What do you think?
Rate this book
258 pages, ebook
First published October 20, 2021
"You think I'd be attracted to some filthy little scrabbler with bitten fingernails and raggedy shoelaces?" I sneer.
Before I can draw breath, he roughly seizes my left breast. The same pain stabs though it, and this time I understand that I'm being pierced not severed. This motherfucker put rings through my nipples.
She’s not wearing a dress now. Alastor has her wrapped up in some ludicrous S&M outfit, all leather straps and steel grommets.
So I take one last glance at the girl's beautifully tortured body. Then I step over her and carry on my way.
I lay down in her bed, my head on her pillow. I turn my face so my nose is pressed against her crumpled sheets and I inhale.
A single pair of black briefs lies abondoned next to the bed. I assume this is the underwear she shucked off this morning. Lifting it to my face, I inhale the scent of her warm morning pussy.
My cock is raging now. I unzip my pants, allowing it to spring free. I stroke it gently while I breathe in the scent of Mara's cunt. I even put out my tongue and taste the cotton strip that nestled between her pussy lips.
She rushes everywhere she goes, running from job to job, always late.
I respect the hustle, but her existence is tawdry and depressing. The thought of waiting tables, taking people's orders, and serving their food is offensive to me. Picking up dog shit in the park for mutts you don't even own is worse. I'm surprised she wanted to save herself the night Shaw took her, if this is all she had to come home to.
"Mara was just about to express her thanks for everything I've done for her. And since she's so extremly ... grateful ... I'm sure she'd be happy to include you."
(...)
"Here she is, already on her knees," Cole says in that low, silky voice of his. "I'm sure she'd be happy to suck your cock as an appetizer to mine. She's already proven herself an extremely capable student..."
They're rolling around in the paint until they hardly have an inch of bare skin left. They roll over the canvas, they fuck on top of it. He spoons her on it, fucking her from behind.
She fucked on that painting, and then she hung it on my wall. I'm struck anew by the absolute insanity of this girl. I admire her audacity. While planning how I'll punish her for it.
(...)
She signed the painting in sharpie and titled it: The Best Night of My Life
"I can't have another man's mark on you."
"I designed that tattoo," I hiss.
"I designed a better one." He reaches inside the doctor's bag. Pulling out a tattoo gun.
"Are you insane?" I shriek. "Don't worry," he says. "I've been practicing the last few hours."
"On who?!"
He just smiles
Craning my neck, I seethat he's holding some kind of devide, shaped like an oversized microphone. The head looks soft and bulbous. "It's like the dryer," he says, his lips curving up. "Only much, much better..." He presses his tool between my legs, right against my pussy.
“Her?” he says softly. “You surprise me, Cole. I’ve never seen you take a stroll in the gutter before.”
I turn away from the girl, irritation swelling inside of me.
“You think I’d be attracted to some filthy little scrabbler with bitten fingernails and raggedy shoelaces?” I sneer.
“You’re no different than me,” he hisses. “You’re no better.”
“I am better,” I say. “Because whatever I do, I’m always in control.”
I walk away from him then, so those words can echo and echo in the emptiness of his head.
An artist is always looking at ratios and proportions.
His dark, almond-shaped eyes, the straight slashes of his brows, the line of his nose, the high cheekbones and razor-fine jaw, all relieved by the flawless curve of his lips—I’ve never seen such perfect balance.
It’s so surreal, I think I must be hallucinating.
A single pair of black briefs lies abandoned next to the bed. I assume this is the underwear she shucked off this morning.
Lifting it to my face, I inhale the scent of her warm morning pussy.
It’s similar to the smell of her sheets, but musky.
My cock is raging now. I unzip my pants, allowing it to spring free. I stroke it gently while I breathe in the scent of Mara’s cunt. I even put out my tongue and taste the cotton strip that nestled between her pussy lips.
I can’t protect her. Her death is inevitable.
But I��ll be damned if Shaw is the one to do it.
Mara belongs to me.
I’m the only one who gets to kill her.
Mara belongs to me.aw 😍
I’m the only one who gets to kill her.
"She thinks she isn’t scared of monsters? I’ll show her a fucking demon out
of hell."
━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━
"I’m something else entirely: a dark figure that repels even a curious glance. Gliding along like death, like famine, like a plague in their midst.
"Cole rubs his thumb across my cheekbone, over my lips. Then he licks the paint off my mouth. I kiss him back, the earthy paint coating my tongue."
“Bad girl . . .” he growls in my ear. “You can’t keep your hands off what you want...”
“Why should I?” I whisper back, squeezing his cock hard. “You’re the one who says whatever I want must be good...”
“I don’t care if you’re good for me,” I say. I kiss him deep and hard. I kiss him like he kissed me at the art show—like I’ll eat him alive. I fuck his mouth with my tongue like I wish he’d fuck me with cock: deep, filling his mouth all the way up.
━━━━━━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━━━━━