He turns and starts to walk away as I wince.
“But make no mistake, Evelina, me leaving right now isnotyou saying your safe word. And until you do,” he pause at the edge of the stage and turns, leveling a scorching look at me. “You remain. Fucking.Mine.”
33
DEMON
The world isa kaleidoscope of black, white, and blood red as we stagger down the hallway. Fire and venom course through our veins, our jaw grinding so tight our teeth hurt.
We slap our face with our hand, sending pain and more fractals of light sparking through our vision.
We do it again and again, just like he taught us.
Pain is a center. Pain is an anchor.
Focus.
Stop spiraling, weakling.
STOP FUCKING THINKING ABOUT HER.
With a roar, we kick open the door to the observatory and stumble inside. We grip the windowsill tightly and press our face to the cool glass. Our fragmented gaze takes in the mountains and the forest below, desperate to focus on anything that isn’ther.
She wasn’t supposed todo thisto us.
We’re stronger than her storm.
We ARE the motherfucking storm.
We kissed her.
Yes…and she kissed us back.
For brief fraction of a moment, we have clarity. For a flash of a second, there’s almost even a smile on our face, and warmth in our heart.
We want so much more of her lips. Not just the way we’ve had them thus far—moaning for us, squealing in pain and pleasure, or wrapped drooling around our cock as we fuck her slutty little throat.
We still want all those things, of course. But we want more.
And there might not be any going back now.
“You’re losing control.”
Our eyes squeeze shut, our breath knotting in our chest as his voice rumbles behind us.
Within us?
“Again,” Quentin adds.
No, we’re quite sure he's behind us. We turn, and our eyes lock on the man dressed in black, leaning heavily on his ebony cane.
“Talk to me, Grandson.”
I, not we.
I, not we.
We repeat the mantra to ourselves silently before we take a breath.
