“She screamed, you know,” he murmured, voice dripping with something reverent. “Elodie was her name, right?” he chuckled, darkly, the sound vibrating against me as my pussy clenched around his length. “Yeah, I made sure she did. She had tested my patience for a long time, you see. So that night, I wasn’t having it.”
A shiver raced my spine, but it wasn’t fear that tightened around my ribs. It wasn’t revulsion that sent a pulse of heat between my thighs.
“She begged.” He dragged his teeth over the side of my neck, the motion a mockery of tenderness. “Called for you at one point, staring at your door, hoping you would jump in to save her.”
A broken moan stumbled from my lips, my nail digging deeper into the damp soil as pleasure sank its teeth into me.
His hips rolled, measured and punishing, his nails burrowing deep enough into my skin to bruise.
“She sounded like a wounded animal when I took my dagger to her fingers, one by one.” He pulled out, making me whimper at the loss, then he pounded into me again, drawing a loud moan from my throat. “You should have seen the way she gurgled when the last one dropped–”
I clenched, a sharp gasp escaping my lips. The shame, the filth, the sheer obscenity of it all swallowed me whole.
He chuckled darkly. “You like that, don’t you?” He licked the spot below my ear, savoring the tremor in my muscles. “Is this the darkness I have been waiting for?”
Another brutal thrust, another wave of pleasure crashing against the horror of his words. The fear still lingered, a whisper at the edges, but it was drowned by something deeper. Something I couldn’t name.
Something he was pulling from me, one filthy, aching stroke at a time.
44
BETH
That’s my fucking good girl.
“You’re just as fucked up as me, Elizabeth,” Zaghan’s breath was harsh, hot, and ragged as it fanned my ear, his fingers tightening around my throat, pressing just enough to make me gasp.
He stilled inside me, thick and pulsing, stretching my walls as though he owned my body, my pleasure.
“Look at you,” he whispered against the storm. “So pathetic and needy. Still squeezing me so fucking tight as you ride my cock on your mother’s grave.”
A violent tremor ripped through me, shame tangling with something darker. My nails clawed at the wet earth, dirt grinding beneath my fingertips as my hips jerked, desperate to meet his next thrust. And when he pulled out, leaving me emptyjust for a second, I barely had time to blink before he slammed back into me, knocking breath from my lungs.
“I bet you want me to tell you all the details.” His words slithered down my spine like a sin, while my moans sliced through the clasp of thunder as his pace quickened. The wet sounds of our bodies rivalled the rain pelting on the headstone, soaking us both in a chill, illicit baptism.
“Should I tell you?” His nails dug into my hip, each thrust maddening and provoked.
“Answer me, Elizabeth, or forget about coming tonight,” he growled, yanking my head backward by a fistful of my hair until I was staring up at his hollow, dark eyes.
His cruel promise, however, caused my pussy to clench possessively around him, heat pooling low in my stomach.
“Do you want me to tell you how I erased that fucking bitch from your life?” His fingers flexed around my throat.
“Yes,” I found myself caving, whimpering as I quivered around him.
Like a deranged motherfucker, there was a weird excitement in his voice, a sick grin curving his luscious lips as he narrated how he murdered Mother in our living room. The way her scream had echoed through the night yet no one heard her.
As he told the horrific tale, his eyes gleamed, depraved, and alight with something wicked, yet I didn’t recoil. Instead, something shifted inside me. Something twisted, blackened and rotting, stirring awake.
When he reached the part where Mother took her last, shuddery breath, a sharp cry tore from my throat. My entire body locked, legs quaking, spine bowing as pleasure—hot, vicious, and all-consuming—crashed over me in a brutal wave, drowning his cock in the sickest, most intense orgasm I ever had.
The loud shrill of a bell snapped me back to reality, and like a thief caught stealing, I froze, eyes blinking rapidly, cheeks hot.
I felt the moistness between my legs, and I instantaneously pressed my thighs together, shame slicing through my chest, stirring a bitter feeling in my gut.
This was probably the hundredth time I was thinking about that night. That sick and twisted night.
I left without telling Kenzo goodbye even when Zaghan gave me the sweet chance to. I simply couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face Kenzo. I couldn’t tell him goodbye. Not when I just had sex with a man on my mother’s grave. Not when I just found out my mother was dead, yet felt no remorse. Got railed on her grave and came all over it, instead. The woman who gave birth to me was murdered by the man whose ring I was wearing. But I didn’t cry. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t sad. I didn’t know what to feel. I was just…numb.
