“You did before!” Vi shrieked, those sad tears turning into fury. “When you hurt me in the motel, he did that fucking first. Biting me, letting me take your clothes off. That was all him.”
“What the fuck?” I stepped away, fighting the nausea in my gut. I couldn’t even figure out what she meant. My head pounded, so fucking confused. “What the fuck do you mean?”
She looked rageful, desperate, but resigned in that moment, her jaw tight as she studied my face. “I didn’t plan it,” she started. “But when it… when I… when he trickled in a little, but then it was you. You there. Doing the same, or kind of the same. It… it worked. It helped.”
“No.”
She lunged for the blade again. “It helped!” she shrieked. “Theo, please. It helped. I don’t know what fucked-up psychological shit it was, but it worked.”
Her words made me wince again, so harsh and bitter, so much crasser than she usually spoke. I didn’t understand it, and for the first time I didn’t understand her. But she was right; it had worked before. How serene she’d looked after. Falling into that deep sleep, snuggled against me, content. She’s looked content. I wanted to give her that, I did.
Still, she battled with me, and I fought back, keeping my hand out of reach of hers, the blade out of her grasp. She scrambled to reach me, desperation in her eyes. Fuck, I didn’t want to. Before had been minor, little love nibbles, really. Now she was asking me to cut her, bleed her? Like him. Like her monster. How could she ask that of me?
She tried to scramble up my body, and I stepped away from the sink, wanting to shout, to push her back, but fuck. It was hard to refuse her. To deny her anything, even if I hated it. My blood raced around in my ears, muffling, making my heart beat loud and intrusive. I just wanted it all to stop.
I knew where this was going.
Violet watched me with wide, desperate eyes, pressure building between us. I could never refuse her.
“I’ll do it,” I said, watching her slump in relief, relax, her chest heaving and her gaze hard, but her arms down. “But you’ve got to let me do it my way.”
The mania in her dissipating with every second she took me in, our gazes locked. God, I loved her. In all the dirty ways I shouldn’t, in the deepest fucking pit of me. She dropped her hand and nodded. “Thank you, Theo.” She said it as if she were surprised I hadn’t agreed in the first place, as if this was always happening. And she was right. It was.
My jaw tense, muscles clenching, I told her to follow me and led her to the bedroom. “Take the rest of my clothes off. Then yours.”
Her mouth fell open for a second, a myriad of thoughts flashing through her eyes before she stepped a little closer, her hands coming to my boxers.
I refused to cut her, and she agreed after another fight. The razor blade was thrown in the bin before I consented to doing anything. Fuck that.
She kissed me, yanked me from the bathroom and walked me towards the bed, taking control of the situation while I gave myself a second to catch up, still half-stuck in waking her up, in watching her slice into her skin. I was happy to let her tug me along, to see where the mood took her, to be present for whatever ride she wanted as long as I had my say too.
With a twist and a shove, she pushed me down onto the bed, my ass thumping onto the mattress with a bounce. I wanted to smirk, a glint of lightness coming in through the dark.
“Wait here,” she said before darting away. I watched her legs fly across the carpeted floor and allowed my mouth to tip up. I was a little uncomfortable, but that was fast fading. She was excited about what she had planned, and who was I to turn that down? I’d made that silent vow to myself on her wedding night to be whoever she needed. And that didn’t stop here.
Violet returned with my belt in her hands, running it through her fingers as she crossed the room.
“What are we going to do with that?” I asked, angling my head and slouching back.
She bit her lip and glanced down at the leather against her palm. For a second, her eyes flashed dark, but she shook it away. Again, I wanted to stop everything, to curl her up into my arms and rock her until she fell asleep and lost herself. But when our eyes locked, hers looked determined. My cock woke up, paying attention to the way her body moved.
“Whip me,” she murmured, flinching. “Hit me with this until my skin welts and bleeds. You won’t directly cut me, maybe this…”
My head shook without even realizing. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I repeated, already fighting against what I’d agreed. Everything in me told me no, even if my mouth had said yes. “Please, baby, I don’t think I can.”
She placed the belt on my lap and took a step back, tugging the last of her clothing away, revealing her gorgeous body to me in its entirety. So fucking stunning, soft and pillowy, slices across her skin, healing wounds. Heavy tits… fuck.
“You’re so perfect, beautiful. I can’t do it.”
She frowned, but didn’t look angry, just contemplative. “Can you just touch me?” she asked. “Make me feel good?”
I shook my head. “I have a better idea,” I said. “Well, kind of.”
I stood up, holding the belt, and took the few steps to reach her, not stopping until our toes touched and she had to strain her head up to see me.
“What is it?” she questioned as I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and cupped her chin, cradling her face. She was so goddamn beautiful it was hard to believe sometimes, hard to trust that we were truly in this together. That we were born of the same fucked-up family, from the same hateful womb.
I handed her the belt and moved away again, missing the warmth of her aura already. My cock bounced as I stepped back, thick and eager, excited by the idea of what I was about to suggest. My blood hummed with what I could give her.
