The devil pulled back, his lips tipping into a dark smirk that stretched the scar on his face. “Are you really so impatient to be devoured, little lamb?”
Every sinew in my belly strung tight at his words. “Don’t tell a girl you’re going to eat her soul if you’re not going to follow through, you fucking tease.”
His eyes flashed, then his hand was on my throat, squeezing just enough to leave me gasping against the collar of his tatted hand.
“You think this is a game, Lore? I’m not like you. I’m a devil. Days ago, I was going to sacrifice your soul to my ancestor, just to get him off my fucking back. Now I’ve decided to keep it for myself.”
The hunger in his voice sent a rush of heat through my core. I squirmed, vainly trying to escape. He laughed.
“There’s no getting away from me. You had your chance. Now it’s too late.” He leaned down, his breath a hot caress over my lips. “Now you’re mine. And I’ll do anything to keep it that way. Even if it means claiming you as my own sacrifice to keep you from the Jersey Devil’s clutches.”
“Titus…I don’t want to escape you. I should, but I don’t.” My words were strangled, laced with pleasure and pain. “You’re saving me.”
“Savingyou?” he growled.
There was a glint of silver and a flash of red. He brandished a knife seemingly from nowhere. It was the same one he’d used to slay his father, still dripping with his blood. He brought the weapon to his mouth and ran his tongue over the flat of the blade, licking up every last trace of blood.
His hand dropped from my throat and was replaced with the knife’s point.
“Make no fucking mistake, little lamb. I’m not saving you. Either they capture you and the Elder One eats you…or I do. Either way, you’re screwed.”
I swallowed, the blade nicking my skin at the twitch of my throat. Titus’s mismatched eyes turned wolfish as they tracked the bead of blood pooling in the hollow of my throat.
This man was more than just my stepbrother. He was a lethal monster, and he was starving. Not just for my body, or even my soul. Titus Leeds was starving for love and acceptance.
Because he’d never gotten it from his father, just like I’d never gotten it from my mom.
Maybe that’s what made us so ravenous for one another. We were desperate to suck, fuck and take whatever we could to fill our shriveled black hearts.
I pushed onto my toes, ignoring the blade, and licked his lips until they parted on a low growl. “We’re both damned, Titus. And if we’re destined for Hell, we might as well enjoy the fall.”
Chapter Two
Titus
Thetasteofmynew little sister on my lips did dark things to me. My darkest, most primal urges hungered for her in ways I’d never experienced before.
I needed to own every drop of her. Her blood. Her tears. I wanted to be the one to make her bleed and weep, just so I could be the one to stitch her wounds and dry her tears.
I didn’t just crave Lorelei Brooks, I loved her. And the thought of losing her to the same fucked-up cult that had taken my mother terrified me to my marrow.
In the few days I’d known her, she’d become my drug. My reason for living.
I needed her like I needed air in my lungs.
I hadn’t been exaggerating when I told Lore that I intended to own every bit of her. My obsession for this annoying little human was getting out of hand. For three long years, all I’d cared about was giving my father the death he deserved.
I’d lost count of the nights I’d laid in bed, plotting my revenge. The fantasies had been disturbing, and highly detailed. Skinning him. Cutting off his body parts slowly, cooking him and making him eat his own organs as his hacked-up system fought to survive using the nutrients of his own body.
In the end, all he’d gotten were a few stabs to the chest.
That would have pissed me off to no end just a week ago. But now? I didn’t care. It stopped being about retribution the day my offering crashed into my chest with her moving box filled with monster smut and sex toys.
My hatred for my father had been a disease, and Lorelei was my cure. Now it was time to save her from these godforsaken woods.
Too bad there was no one to save her from me.
I threw the knife to the ground and ran my thumb over the tiny slash on her throat.
