it’s quiet.

I let his body drop to the floor and then step over it, focusing on my girl now. I’d have preferred to torture the bastard, but this isn’t the place to make that kind of mess.