Page 101 of Wicked Vile King
"Of course," I nod, "opiates."
She looks at me, confused.
"Saint." God, I could listen to her say my name all damn day. She flattens a palm against my chest over my heart.
"Mmm?" I respond.
"I need you."
"Pet . . ." I protest.
"No, you aren't listening," she says, "I needyou."
Oh.
Ohhhhhhh.
An open invitation to demask, to see the real me. She's making it hard to resist.
"Pet," I whisper against her lips, "if I fuck you now, it won't be gentle."
"I don't want you to be gentle. I just want you to be . . .you."
She's wriggling on my dick now, and I'm so close to saying fuck it. There's one final, frayed knot keeping my self-control intact at the moment, and she's about to untie it.
"If we do this," I murmur, "there's no going back. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
I'm positive she doesn't. I elaborate.
"I will fuck you on the floor, pet, in his blood. Because that's whatIneed. I'll paint your skin with it until you're red and then I'll do much, much worse."
She doesn't even flinch, my perfect fucking pet.
"Do it, Saint," she tells me, and I don't hesitate any longer. I kiss her, flattening her lips to mine and swallowing her satisfied moan. I stand, wrapping her legs around me and walk around the chaise to drop her to the floor in the biggest puddle, where I got his jugular. It mats her hair and splatters up the side of her cheek beautifully, and I look over to find the dead bastard staring at her.
Good. He can watch me fuck her raw.
"Take your shirt off," I command because it's all I can manage.
She slides it off her head and undoes her bra, freeing her delicious tits. God, they're even prettier in this light, with hard nipples and freckle-less flesh.
"Fuck," I growl, dropping to my knees in front of her. The noise in my head starts to quiet, and I slap a hand in the puddle oozing from the doc. It's shiny, sanguine, and perfect, and I admire it glistening against my palm as I flex my fingers.
She stares at me, her gaze hooded, shivering slightly as she watches me and waits. Her stomach is pale, the blue veins criss-crossing beneath her skin and peeking out. The compulsion tugs at the back of my brain. She said she wanted this, and I can't wait any longer. I lay my hand against her belly button and smear the blood across her middle, making a slash across her abdomen.
It's still warm, and I know she has to feel it too, the heat that's spilled from him. She watches me as I cover her skin, making swirls across her flesh.
Over her breasts and down her arms, across her feet and up her legs, until all of her is bloodstained and breathtaking.
I always knew she'd be beautiful covered in blood. My dick weeps.
I reach over and grab the pen, wrenching it from the doc's back with a nasty crack. She watches me as I bring the opposite end to her clit.
"Saint," she says cautiously.
I flick it, running it over the tight nub, and she spasms. I do it again, and again, and again, until with each flick, she's shuddering on the floor, her bloodied breasts arching, her ass lifting from the rug. She's so close, and I do it faster, flicking her clit with the pen, before I thrust three fingers deep inside of her, and in two pumps, she comes, calling my name as she gushes over my fingers.
