She freezes for a heartbeat, then whispers, “Do it.”
The cool metal of the blade kisses her skin as I trace it lightly over the curve where her shoulder meets her neck. I’m unraveling, consumed by a hunger I’ve never felt before. My cock is buried deep inside her, but it isn’t enough. I need more, need to mark her, claim her in ways that will never fade.
“You want this?” I press just enough to dimple her skin without breaking it.
“Yes,” she pants, fingers gripping the edge of the table. “Make me bleed for you.”
I draw the blade across her shoulder in one swift motion, shallow enough to leave only a thin crimson line. Her body bucks beneath me, a moan tearing from her throat as her pussy clenches around my cock.
“Fuck,” I growl, watching the blood bead along the cut.
I lean forward, my chest against her back, and drag my tongue along the wound. The metallic tang of her blood explodes across my senses. My hips snap forward involuntarily, driving deeper.
“You taste fucking incredible,” I groan against her skin. “Better than any kill. Sweeter.”
Her breathing hitches as I continue thrusting, the knife still held firmly in my right hand. I make another small cut at the top of her spine, lapping at the blood while she writhes beneath me.
“Gabe,” she gasps, turning her head to meet my eyes. What I see there isn’t fear—it’s hunger that matches my own. “Carve your initials on me. Make me yours.”
The words trigger a primal response I can’t control. My hand is steady as I press the tip of the blade against the smooth skin of her left shoulder blade.
“Hold still,” I command, voice barely recognizable.
I carve aGinto her flesh, not deep but clear enough to leave a permanent mark. Blood trickles down her back as I follow withDbelow it.
Amelia screams—not in pain but ecstasy. Her body shudders violently around my cock as she comes, her orgasm squeezing me so tightly I lose all control. I thrust savagely, emptying myself deep inside her with a roar that tears from my chest.
“Mine,” I growl through clenched teeth, pulsing inside her. “Fucking mine.”
27
AMELIA
My body is a map of delicious ache and soreness as I wake. The throbbing pulse in my shoulder draws my attention first—where Gabe carved his initials into my skin. My initials now. His mark. I touch it gingerly, feeling the raised edges of scabbing cuts, and a twisted thrill runs through me.
What kind of woman asks a man to cut his name into her flesh? The same kind who gets wet thinking about watching a predatory gallery owner bleed out, apparently.
Gabe’s arm tightens around my waist as I shift, pulling me back against his hard chest. The rigid length of his erection presses against my backside, and despite the soreness between my legs, heat floods my core again.
“Morning,” he murmurs, lips against my neck.
I shouldn’t feel this. Shouldn’t want this. He drugged me and brought me here against my will. He’s a killer who preserves his victims like grotesque sculptures. Everything I know about psychology, about self-preservation, screams that I should be plotting my escape, not melting into his touch.
Yet when his hand slides up to cup my breast, my nipple hardens instantly.
“Is your shoulder okay?” His fingers trace along the cuts he made.
“It hurts,” I whisper. “But I like it.”
I’m not just accepting the darkness anymore; I’m embracing it. I see the beauty in his work—the composition, the intention, the meaning behind each preserved body. And now I’m becoming part of his collection in a different way, marked permanently as his.
“I’ve never carved my initials into anyone before,” he confesses, thumb brushing over the wound. “I’ve not even cut someone I wanted to keep alive.”
I turn to face him, wincing as my shoulder protests. “Is that what I am? Someone you want to keep alive?”
His eyes—those intense eyes that see everything—hold mine. “You’re the only one I couldn’t bear to lose.”
His words pierce something deep inside me. I reach up, fingers tracing the stubble along his jaw, the sharp lines of his cheekbones. The face of a killer. The face of a man who sees me—truly sees me—in ways no one else ever has.
