He then spreads my ass wide, his fingers digging into the soft flesh with a bruising intensity. I can feel his eyes on me,devouring every inch as he watches himself slide in and out of my pussy, each movement slow and torturous.
As the wet sounds fill the room, a deep rumble pulls from his throat, and his head falls back, his neck rolling as if he’s loving every second, every sensation. His clutches hard, his nails biting into my skin, and the possessiveness in his touch makes my stomach coil.
“My beautiful little bloody cum slut,” he spits through tight teeth with frustration. “You know how to take me so well and I fucking love it.”
His gaze snaps back to me, dark and fierce, and I watch from the corner of my eye as he starts ramping up the pace. His face contorts into a mask of pleasure and insanity as he smashing into the deepest depths of me repeatedly.
He fucks me sadistically for what feels like hours, cumming, then going again, forcing me into multiple orgasms continuously until we both can’t physically take anymore. When I’m completely overflowing with his hot cum, he slides his heavy dick out of my swollen pussy, and I let out a gasp, my exhausted body falling forward. I try to draw air into my lungs, my entire body shaking violently and sweating. He drags his zipper back up with calm movements, watching me closely.
“Let’s get out of here, freckles.” He says and I groan as he lifts my lifeless body off the bed. When I stand, he holds me up and I feel blood and ridiculous amounts of his cum run down my legs.
We both glance down before looking at each other and we share a laugh despite the depravity of it all. His hand gently finds my cheek, his thumb sweeping across my cheek.
“You did good, little slayer. How do you feel?”
I take a small glance around, taking in the madness of it all before my eyes meet his. I wrap my arms around his neck, drawing his lips down to mine.
“I don’t regret a single second.” I whisper before shoving my tongue into his mouth.
He devourers me with a growl, pulling me closer to him, his hand grabbing my asscheek tightly and when he pulls away, leaving me breathless and tingling, he scans my eyes sinisterly.
“That’s my fucking girl.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ty
It’s been a few day since I killed that couple with Raven and I’m staring down at my phone, my eyes scanning over a new text.
[You’re lucky to have me. To have us. Or your ass would have been back inside that fucking looney house by now.]
The words glow on the screen like a threat, sharp and mocking. My fingers around the phone squeeze, the edges biting into my palm as I stare at the fucked-up message, the pit in my stomach deepening. Who the fuck is this? And why the hell are they watching my back when I didn’t ask for it?
[Who’s this?]The text sends before I can think twice. It’s the first time I’ve bothered responding.
The reply comes almost immediately, as if they were waiting.[Or maybe you belong there, like the rest of us, Slasher.]
Slasher? My brows knit together as my mind twists around it, trying to figure out who’s trying to play games with me. My thoughts are a mess of frustration, but they’re cut short when Raven steps into the room.
She’s fresh from the shower, a towel draped around her body, her red damp hair clinging to her shoulders. I side-eye her briefly, noting the subtle worry etched into her face, before shoving my phone deep into the pocket of my jeans.
“You're going out again?” she asks, the unease threading her words impossible to miss.
I adjust the strap of the bag slung across my back, checking the weight of it and I don’t answer.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she presses, her voice softer now, her concern peeling at my defences.
My jaw clenches as my thoughts snap back to where I’m headed. I can’t explain this to her—not the mansion burned into my memory, not the man who owns it, not the years I’ve spent hunting for this place like it’s the fucking key to everything. And it might be. It belongs to the man who took her, the last one who had my sister. The motherfucker is hiding behind a fortress of wealth and power, but I’ve seen what’s beneath. The businesses, the connections—everything points to someone high up in the chain. Too high to touch. Higher than most.
Her hand brushes against my arm, light and unsure, trying to ground me. I pull away before it can stick. She doesn’t get it. This isn’t a fight I’m walking into—it’s a fucking storm, and there’s a good chance I won’t make it out in one piece or alive. I know that. I’ve made peace with it. But she wouldn’t. She’d try to stop me.
The words I want to say lodge in my throat. I glance at her, just for a second, the worry in her eyes enough to curl the knife of guilt deeper.
I turn to face her fully and slowly, my hands finding their way to the sides of her neck. My palms press against her warm skin, my thumbs brushing along her jawline as I tilt her head back. I lean in, placing my forehead against hers and as her small hands curl around my wrists, her touch levels me in a way I didn’t know I needed. My thumbs glide gently over her cheeks, tracing the lines of her pretty face.
I search her eyes—those pretty, ocean-blue eyes flecked with concern and something delicate. My gaze moves lower, taking in the freckles dusted across her skin and those rosy, plump lips that part slightly, drawing me in. She’s here, real, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the fucking chaos in my mind quiets. But it’s replaced by a strange sadness. A reality I didn’t think I’d be faced with.Losing her.
“You mean so much to me,” I murmur, the quiet words tumbling out.