Page 108 of Fragile Facade
Blood coats his hand, dripping down his scarred and tattooed forearm all the way to his elbow, and still, he doesn’t look away from me. Fuck, he’s mine.He. Is. Mine.Has a man ever looked hotter than he looks right now? Hair dishevelled, body muscled and coiled, eyes riotous, and demeanour calm. He might murder with ease, but one move from me and his casual grace will snap in half as animalistic savagery barrels through.
And that’s my very own power to hold on to. The power to wield this man however I choose.
Death is still here. She’s watching, admiring me for defying her for so long and thanking me for bringing her to this show. She has a soul to take with her, and as Tim hits the grass, the weight of the Sauder curse rises from my pores, leaving me as nothing but the Ghost of Moros and Killian’sjust in case.
The night stills, my family stops breathing. Killian grips the knife he used, but he steps over Tim’s corpse and flings it to the ground, the point sticking into the lawn. My thighs clench harder than my stomach, and my throat dries, so thirsty for him I can’t even swallow.
“The curse is lifted!” someone shouts. “I feel it! Oh my god, I can feel it lifting!”
“Thanks to him!”
“Killian Hallows!”
But I fling my own dagger at my uncle, glaring at him as Killian steps closer to me. “Don’t say his fucking name,” I snarl, pointing at him. “He’s mine.”
“Leave,” Killian seethes, eyes on mine.
I don’t know where they go or if they stay, but when Killian gets to me, my last speck of restraint shreds, and I give in to my base needs.
Death. Desire. Despair. They all come from Killian now.
39
FUCK YOU, DEATH
RIOT
When Soren’shand goes down my pants and his teeth bite my neck, I look at the sky and revel in my earned status.That’s right, sweetheart. Deny it all you want, but I am your god, and the way you worship me proves it.He’s all over me, needy and uncoordinated, and I’ve never seen him so desperate before. It feeds my ego and amplifies my murder high, turning me into a chasm of ominous power I know he can withstand.
But the neighbouring lights are on, and there have already been too many murders on this property. My mom. My dad. Brady. Tim Sauder.
Four deaths with impeccable purpose. Four deaths to advancemyplot.
I push him out of sight, forcing him into the shadows at the side of the house. His back slams against the siding, and the groan that comes out of his throat is purely guttural, unhinged because he lets it slip out instead of tamping it down. His glassy eyes flash in the reflection of a streetlamp, and his lips shine with spit, chest heaving and heart hammering. We’re making music again, and this time, it’s a fucking ode to me.
“Show me,” he demands breathlessly. “You killed my cousin. Fucking show me what all this death chasing got me, Killian! Show me you!”
I spin him around and grip the back of his head, holding his face pressed to the siding. He snarls at me, but there’s a laugh in it that makes my cock firm up even more. I love him when he’s insane, and there’s no sanity left in him tonight.
It turns cruel, an evil cackle. “You’re pathetic! You just ended my curse because you’re fucking possessive, and now you can’t even take what you fucking claimed.”
Fury burns. No one questions my authority but me. Iamhis god. His devil. His deity.
I pin him in place, lips by his ear as I undo his belt with one hand. “And you’re the desperate attention whore finally begging for what you want.” I rip his belt free and force his wrists behind his back, strapping them together with a technique Menace taught me.
“Pathetic,” he laughs again. “Know you can’t handle me so you have to?—”
I kick the back of his knees and force him to kneel. Lording my strength over him, my chest vibrates and my stomach clenches, ready to make this man I love my slave for the night. He wants me to show him what all this death chasing got him? This is it.
Because his curse doesn’t own him anymore, I do.
Soren hisses when I rip his pants down below his ass, and he curses when I slam his face off the side of the house to bend him over more. I rip his shirt to shreds and toss it aside, needing to see all of him. Unable to restrain myself, I smack his perfect ass, ready to ruin it by turning it red and raw. I smack it again, watching colour bloom on his pale ass cheek. My aversion to red skin is demolished by how well he wears it.
He groans, trying to hide a whimper, but it turns to a necessitous moan when I bend over and spit, letting it fall down his crack. Biting my lip into my mouth to watch my spit slide down, I bend, running my fingers through it to press it to his tight hole. So pink. So firm. So thoroughly mine.
Using the hand that isn’t coated in his cousin’s blood, I push my saliva inside him with one finger, feeling the way he clenches around me. He’s so warm compared to the cool night air, but when he whimpers for real, I burn hotter than he does. I add a second finger, spitting again to fuck it into his ass. Soren’s forehead thumps against the siding and his ass presses back against my hand, stoking my fire.
“You my sweetheart now?”
