I twist my hands in her matted, bloody hair as I force her up from the floor, pulling free from her depths.
“Open that fuckin’ mouth,” I growl, ready to lose all control for her.
She obeys, and her pink tongue darts out, desperate for my bloody, arousal-coated cock. “Suck it clean. Show me you’re mine.”
I grip her crown and don’t give her a chance to reply. I stuff my entire cock in her hole. “Taste it. Taste us,” I groan darkly.
She mumbles against my dick, and it feels good.Too fuckin’ good.
I release her mouth with a pop and force her on her stomach. I slam her cheek into the pool of blood. “Lick it,” I instruct. Her eyes crescent. “What’s the matter? Too fucked-up for you?” I taunt, knowing she wants this as much as I do. We both do. Gotta satisfy the fucked-up craving.
Her words take me by surprise. “It’s not sweet like yours.”
Fuckin’ Christ.
I force her to her knees and twist her around, bruising her little body. I don’t hesitate. I reach for the discarded blade beside Pearson and make a laceration along my abdomen. Another scar to join the others. Least this one will have a memory attached. I groan, and my eyelids flutter as the blade mars my ruined flesh, pulling me into the throes of pleasure. I relish in the fucked-up sepulchral pain.
Blood seeps from my wound, and my inky eyes laser into her. “Drink.”She swallows thickly and crawls towards me in a sultry dance. She grips my thighs slowly with shaky hands. My knees dig into the bloody floor. Her tongue lashes out along my stomach making my abs contract. She laps up every last drop of my offering. I let out a torrid grunt. Only take a few minutes before I’m leaking pre-cum, and I fuckin’ snap. I flip her around onto all fours, gaping her cunt wide open for me. I spit on her asshole and pussy before thrusting home into her warmth.Fuckin’ home.She howls in delight, and I pound mercilessly into her pussy. My hand snakes around her front to find her swollen clit. She’s close, and I’m ready to force her over the edge while I join her in tainted bliss.
“Come for me,” I command in a fevered whisper.
Her head snaps back, and I wrap my free hand around her throat like a necklace. That’s all it takes. She likes my necessary roughness. She rides out the wave of euphoria. My thrusts turn jagged, and I coat her inner walls with my seed, joining her.
“I’llneverlet you go.”
The soft flicker or the fireplace dances in front of my closed eyes. The quiet sound of a pen scribbling on a parchment fills my ears. My eyes flutter open. It takes me a moment to realize where I’m at. Red silk sheets surround me, cocooning me. My hair is clean and freshly washed. A long, silk nightgown clings to my warm, damp skin.
I’m tucked into my bed in…my room? He must have bathed me. I’m not sure why, but it feels strangely intimate and comforting. The fact that it comes from Zain says a lot. From the corner of the room, by the balcony door, Zain sits hunched over, scribbling something onto paper at my desk. The room is quiet other than the crackle of the fire, his steady scribbling, and the faint windy whistle coming from outside. The room smells clean and warm with cinnamon and vanilla with a hint of cigarette smoke.
Then I remember. Pearson. Blood. Zain. All of it. It flows back into my mind like a raging flood. I jolt forward and Zain glances my way with an inscrutable expression. “He-he’s dead?” I ask, looking for my wingback chair that’s now missing from my space. The floor is scrubbed clean, stripped of the incriminating truths that lie there.
He nods, drops his pen, then scoots his chair out and stalks over.
“And Suzanne and Bella?” I ask, hoping he didn’t kill them too. They’re innocent. I grasp the clean sheets between my fingers, clutching to the hope they’re okay.
“No. They’re locked in their rooms with a heavy dose of sedative,” he says assuringly.
I nod.
He lets out a heavy sigh.
“What now?” I ask, meeting his gaze, looking for direction. His inky, black hair is stuck to his forehead. He looks like he’s lacking sleep judging by his bloodshot eyes.
His jaw ticks. “I’m going to raze this fuckin’ place to the ground,” he says simply, not missing a beat.
I used to adore this estate. Despite that it served as a cage for so long, it was still the place I called home. The place I grew up. I see the way Zain looks at it like it’s a disease he wants to eradicate from the world. Then it hits me. He lived here too. Even though it was before me and for a much shorter time, this washishome at one point. Every memory from this place must linger in his mind, asphyxiating him in sorrow and grief.
The turmoil within these walls must be too much for him to bear, and he’s counting down the moments until he can tarnish and diminish the Santi name.
I nod, understanding his need for closure and vengeance. Where does this leave me? He must sense my trepidation. He stalks back over to the desk and picks up a small folded note, then brings it over to me.
Slowly, I unwrap it.
My dearest Vesper,
I hope this note finds you well. I was unable to live with the guilt of losing Amelia. Her loss those many years ago has only weakened my resolve. Now with you off to college and the home empty and stale, I felt it best to take my leave. I know this home meant the world to you, but I can no longer look at these halls every day and realize I am alone.
My entire net worth will be left to you. I hope you understand I do love you greatly and I did none of this to hurt you.
