Will I take it all the way tonight?
Will I ruin her in ways she hasn’t even imagined?
Or will I just walk her home, not stay and leave her to drown in the silence?
To be honest, I don’t even know what the fuck to do… yet.
Striding through the carnival, Aurelia stops, and I seem to halt too. My brows pinch in confusion as I look down at her and she closes the distance between us but has no emotion in her eyes.
She tilts her head back, gaze on my lips, and I leans in slowly until mine meet hers. As soon as our tongues collide and I let my guard down for a single fucking second, something clamps around my throat, the sound of the lock clicking into place, and echoing in my ears.
I immediately recoil, tearing my mouth away from hers and my hand shoots up to my neck.
It’s a collar. A fucking shock collar. I growl lowly as I take a step forward, eyes locked on her as she moves backward, slow and deliberate, like she’s waiting for me to pounce on her.
She backs up toward an old amusement booth, never breaking eye contact, then climbs onto the ledge, legs dangling, and spreads them without a word.
A silent challenge. A fucking trick. One I walked straight the fuck into it. Note to self: Don’t ever underestimate my little corpse.
“Now fuck me,” she breathes, the shock collar button clutched tightly between her fingers, ready to zap me at any second.
“I thought I fucking won,” I snap, brow twitching as I stare her down.
That smile spreads across her face, wide, smug, and shining under the moonlight.
“I always win in the end,” she says, calm as ever, gold eyes glinting with something dark. “You always take what you want, Wrath. Now it’s my turn. If you go too far, I’ll just give you a little shock to your system.”
My jaw clenches so hard it aches, and my fingers twitch at my sides. Disdain consumes me, rage biting at the edges. I’ve always been the one who does what the fuck he wants. Always. And now she’s flipping the whole game on its head, locking me down, twisting the rules and pushing me to the fucking edge just to see how violent I’ll get.
“You really think this flimsy shock collar is going to stop me taking your precious life while I screw your dying cunt raw, little corpse?” I snarl, taking steps forward, and her face falls just a fraction.
I continue until I’m between her legs, the heat of her pussy pressed against my dick, but she still has her chin raised like she stands a fucking chance.
“You’re wrong.” I growl lowly. “Nothing…” I lean down, biting against her lips. “Nothing would fucking stop me. Nothing ever has.”
I lift my hand, taking her chin aggressively and her breath stutters.
“I like fucking the dead, Aurelia. I get a sick kick out of watching the light fade… and feeling the last breath leave their bodies while they’re still warm… It’s what I am... And in this fucked-up mind of mine… I’ve already picked out your pretty little coffin.”
Her eyes stay fixed on mine, her breathing now shallow and uneven as I continue to warn her.
“You're on a suicide mission asking me to fuck you.... Is that what you want, hm?” I hiss, my thumb dragging over her plump bottom lip, smearing the black paint like a cruel mark. “To die beneath me—shaking… torn wide open… choking on your own fucking screams while I decide if you get to keep breathing?”
My voice is a jagged whisper, each word wrapped in unrestrained madness, like I’m daring her to say yes. “You don’t know what you’re trying to wake up... You have no fucking idea what you’re playing with...” I breathe, taking a pause to stare deep into her eyes.
“I’ve buried urges deeper than any grave I’ve ever dug—just for you, just to stop myself from doing something insane, and lose you forever.. I’ve held back for you, and still, you sit there, sweet mouth full of confidence, begging for it like it’s nothing…. Like I won’t fucking do it?”
My chest heaves, throat raw, as it hits me—I’ve said more to her in mere seconds than I’ve said to anyone my entire fucking life. It’s all spilling out of me now.
“As you said, you’ve held back for me. What’s once more?” she whispers, still ready to chance it all.
“I’m no stranger to death, Wrath. I died once and if you haven’t noticed already, I’m not afraid of it,” she continues, voice quiet. “Here I am—a resurrected little corpse, just for you to ruin all over again. Your way. The right way.”
Her words knock something loose in my head and my brows draw together, ready to ask what the fuck she means, but she doesn’t give me the chance.
One arm slips around the back of my neck, while the other drops between us. Her hand cups my balls and she squeezes.
Slow, deliberate and tempting.