Page 10 of My Demon Charming

I climb down, and just before I lose sight of my bedroom, I throw a glance at Lucian, still standing in the middle of the room, watching me.

I want to believe he’s my escape. I really do. But maybe he’s not. Maybe that’s not what he does. Maybe I’ve wasted all my money on a sex toy.

Mason’s door is open when I get down to the second floor, and he’s lying in bed naked. He’s always naked. Like father, like son.

“Come on, sweetheart. What’s taking you so long?” he shouts, and I look up before I walk into Mason’s room.

As soon as I’m inside, he gets to his feet and pushes me down on my knees. The knife is already in his hands, crusty with my dried blood from earlier and from Goddess knows how many more times before that.

The Taylors don’t particularly care for hygiene. They only care about getting their fix and using their slave. Everything else is irrelevant. Unimportant.

I close my eyes, open my mouth, and wait for the inevitable.

Instead of attacking me with his dick, though, I feel a sting on my neck. Before I can even define the pain, he’s down on me, drinking my blood like a fucking vampire. His dick jabs at my back. And it’s not long before he starts grinding against me.

I don’t dare open my eyes though. The rush that’s gone to my head gets worse the more of me he drinks. I know he won’t drain me. He’s too smart for that and his father has taught him better. I just want it to be over, but it’s far from it.

Both of them like to go all night if the craving arises. They leave the snack-bite assault for the daytime, when Michelle is up and about. But when she goes to bed, in her own bedroom, of course, father and son come out to play.

The tension around the wound on my neck lifts and a foot connects with my shoulder blades, sending me face-down on the floor.

Mason turns me around and sits on my chest. He shoves his cock in my mouth and takes my arm and cuts it.

In many ways, he’s more perverted than his father. At least Kevin doesn’t physically abuse me. He doesn’t play with his meal. He’s more…transactional, I guess. Mason? He likes to assert himself.

“Open your eyes, little bro. Now!” He slaps me, and I have no choice.

But it’s not Mason who gets my attention. It’s the shadow at the door. A shadow turning redder with every second.

Lucian.

“You want me to kill him?” he asks, and he sounds absolutely demonic.

Mason jumps and attempts to cover himself before he remembers he’s got a knife in his hand and waves it at Lucian, who enters the room.

“Who-who the fuck are you? How did you get in here?” Mason shouts.

Lucian’s expression is marble stiff. He’s so out of place in this room, so formal in his suit. But when he slowly wipes his bottom lip with his index finger, he looks slightly unhinged.

“Is that how you treat your family?” He doesn’t look at me, but Mason does.

My eyes start to feel heavy. It’s funny how two moments ago, I didn’t even want to open them, and now I don’t want to close them.

“What is it to you? Huh?” Mason swipes at Lucian, but he steps back, and my stepbrother stumbles.

“It’s everything to me.”

My eyes close. What’s happening to me? When they open again, Lucian is staring at me.

“You want me to kill him?” he asks again.

I try to speak. I try to tell him, but all I manage is to nod, and I’m not sure how obvious it is. My head barely moves.

“What the fuck are you talking about? If anyone’s going to die tonight, that’s you, my friend.”

Mason makes another swipe at Lucian. This time, Lucian grabs Mason’s knife-wielding arm and pushes it back into his face, punching Mason with his own fist.

“I’m not your friend.” Lucian’s words are so low and growly they sound like a hiss. Spittle flies onto Mason’s face.

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