Page 127 of Dance of Madness

You touched what’s mine.

In one swift stroke, I draw my knife across his throat. There's a wet gurgling sound as a flood of sticky crimson pours down his chest.

I don’t bother watching him die, just drop the knife to the ground, turn and walk back to Milena. She whimpers as I roughly pull her up onto the table, flip her over, and then lay her back, her legs spread wide around my hips.

My hand wraps around her throat as I guide myself back into her. My hips crash into her thighs, my cock fucking her drippy, greedy pussy as her unfettered, wild moans fill my ears.

She starts to turn her head to look over at Leo and see why he’s stopped screaming. But I hold her jaw firmly, shaking my head as my cock rams into her over and over.

“Eyes on me, princess,” I groan. “Always on me.”

It’s only then that I realize my hand around her throat has blood on it.

Not mine. Not hers.

The thought brings a feral grin to my lips as I start to fuck her recklessly. Wildly.

I feel like a fucking tribal chieftain or a goddamn warlord, still dripping with the blood of his enemies as he takes his woman after the battle,.

Suddenly, I’m up on the table with her, still fucking her, my bloody fingers still wrapped around her throat, kissing her with everything I have as she explodes beneath me and screams my name into my mouth, her pussy clamping down around my cock.

With a final groan, I bite her lip and pump rope after rope of hot cum into her as she clings to me, kissing me madly.

.

Not deranged at all.

I dream about chasing you all the time.

Be heard,

-Me

26

MILENA

For part of the night,I have nightmares.

Floods of red blood. Muffled screams and a twisting, macabre mask of death.

But then the scenes of horror fade, and the darkness morphs into something different that sends an aching throb into my core. The shadows twist, hands and fingers and tongues materializing out of the blackness to caress, touch and lick.

Pleasure tingles over my skin and tightens between my legs. Needy hunger pulses through me, centering on my clit as I writhe and whimper, concentrating on the feeling between my thighs even as I gasp for more.

My eyes flutter open, and the shadows dissipate into morning sunlight filtering through the drawn curtains.

It all comes back: the basement at Greymoor. The blood. The sex. The madness.

I know now—know, without a doubt—that there’s something wrong with me. I didn’t justnot fightNero when he fucked me in front of Leo.

Icravedit. Not just the sex, but the leering, snarling darkness that came with it. Stepping into Nero's madness, seeing the world through the lens of his viciousness, made me so fucking wet that I should hate myself for it.

I don’t.

Maybe it should feel weird that I watched him kill someone last night right in front of me. That I watched someone die.

But there’s just this sense of relief.

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