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And when he screams and his eyes fill with terror, all I do is laugh, twisting the blade deeper and deeper until he passes out.
But I wake him up and start the nightmare all over again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
ADRIEL
My bloody littleprincess holds the knife as she stares at her kill. She’s glorious, her eyes shining, her grin deepening. I gave her that.
My queen.
My world.
I am but her servant. I’d do anything to make her look this happy.
She turns to me, and something in her eyes calls to my depravity. I start to slip off my mask, intending to drop it beside hers on the floor, but she shakes her head.
“Keep it on.” Her chest rises as she struts closer while my cock grows hard at the sensuality flitting through her features.
I crook a finger, beckoning her to me. “Strip.”
I lower myself onto the black leather sofa, waiting forher to start.
She doesn’t hesitate. Dropping the knife, she tugs up on the hem of her t-shirt, exposing her perfect tits before she throws the blood-soaked cotton on the floor. She continues to remove her pants and then her panties until she’s bare and bloody, her crimson fingers drawing up her abdomen.
She kneels and gathers the knife back in her palm before she starts for me. But when I shake a finger, she pauses, her mouth curling, bottom lip tucked behind her teeth.
“Crawl to me and keep the knife.”
Her brow arches, right before she falls to her knees, crawling slowly, her eyes trapped with mine.
My cock grows harder the closer she gets. I grab a fistful, stroking myself through my sweats, hissing when she stares up at me from between my thighs.
“Now what?” She’s all doe-eyed, innocence and danger tucked within her gaze.
“Take it out…” I lift my shirt off and toss it.
She stares at my chest, a tattoo of a crow sitting on top of a headstone with the letters RIP on it. A grave to myself. Because I’ve always been dead inside, and I wanted to honor that. But now, with her, I’m not so sure.
Her soft fingertips skate across my abdomen as she slowly brings my sweats down and reveals my cock.
With her hunger smoldering, she closes her palm around my length, her fingers barely able to connect, and she moves it up and down.
“Fuuuuck,” I grit, my hand sinking into the back of her head, wrapping all that silky hair around my knuckles. I yank her head back. “I can’t stand the thought of you not in my life, Kayla.”
“I’m right here…” She pushes her mouth toward the head of my dick, her tongue swirling around it until I mutter a curse and jerk my hips.
“This feels too fucking good,” I groan.
“I think this will feel a lot better…” Then her mouth is sucking me hard.
I push her deeper until she gags, until she takes every painstaking inch of me.
She works me like a pro, and I hate that it’s because she’s done this unwillingly. Been hurt and used. The fucking thought puts me into a homicidal state.
But I refuse to ruin this. She doesn’t deserve for them to destroy what we share.
With me, with us, it’ll always be different. Because I’d never hurt her, and I’ll kill anyone who tries.
