Page 26 of Psycho

I plunge the knife into his stomach, and smile at the blood pouring from his wound. It’s better than I ever imagined, his screams fill the large warehouse, his red face nearly matching the blood seeping onto the floor.

My father says, “Twist it, if you want him to die quickly. If you want to prolong it, go for a straight angle.”

Turning to my father with curious eyes, I beam at him.

“Could he be stitched up, so I could do it again?”

He chuckles, with what looks like beaming pride, and pats me on the head.

“If you don’t hit a vital organ, that will work.”

Shaking his head, my father laughs under his breath.

“It does make sense that my son would be a complete psycho.”

From that day forward, I became known as Psycho. It’s not just a name, I fucking earned it.

She turns her head to me, and asks, “Is that good?”

I lean forward, and run my tongue up the side of her cheek, tasting her tears. So fucking beautiful.

“It’s a good start, little lamb, but you aren’t done until he’s no longer breathing.”

She squeezes her eyes tight, and clenches her fist around the handle of my knife.

“You’re going to make me kill him,” she whispers, as the truth finally sinks in.

Placing my finger on her chin, I tilt her head back, and her eyes open, as she stares at me with a pain filled expression.

“For thirty days, you do as I say. Then, and only then, will you no longer be my property. You agreed to this deal.”

She blows out a long breath, as if trying to release stress.

“Can I do it, and get it over with? Or does it have to be slow?”

I run my fingers through my beard, while I contemplate how I should answer. Normally, I drag out torture, but I’m also aware Easton is mostly innocent. However, this is her test, and the reason she’s here is because she did cross us.

“I’ll allow a quick kill, because there will be time for me to make you torment someone, if I decide that’s what I want. If you want him to die quickly, plunge the knife into his chest, and twist it.”

She moves beside his head, and holds the bloody knife in her hand. Anastasia lowers the blade to his throat, and I could stop her from making the mistake she’s about to make, but where’s the fun in that? I’m surprised she decided on his throat, instead of doing as I said, but I like it.

“I’m sorry,” she says as she cuts into his flesh, and blood squirts all over her for a solid thirty seconds, while she stands screaming in horror. I fight the chuckle threatening to erupt, as I stare at what looks like a hot version ofCarrie.

“You should have stood on the other side of him.”

Her neck is coated in blood, and her eyes radiate fury. It’s fucking exquisite. She drops the knife.

“You fucking asshole. Instead of telling me, you said nothing. I don’t know how to murder people. You’re a fucking monster!” She screams, and now, believe it or not, my cock hardens even further.

I fist my hand in her hair, pull her to me, and lean down, slamming my lips to hers aggressively. She holds her lips closed tightly, and I growl, “Fucking open. Do not fucking test me, little lamb. You won’t enjoy the outcome.”

I slide my tongue into her mouth when she parts her lips, and she kisses me back with equal aggression. The little mewl that erupts from her sweet mouth is intoxicating. Placing her bloody hands on my chest, she grips onto my shirt, pulling me closer to her. Her anger is palpable, and I don’t fucking hate it. Anastasia would kill me if she could, yet she wants me. Without a doubt, her pussy is drenched for me.

Moving to pull back, I stop momentarily, when she sucks on my goddamn tongue like she did my dick, and I snap. I grab her hair tighter, and yank her head back.

“Are you playing games with me, little lamb?”

“No,” she whimpers.

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