Penelope Hart is everything to me.
Her insides to her outsides, every drop of blood, strand of hair. And as I eye up that pretty little patch of skin on the left hand side of her chest, above her heart, below the protrusion of her collarbone, I know my number will look good there. Perfect.
Her jaw works minutely as she, too, stares back at me. Those deep, dark brown eyes ringed in black taking me in, my white button-up shirt, fitted black slacks, large gold watch, and shined shoes.
Neither one of us moves.
My fingers tighten over the rim of my glass.
“You look beautiful, Nellie,” I tell her finally, the huge room an echo of silence only interrupted by the deep timbre of my voice. “Come here,” I instruct her, fisting my free hand over the arm of the chair, fingertips biting into the steel-grey fabric.
Penelope doesn’t hesitate, gliding across the space and stopping just before my spread knees. Elegant, this murderous little creature moves like an innocent little fairy, she smiles like one too. Her right cheek dimples as her plump lips curl, but she’s shy, nervous.
You know I’m a liar, huh, baby girl?
“Sit,” I order, my eyes flicked up on hers, holding her gaze captive.
I’m going to have to share her attention tonight, and it makes me want to pout, to stab and slice and hack. But that’s how these things go.
I’ve never cared before, about the others standing over me just like this. Tears in their eyes, nothing but fear in their hearts. Because they knew I didn’t want them. Never could want them.
They weren’t right.
Didn’t fit.
Weren’ther.
Not my Penelope.
So I’ll do it because we have to, for survival, for love, but I’m not happy about it.
I want her to be only for me.
The Obsidian doesn’t work like that, though.
With their rituals and sacrifice.
That’s what this is, just another sacrifice.
When will I have bled enough?
Nellie slides onto my right thigh, side on to me, her left hand coming up to my face, curling over my cheek. I can’t take my eyes off of her. It feels too surreal. To finally have her here. In the space I created just for her.
“You look beautiful, too, Billy,” she says lowly, her eyes flicking to my mouth at the same time her thumb traces across my top lip. “You always were so pretty,” she tells me, still stroking my mouth, staring at her thumb as it rolls over my lip. “Your hair,” she sighs, pushing her slim fingers up the side of my face, into the knotting, upright curls. “Your eyes,” she breathes, fisting her fingers in my roots and suddenly yanking my head back. “But mostly,” she dips her face into mine, my throat arched, head tipped, and I let her do it as she hovers her fuckable lips over mine. “It was your lying fucking mouth that I liked the most.”
My heart bangs in my chest, harder and harder, as my cock kicks in the confines of my slacks because,fuck, I love it when she gets like this. A little unhinged, a little bit scary, feral. Watching her soft smile transform into something dark and manic.
It’s beautiful.
She’sbeautiful.
“All of those pretty little lies you told me when you were a boy,” she whispers, still grinning, still putting so much pressure on my trachea it feels like it might snap, and I could stop her if I wanted to, but I don’t. “You’re still fucking telling them.”
She releases my hair, throws herself out of my lap. I let her take one, two, three steps away from me, and then I’m leaping out of the chair, launching my half-full glass at the wall.
I don’t look as it shatters, liquid running down the wallpaper, glass splinters raining down with it, scattering over the hardwood. She flinches, her head snapping to the side to see it, but I don’t take my eyes off the back of her head, her back to me, spine exposed in the low scoop of her dress, the fabric strangling her shape, as I collide with her.
Rushing her forwards until her body slams into the wall beside the open bedroom doors, my hand over the front of herface, cupping it in my palm, protecting her from impact. But just as quickly as we hit the surface of the wall, my front plastering to her back, pinning her, both of our chests heaving with breath. All of the fight falls out of her.
