She gasps as I press my thumb against her clit, grinding it into the swollen nub until she’s trembling.
“You, Kaden,” she breathes. “It’s always been you.” I growl at her admission, removing my fingers to drop my pants.
“Good girl,” I growl, biting her neck.
I slam inside her with so much force that she loses her breath.
“You look so fucking hot covered in blood, baby.” She whimpers as I relentlessly pound into her. It doesn’t take long before she’s panting and I can feel her walls clenching around me.
“Don’t you dare come until I let you,” I say as my fingers dig deeper into her hips, pulling them back to me in time with my thrusts.
Wynter moans as her head falls back on my chest. Seeing her blood covered face sends a chill down my spine and I can feel myself about to explode.
“Please,” she begs, her voice barely above a whisper and it’s like music to my ears.
“Please what, baby?” I smirk.
“Please let me come,” she moans, her body writhing beneath me.
“Not yet,” I say firmly. I increase my pace, my fingers moving faster over Wynter’s clit. She’s panting now, her body trembling with pleasure.
“Now!” I slam once more, emptying every ounce of my seed into her hot cunt. She screams as her orgasm rockets through her body. I could watch her like this all day. Blissed out and happy. That’s what she deserves. She shivers in my arms and I reluctantly slide from her wet heat to pull her pants up.
“You better clench that pussy until we get home. I don’t want a drop leaking out or else…” I let the warning ring through the air. I fix my pants then spin her in my arms.
My lips crash down on hers like a man possessed, and maybe I am. There’s not a damn thing I wouldn’t do for her. If she wanted to burn the world, I’d hand her the match. She may have been as pure as snow but now she’s as black as coal. I rescued her from herself, watching as she blossomed into the most extraordinary creature to ever grace this planet.
My sweetest obsession.
My deadliest desire.
Fifty
Wynter
Thedrivebacktothe mansion is silent, but it’s a different kind of silence than before. It’s not the tense, anticipatory quiet of vengeance, but the heavy, echoing stillnessof its aftermath. My body is still thrumming, a strange mix of residual adrenaline and the fading echoes of Kaden’s brutal pleasure. The blood on my skin has begun to dry, a macabre second skin that feels both alien and utterly, terrifyingly right.
Kaden drives with one hand on the wheel, the other gripping my thigh, his thumb rubbing slow, possessive circles. He glances at me, his eyes dark and unreadable, but there’s a flicker of something new there. A deep, almost reverent satisfaction. He saw me, truly saw me, in that warehouse. And he loved what he saw.
When we get back, he leads me straight to our suite. He doesn’t speak, just guides me into the shower. The hot water streams over my skin, washing away the last traces of Evilin’s blood, but not the memory. I scrub until my skin is raw, trying to cleanse not just the physical grime, but the lingering taste of death. Kaden watches, his gaze intense, a silent witness to my purification.
Afterward, wrapped in a thick towel, I collapse onto the bed. The exhaustion hits me like a physical blow. The last few days, the poisoning, the fear, the vengeance—it all culminates in a profound, bone-deep weariness. I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep, the first truly peaceful rest I’ve had since Evilin’s attack.
I wake to the scent of coffee and the soft murmur of Kaden’s voice. He’s on a call, pacing the room, his back to me. The sun is high, streaming through the windows, painting the room in warm gold. I feel… lighter. Emptier, in a way that is both terrifying and liberating. The hatred that fueled me for so long is gone, replaced by a vast, open space.What will fill it?
I push myself up, my stomach doing a strange flip. It’s not nausea, not exactly, but a peculiar sensation. A fluttering, like butterflies trapped in my gut. I dismiss it as hunger.
Kaden ends his call and turns, his eyes immediately finding mine. A slow, possessive smile spreads across his face. He walksover and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face.
"How are you feeling, Snowflake?" he asks, his voice soft, almost tender.
"Empty," I admit, the word surprising even myself. "But… free."
He nods, understanding. "Good. That's what I wanted for you."
He leans in, kissing me deeply, tasting of coffee and something else… victory. His hand slides to my stomach, resting there, warm and heavy.
"I have another surprise for you," he murmurs against my lips, his eyes sparkling with a new kind of excitement.
