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The orgasm builds. I tip my head back, staring at the dark ceiling, trying to make this last longer. But it’s no use. It’s too late.

“Ugh…fuck,” I growl as the first shot of come flies and lands between her tits.

I fuck faster, slamming my cock through the tight hole of her hand.

“Fuck me.”

More lands on her chest, puddling on her neck. The next shot hits her chin, and I bite my lip when it runs down her face. My sweet Emily is a complete mess before I finally take a deep breath and release her hand.

I wipe the tip of my cock and smear it on her lips. She licks it off, and I want to see and do more, but I’ve already stayed too long. I collect the line off her chin and spread more on her perfect lips. She moans but leaves it there like I’ve applied lip gloss.

Stuffing my dick back into my jeans, I swipe the knife off the nightstand and make a tiny cut in the tip of my finger. I press the droplet of blood to her mouth, and her tongue flicks out to capture it. Then it’s my turn. I make a small slash along the closest breast before leaning over and lapping at the gash until it stops bleeding.

Pulling my mask back down, I slip the knife into its sheath and put my gloves on before leaning close to her ear.

“You’re mine now, Little Liability. We signed in blood.”

With one last look, I head out of her room and quietly slink down the stairs into her shop. The fragrance of flowers hits me when I open the door and walk straight to her desk. Grabbing an envelope, I write her name and use her confidential stamp to mark it. I quickly scribble a note, add it and the platinum credit card to the envelope, and leave it on her desk.

Then I retrace my steps, locking each door on my way. I pull off my mask once I’m outside and suck in a deep, satisfied breath.

Your move, Emily. But no matter what you may think…you are mine.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EMILY

My eyes flutter open, and I lick my lips. My nightshirt still hangs open, showing streaks of dried come. Jumping up, I spin in a circle, dancing as excitement floods my body.

“Yes,” I squeal and rush to the mirror to look. It’s all still there. It wasn’t some elaborate sex dream. Turning, I smirk at the sight of the small cut on my breast. He marked me. He really marked me.

“Yes!”

Grabbing the remote on my nightstand, I turn on my sound system. How Deep Is Your Love by the Bee Gees blares through the speakers. I run and leap onto the bed, singing at the top of my lungs.

“We belong to you and me.”

My hips sway back and forth as I recall every second. For twelve painstakingly long years I’ve laid the groundwork for this moment.

I’ve known since the night he saved my life and avenged what happened to me…we are destined to be together.

My mother’s nails bite into my skin as she drags me across our tiny apartment.

“Ow, you’re hurting me,” I say, jerking my arm.

Her eyes are wide, pupils large as one long nail points at my face.

“I told you to wear something sexy. What the hell is this?”

I look down and see nothing wrong with the little summer dress I found at the secondhand store. It took me hours of rummaging to find something that didn’t smell like an old person and fit. It is the nicest one they have and cost a whole twenty dollars. All the money I’ve saved.

“It’s pretty,” I argue, still confused. What mother wants their fifteen-year-old looking sexy? It makes no sense.

“Unbelievable. Well, it will have to do,” she snarls. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

She pushes me out the door like I’m an ill-behaved dog.

“Mom, what is going on?”