Page 245 of Coal Hearts

Despite her best efforts to hide, she couldn’t stop the creamy white trail of my semen leaking out of her.

My cock twitched in pride.

My chest swelled with ownership.

I’d walked into this room a pathetic shadow of my true self, and now...with Ily’s blood staining my body and my cum staining hers, I felt complete.

Grabbing my trousers from where I’d kicked them off, I slipped them up and fastened the zipper. With a satisfied sigh, I turned to face Victor.

He stood beside the backgammon table that’d been righted from me crashing into it. Fresh platters of food waited, summoning me to devour. He saluted me with an onion tartlet. “Well done.”

I tipped my chin and stalked toward him.

I couldn’t ignore the urge to eat anymore.

Snagging a salt-encrusted cracker with what looked like duck pâte and some microgreens, I shoved it into my mouth. The booze in my system was a distant memory.

“How does it feel?” Victor asked quietly, throwing a look at Peter who kneeled by Victor’s feet. “Are you finally free?”

Bracing myself, I sank my teeth into another delicious morsel and chewed.

I waited.

I swallowed.

I searched inside for that debilitating nausea, daring it to creep over me and make me vomit all over Victor’s lambskin slippers.

Still nothing.

My shoulders rolled with such fucking gratefulness, I almost stumbled.

Did this mean I’d never have to puke up my rotten guts anymore?

That all I had to do to find a cure was stride over that mythical line I’d always avoided?

Perhaps my constant state of sickness had been yet another symptom of my denial?

It seemed so.

It felt so.

And slowly, the biggest smile of my life spread my lips.

Grabbing a handful of perfectly seasoned peanuts, I shoved them all in my mouth and laughed. Victor’s question bounced around in my wondrously empty mind, and my body turned jittery with relief.

Bursting at the seams with emotions I didn’t know how to fucking process, I strode to Victor and slung my arm around his slender shoulders. Peter shot me a look before his gaze sneaked back to where Ily hung silent and miserable in her binds.

“You know what, Vic?” I kissed the cocksucker on the cheek. “I feel fan-fucking-tastic.” Glancing at the spread of snacks, I shrugged. “In fact, I’ve worked up quite the appetite.”

“Oh?” Victor chuckled and stepped out of my half embrace. His eyes narrowed, full of unreadable things. “You’ve indulged in enough pussy tonight I’m sure, so what are you hungering for now?”

“A juicy bloody steak.”

Peter winced.

Ily gagged.

And Victor merely smiled like the reptile he was, still watching me a tad too closely. “As you wish. Peter, take Ily to see Dr Belford and then put her to bed. I expect to see you both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning.”