Page 143 of Born for Lace

They made me a bomb. Used my possessiveness. Jealousy. Obsession. Sent me out to find the baby, knowing I would implode emotionally when I saw her.

And I did.

When my cock thrust into her wet, warm pussy, and a voice in my head hissed she likes it rough,Six…

She wants to fuck Six.

Not Lagos. Six.

She is not yours anymore.

She has fucked Tomar.

She has fucked the doctor.

She. Is. Not. Yours.

I snarl at the road ahead, the Redwind flogging the metal sides of the vehicle, lashing sounds that remind me of the pits of hell and the past five months.

Releasing her hand, I wrap my arm around her shoulder, pulling her exhausted little body closer.

Her scent thickens my cock.

Blood. Kill. Is she still mine?

The coil may have been removed, but a dark void remains, and inside that bloodied grey matter, paranoia festers.

I cannot trust my muscles, mind, or memories. Betrayed by my body when it obeys The Trade’s conditioned response to her, my cock leaks, throbbing with the need to be milked, just from the subtle notes of her hair.

Kill.

Fuck.

She needs to keep that taser.

Last time I came out of this haze, I only had myself to consider. That first year, I only cared to sleep, fuck, and try not to kill too many people in the process.

This time, I have her.

And the babies.

I am physically surged with the need to protect her from the darkness I know is out here, from the depravities and evil I know is inside me.

You’re mine until you’re safe.

Words I swore to her, words I meant. Little did I know that there is no such place, that no part of The Cradle is completely safe.

So, she is mine.

We drive all day, and by the time we get to the farmhouse, last-light bleeds into The Crust, succumbing to the dense darkness.

I survey the property, the old brick and wooden structure standing defiantly against the weather and somehow… hidden and untouched. Invisible.

But we saw it.

Found it.

‘It’s ours, Lagos.’

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