Page 31 of Love Her Ruin
“He’ll scream,” Eddie says. “The whole block might hear, and those officers might ask them questions either before or after they come back here.”
I look at Daddy. “Can you keep him quiet again?”
The shadows around Daddy coalesce, thickening into tendrils of absolute night. They slide across the floor, silent as oil, and wrap around Vincent’s throat like a dark promise. A collar of void.
Vincent’s eyes bulge. He tries to draw a breath, but the shadows are in his mouth, down his throat, filling his lungs with silence. He makes a wet, gurgling sound, his body straining against the shadow-chains.
“Good. But let’s warm him up first. And me.” I turn to Eddie. “James, make some pretty decorations on him first while Eddie fucks the memory of those cops on my front porch out of my head.”
Eddie meets me halfway across the floor. His hands find my waist, his mouth seeking mine, and I taste his need on his tongue. He lifts me onto the workbench and takes me with a desperation that feels like worship.
His cock is hard and thick, and after dragging my leggings and panties halfway down, he slides into my pussy like he’s always belonged there. I wrap my legs around his waist, pull him deeper, and let myself feel something other than rage and panic. For a moment, I am just a woman being fucked by a man who loves her.
For a moment, I am almost human.
"Fuck me," I whisper against his mouth. "Fuck me like you mean it."
He does. He grips my hips and drives into me, hard and fast, his breath hot against my neck. Shadows seep from him and curl around me, a single tendril playing with my clit. Another snakes up his cock inside me and strokes both him and me.
I dig my nails into his shoulders, arch my back, and take everything he gives me. The workbench creaks beneath us. My head falls back, and I moan, a sound that feels like it’s been locked in my chest for years.
In my periphery, James approaches Vincent, knife in hand, while he watches us fuck. His erection presses against his black jeans, and he palms it. The blade catches the overhead light, and I see my reflection in it, distorted and strange while Eddie pounds into me.
My body locks around him, every nerve ending lit and screaming. The pleasure is vicious, the kind that leaves bruises on the inside, the kind that makes you wonder if you're breaking or finally putting yourself back together.
He comes inside me with a groan, his body shuddering against mine. I hold him there, feeling him pulse, feeling his cum spread through me. Then he kisses me until I’m full and complete.
"Rapist," James says, testing the word on his tongue. "Seven letters. Fits nicely across the ribs, aye?"
Both of us turn toward James slowly advancing on Vincent, not bothering to hide our nudity. Daddy slides in behind me, and his shadows lick up my inner thighs to collect our combined cum and push it back inside me.
I post my arms on the workbench to brace myself against the force of him inside my pussy, my whole body quivering.
Vincent tenses, tries to pull away from James’s approach, but the shadow-chains hold him fast.
"Ye know what that word means, Vincent?Rapist?" He says it slowly, savoring each syllable. "It means ye took something that was nae yours. It means ye used your power to break someone smaller than ye. It means you're a coward who could nae get what he wanted without force."
He presses the tip of the knife against Vincent's skin, just below the sternum.
"I'm carving this into ye so that you'll remember what ye are. Not a sheriff. Not a man. Arapist. And Hell will know it, even if it's only the four of us, ye, and the dark."
Daddy pulls me back toward him while his shadows continue to slowly fuck me.
James begins to carve.
The knife is sharp, so it parts the flesh like water, leaving a thin red line that wells with blood. Vincent whimpers, twitches, but with Daddy’s shadows down his throat, he can’t scream. James works slowly, deliberately, his tongue poking out between his lips in concentration.
The first letter takes shape, curved and elegant, a work of art.
"R," James says. "For ruin. For rot. For the refuse of humanity that ye are."
He moves to the second letter.
"A," he says. "For animal. For the way ye hunted. For the way ye took what was nae offered."
The third letter.
"P," he says. "For predator. For the way ye stalked. For the way ye struck when no one was watching."
