Page 73 of Cry, Little Dove

“Open your mouth and taste his suffering,” he orders.

Before I can think about it for too long and get cold feet, I do as he says. Cain pushes his fingers between my lips. A sour, metallic taste spreads over my tongue. I moan. Fuck, this is disgusting and so goddamn sexy.

Cain forces his digits into my throat, setting off my gag reflex. My cunt throbs and my eyes water, but the urge to please him is stronger. His fingers fuck my throat at the same pace as he fucks my pussy, and my senses go into overload.

I can’t breathe. Can’t move. I can only stand there and let Cain ravage me, let him push me closer and closer and closer to the edge.

“Choke on my fingers like you choked on my cock in the car,” he hisses, and I suck in my cheeks, my tongue swirling. “Show your ex what a dirty slut you are for me. Before I snuff out his pathetic life, the last thing he’ll see will be how hard I make you come. Better than he ever could.”

The pressure within me bursts like a bolt of lightning. My ears pop. I think I’m going to faint from the shockwaves pulsing outward from my pussy. My knees give out, but Cain’s fingers leave my throat and he wraps his arm around me, holding me upright.

“That’s it, little dove. Come for me.” A groan cuts him off. “Damn, you squeeze my cock so tight.”

This orgasm lasts an eternity. Pleasure lights up every nerve inside me like fireworks and I notice that this isn’t one climax. It’s a couple in a row and they just keep happening. My pussy is still convulsing when Cain’s hips jerk, a torrent of his cum painting my insides.

He pulls our joined hands out of Nate’s wound. They are coated in warm, thick blood like a red thread around our fingers, binding us forever. I know that even when I wash it off, the invisible taint will always stain us the same shade of vermillion sin.

Cain finally comes down from his orgasm, but he stays inside me as he picks up the scalpel again and pushes into Nate’s chest. The frantic beeping of the heart monitor turns into a monotonous, long sound, and with a last gasp, Nate goes limp.

The breath rushes from my lungs in a smile.

Cain killed him for me, but that’s not all. Carefully, he takes something from inside Nate’s body and my eyes widen.

His heart.

“Didn’t I promise I’d give you his heart, darlin’?” he asks.

I brush along the bright red organ as if it’s a fragile, exotic flower. It’s still warm. It feelsalive. “Oh, this is beautiful,” I whisper and look at Cain over my shoulder. “Thank you.”

I’m not just thanking him for the macabre trophy and the sex. I thank him for showing me who I really am.

Nate’s death is my rebirth.

The old Erica, the one who tried to be good and turned the other cheek, is gone. I like the new Erica a whole lot more. She’s kinky and confident and entirely herself. She’s happy. She’s living, not just surviving.

Cain puts the heart into a jar with yellow liquid on the surgical cart before he switches off the machines. Silence blankets the room. He leaves me empty, zipping up his jeans while I straighten my panties and my skirt.

In the quiet, we stand motionless opposite each other and a shadow of triumph spreads across his face. I know what he’s thinking. The same thoughts fill my head.

I killed with him.

Like I wanted, I have become Cain’s equal and his partner in crime. For better or worse, there’s no way back now. I shattered the chains he forced on me and bound myself to him again with a crimson tether of my own making.

“I’m proud of you, little dove. It’s an honor to watch you spread your bloody wings and fly,” he says and his praise heats my chest.

If you asked me all those weeks ago if I could ever see myself falling for a serial killer or if I’d be into fucking while we kill my ex, I would have laughed at you.

I still know I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t crave the violence and the sex, and I shouldn’t yearn for his gentleness and his affection.

But when Cain’s head bows and his lips seal mine, clarity washes over me. Despite everything I’ve been taught about relationships, about right and wrong, about good and evil, there is only one word to describe what we have:

Love.

Bloody, vicious, true love.

We come from vastly different backgrounds, but the same void yawns inside our chests, threatening to swallow us whole. Only the other can fill it with passion as black as tar.

The truth flays me open. I have that in common with Nate on the operating table. Everything inside me is laid bare and I can’t hide it any longer. Not from myself, and not from Cain.

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