James pulls out, his cock dripping, and kicks the body aside.
Daddy handles the rest. Shadows swarm like a plague of locusts, hooking into every untouched inch of Red Hands. They pull in unison, a symphony of ripping flesh. Skin sloughs off in gruesome patches, some in whole pieces that flap and dangle before tearing free, others in shreds that leave ragged edges dripping.
His face goes last: shadows prying under the eyelids, along the lips, peeling the ordinary mask away to reveal the bloody skull beneath.
Allen Webb is a flayed corpse now, every inch of skin gone, just raw muscle and tendon and bone glistening in the dim light. Blood pools around him, thick and dark, while James’s cum still drips from what’s left of his mouth.
I step toward him through his blood, peeling off the rest of my clothes as I go, and kick him in the side. Like I expected, he doesn’t move.
Red Hands is dead.
James’s hand finds my bare shoulder, his touch buzzing with shared darkness.
“Well done, my queen,” he murmurs, lips against my ear, his breath hot on my skin. “All queens deserve a proper flaying.”
Eddie nods as he crosses toward me, his cock tucked back into his pants, his blue eyes dark with something that might be justice or just satisfaction. The air hums with Daddy’s approval, cold and vast.
Red Hands wanted revelation. We gave it to him. Layer by bloody layer.
It’s then that I realize the position he’s in. He’s caught between a kneel, like his victims, and a bow, knees curled underneath him, one hand pressed flat to the floor and the other in his lap.
He’s finally learned how to bow to the queen.
I grin.
Eddie moves in front of me. His blue eyes scan my face, and he brings his fingers to my cheek, smearing blood that was already there across my skin. The gesture is possessive, primal.
“You’re shaking,” he says.
“I’m not cold,” I say.
It’s the aftershock of power, a hunger so deep it feels like my bones are hollow.
“Aye, she is shaking,” James says, his hands coming to my hips, pulling me back against the solid, muscular wall of his body. I can feel his erection even though he just came, hard and insistent against the small of my back. “And I know exactly what she needs.”
Daddy’s presence expands, becoming a sensual, smothering blanket. The air grows colder, but the cold is laced with a promise that burns.
Eddie’s thumb traces my lower lip, pressing inside, making me taste the copper on my skin.
“Is this what you want?” he asks, his dark hair flopping over one eye. “Do you need more of us?”
“Yes.” The word is a bare scrape of sound.
That’s all the permission they need. Without a hint of strategizing, they switch places so that James is in front of me and Eddie is in the back.
James kneels in front of me slowly and licks a path downward. The heat of his palms, rough and demanding, map my curves, squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples until I gasp.
Eddie watches for a moment, his eyes dark, then he presses in behind me, turns my head toward his, and kisses me. Slow, deep, and consuming, he licks the taste of blood from my mouth and shares it. His hand slides down my back, over my ass, shoving me tighter against James’s mouth in front of me while he trails a path to my pussy.
I am trapped between them, and I have never felt freer.
James’s hands hook behind my thighs.
“Need to taste ye,” he growls, and his mouth is on me, his tongue laving through my folds with a ruthless, focused hunger.
He devours me, his stubble scraping my inner thighs, his tongue spearing inside me, then circling my clit with rough, perfect pressure. I cry out, my hands tangling in his hair, holding him to me. The sight of him—kneeling, ember-eyed, feasting on me amidst the evidence of torture and murder—sends a shock of pure, dark lust straight to my core.
Eddie’s hands smooth over my hips, and his cock, once again freed from his pants, once again very hard, presses against the cleft of my ass. He bends me over slightly, but James doesn’t seem to mind the new angle while he feasts. Eddie pushes inside me in one slow, inexorable thrust, filling me, stretching me. The dual sensation—James’s mouth working my clit, Eddie filling my pussy from behind—makes my vision blur.
