Page 182 of Psycho

Again, he went back to eating me out once more, my blood coating the skin on his face.

His fingers came out to play, and he fucked me with them as his tongue slid between my folds.

The pain from the cut added to the pleasure.

I came yet again, my entire body feeling so wrung out, I barely moved when he pushed up and started to untie me.

He pulled me up to a sitting position and kissed my lips. I pulled away when I tasted the metallic flavor on him, my face scrunched up in disgust.

Fury rose to the surface as more tears fell, though I didn’t know if that was from the orgasm or from my anger, or both.

I shoved at his chest.

He didn’t even bulge.

“Why?” I croaked out, slapping my hand down his chest roughly. “Why!”

“You fucking belong to me. Now, anyone who tries to touch you will know it too.”

I shook my head, letting the anger show on my face. He had carved my skin in the one place that would only be seen if I was in an intimate position with another man.

I knew that was on purpose.

I grabbed the cover and carefully wiped away the blood, tears blurring my vision.

I swiped it away and finally saw what he carved into my skin for the first time.

Property of Micah Stone

My eyes methis in disbelief.

“My mistake was not claiming you since that first day I saw you,” he said darkly. “I’m not the kind of man to make the same mistake twice. I will make sure everyone in this godforsaken world knows you belong to me. And I will kill anyone for touching what’s mine.”

I swallowed.

I believed him.

Some part of me already knew it, but to hear him say the actual words…

I shook my head. “I’m not fucking cattle to be branded. You said you belong to me as well. But now you carve into me? How could you?”

And I had lain there, willingly letting him tie me to the bed.

I tried to climb off, but he stopped me by wrapping his arms around my middle and pulling me close to his body.

The scent of blood teased my nostril, making me feel sick.

“Let me go, you sick son of a bitch! Let go!”

He grabbed my right hand, holding onto it. In my struggles, it took me a moment to realize what he was doing.

I stilled when I felt the hard handle of the blade pushed against my palm. I fisted it instinctively and looked at him in horror, already realizing where he was going with this.

“Mark me,” he said.

I shook my head, trying to pull away.

He held me firmly against him, his lips moving down to my ear. “Mark me, Lainey. The same way I marked you. Show the rest of the world who owns this psycho.”

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