She jumps up and wraps her legs around my waist. “Less talking, more touching.” I smile against her, ready to give her exactly what she’s asking for.
“Beg for it.”
She grinds against me, chasing her release. I wrap my hand around her throat, cutting off—most of—her airway. But thatdoesn’t deter her. No, it only encourages her to go faster. Taking a few steps forward, I step over the corpse before pressing her back into the wall. I take both her arms, and pin them above her head, and watch as she tries to get closer with every inch I pull away.
“My rules.”
“Fuck your rules.”
“That’s rule number nine,” I state without missing a beat. She attempts to break my resolve, rubbing herself against my cock that’s raging beneath its captivity. I ignore her advance and instead focus on where I want my shadows to land. Her breath hitches in her throat once it makes contact with her stomach, skillfully maneuvering beneath her top.
“What is your safe word?”
“My—my what?” she stammers, throwing her head back as my shadows circle her hardened nipple.
“Safe. Word,” I punctuate as I quickly lean down and bite her nipple through her shirt.
“I don’t—” She exhales deeply. “I don’t need a safe word.”
I laugh at her naivety. “Fine. Have it your way.” I lean in close, letting the warmth of my breath skate over her lips. “But remember, I warned you.”
Gripping her bound wrists tighter, I swiftly spin around, coaxing a yelp from her pretty throat before slamming her against the ground. Instantly, her hair gets coated in the black blood pooling on the ground beside the corpse.
“This is fucking foul,” she says with disgust.
Shadows wrap around her throat, silencing her. “No talking.” Her legs stay wrapped around me, not allowing me to rise fully. My fingers dance over her leg, making their way up to the dagger she holds close. But the moment my palm wraps around the hilt, it burns me. Instinctively, I rip my hand back, and a coy smile plays on her lips. “It kind of has a mind of its own,” she admits.
And now I’m even more intrigued than before. My eyebrow raises. “Interesting.” But I don’t need her dagger to start what I have planned. There are plenty of tools at my disposal right in this room. Barely thinking, one of my shadows stretches out to the table against the adjacent wall, opens up the drawer, and brings me a scalpel I placed there some time ago.
Something takes over as the cold metal bites against my palm, transporting me back in time. The blade cuts like butter, cutting a straight line down the center of her shirt. The two sections fall to her sides, exposing everything underneath.
Her bare chest heaves. “Don’t act surprised. They fit me like a glove.” She’s not wrong. There was only one set that belonged to my mother. The rest were made specifically for her. No other support necessary. “But now you owe me another one.”
“Add it to the list of shit I have to make up for.” The comment catches me off guard. What the fuck is happening to me? I shake it off and focus on the restless Kallie wiggling underneath me. I press the blade against her flesh, starting at her sternum and dragging it down just above her navel.
She hisses beneath clenched teeth, arching her back at the pain, but I take her up on the offering. Bending down, my tongue dips into her navel before traveling up, licking the beads of blood before her body can stitch itself back up. It happens quicker than I remember, nearly closing up before I’ve had my fix.
I hum with pleasure. “Divine.” The scent of her pleasure filters through the air, her hips driving harder into me as I make a second cut. And a third. If it wasn’t for her miraculous healing capabilities, she would be wearing scars of the wounds I’ve inflicted. The image causes my cock to pulse against her heat.
“Callum—” My hand instantly grips her throat. Hard. More punishing than I intended. Her eyes bulge from the sudden change.
“Only speak if spoken to.” She just stares at me, eyes fullof concern. “Nod if you understand.” She contemplates for a moment before doing as she was told. “Good girl.” I release her, moving my hand just a few inches to the left, and dip my fingertips into the liquid currently soaking her hair.
Was it out of mercy? Or out of the intoxicating feeling of holding another’s life in her hands?
Pitch-black liquid drips down my fingers as I hold it up for her to see against the torch light. I swipe each finger over her body, loving the way her body reacts to either my touch or the blood of the monster she just killed. The lines aren’t perfect, but they curve over her hips and brush beneath her breasts, going around the cuts I continue to make with the other.
I stare down at her, loving the way her body subtly shifts beneath my gaze. “You look so fucking delicious.” Then I obliterate the artwork I just created, smearing my face with the blood of the Demicrogen, licking up its blood and hers all in one swipe. She moans as my shadows slowly unbutton her pants, but it’s taking far too much time. I swipe the scalpel down each of her thighs, the sudden change causing her to drop them from my waist. I continue the removal, gliding the blade down each pant leg, uncaring if it cuts too deep, because I’ll make sure to get every last drop.
The fabric falls to the wayside, acting like a barrier from the carnage beneath her. She reaches down, her hand getting covered in blood as she reaches for her dagger. It pulses with a subtle light right before her fingers grip the hilt.
“I think you’ve had your fun,” she says with a playful grin.
“Not even close.” Before I can restrain her again, she swipes her blade down my forearm. I bite the inside of my cheek, relishing in the pain she causes. An ember sparks to the side of her, so small and subtle I almost miss it. But then it lights again, bigger and brighter, turning into a single line that trails from the side of her head to my leg.
I raise an eyebrow. “Watch yourself.”
“Do you know what happens when you play with fire?” she asks, bypassing my statement. “You get burned.” The flame catches my pant leg, and the urge to swat it away is strong, but I refrain. Instead, I lean into it, letting the heat burn my flesh so I can also wear whatever wounds she chooses to inflict.
