It’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever given me.
He made this. Just for me.
And what’s throbbing my heart the most is knowing, with everything inside me, he’d never do this for anyone else.
No one.
No one gets this version of him. No oneeverwill.
OnlyIget the man who bleeds for what he feels. Who writes his words on anything he can, just to communicate with me. Who tears himself apart just to give me something that can’t be bought, something forged from obsession and whatever dark thing lives in the center of that hollow soul of his.
My watery eyes snap up to his, and I notice his brow pinch just slightly, his gaze searching mine, like he’s trying to make sense of the silence between us.
I sense the confusion that clouds his red eyes. Do I like it? Do I hate it? He doesn’t understand what I’m feeling, not yet.
And I don’t wait another second to show him.
I step forward like I’m caught in a trance, my palms finding his bare chest. I rise up on the balls of my feet, reaching for him, and press a kiss to his soft, painted lips.
“Thank you,” I whisper into the space between us, my breath grazing his mouth as I stare deep into his eyes, making sure he knows I fucking mean it with everything inside me. “I’ve never seen anything so haunting… so perfect… sous.”
I sink flat on my feet, our connection lingering and without another word, I turn around, sweeping my long hair over one shoulder, baring my neck to him like an offering.
I feel him pause, just a heartbeat, and then his shaky, bloodied hands rise. He lifts the necklace and brings it to my throat. When the clasp clicks into place, it’s quiet, but it echoes inside me like a vow. It settles against me, and though it’s light in weight, it feels like a chain of souls pressing into my collarbones, marking me with some kind of importance.
I glance down, the wordLittleCorpseresting against my skin like it always belonged there.
“I’m obsessed with it,” I murmur, my fingers brushing the lettering before I turn my head, meeting his gaze behind me—those devilish eyes already locked on me.
“But…” My breath catches. “I was always yours,” I whisper darkly. “From the first time you touched me… I was already long gone. Completely lost in you and your madness.”
His wounded hand clamps around my throat, rough and claiming before his lips crash into mine. Our tongues collide, wild and feral and just like that, we’re spiraling out of control.
He spins me fast to face him, hands everywhere, fingers ripping at fabric like he can’t stand them being on me another second. I can’t breathe from the weight of it all, his need and my want, but I know I can’t lose myself in this. Not now. I’ve got to get ready.
I wrench back, lips swollen and tingling, my chest heaving.
“I need to go,” I manage, barely, but he doesn’t care. He dives back in, tongue plunging down my throat, swallowing my words. I push hard against his chest just enough to slip from his grasp, bolting toward my bag.
But he’s faster.
His hand shoots to the back of my hair, yanking me back with a growl that sounds only half-human. I wince from the pain to my skull, his grip brutal.
Then he lifts me easily, his arm wrapped around my waist from behind as he carries me two steps and drops me on his bed. I land on my hands and knees, breath shallow, blood roaring in my ears as his shadow falls over me. A threat and promise of what’s to come.
He wastes no time pulling my panties and jeans down my thigh before pushing on the back of my head harshly, forcing me to sink my face into his soft sheets, ass up in the air.
He grabs my waist, yanking me toward him with a harsh tug and when I’m arched enough, his large hands land on my ass before he splits me wide open with a violent jerk, exposing everything.
His face follows, deep diving into me, eating my ass and pussy out like I’m his favorite breakfast. It’s sloppy, messy, fucking vicious, but I allow him to ruin me, pulling strangled moans from my body—sounds only he has the audacity to orchestrate. My hand reaches back, grabbing his soft hair and pulling him further into me.
After Wrath utterly wrecks my senses, dragging orgasm after orgasm out of me until I’m nothing but a trembling, destroyed mess, I stumble out of the Hollows trailer on unsteady legs, my hair tangled, my pussy still pulsing with aftershocks.
I glance back as I walk toward my trailer, feeling his eyes on me. There he is, watching, one arm resting above him on the doorframe, the other hand squeezing his hard shaft in his sweats. He licks his lips slightly, tasting me on them, his red gaze still full of hunger, like he wants more.
Of course, he does. His balls must be hurting. I don’t know why he hasn’t just fucked the life out of me already. Well, I think I do. Maybe he knows he can’t control his impulses, and he doesn’t want to lose me. But how will that work? I need to feel him inside me.
Actually, I’m dying for it at this point.