Page 58 of Cursed
I lean down, my lips brushing against Sadie’s ear. “Captivated by them, little butterfly? I didn’t take you for a voyeur.”
Her quick intake of breath tells me everything I need to know. I can see her mind working and analyzing her own physiological response, trying to rationalize the heat flooding her body at the sight of Cora surrounded by her hunters.
I trace my fingertips along Sadie’s spine as she trembles on my lap, still impaled on my cock. Her inner walls continue to pulse around me, milking every last drop I’ve pumped into her throughout the feast. The knowledge that my seed is marking her from the inside feeds the dark beast within.
“Such a good girl,” I murmur against her ear, giving a subtle upward thrust that makes her gasp. “Sitting here so pretty while you’re filled with my cum.”
She squirms, trying to maintain her composure as Xavier continues to address the room. I slide my hand around to her stomach, pressing gently.
“I wonder how many times I’ve marked you during the feast? Two? Three? I’ve lost count.” I nip at her earlobe, feeling her clench around me again.
A server approaches our table and bows. “The women are requested to follow me to prepare for the claiming ceremony.”
I see Elliot rise from his seat across the room, his face impassive as always. He’ll accompany them as hunter turned prey.
“That’s your cue,” I whisper, lifting Sadie. I feel my release sliding out of her as I withdraw, coating her thighs. “But don’t clean up. I want you to feel me dripping down your legs while they prepare you.”
Her cheeks flush crimson as I help her to her feet. She wobbles, her legs unsteady after hours on my lap.
“Go,” I command, giving her ass a light smack. “The orgy room awaits us for the claiming.”
Sadie’s eyes widen, concern flashing across her face. The look is unmistakable—apprehension about being claimed for an entire year. I deliberately ignore her expression, turning away as if I hadn’t noticed. Her concerns are irrelevant. The Hollow’s Hunt merely formalized what I already knew from the moment I first set eyes on her.
I’ve never claimed prey for the full year before. Never found one worthy of keeping beyond the obligatory week of pleasure. Most women bore me quickly—their minds too simple, their bodies too eager to please, their spirits too easily broken.
Monica was different, though not in the way Sadie is. I didn’t formally claim Monica beyond the initial week, but I couldn’t let her go. Her resistance fascinated me—her stubborn refusal to fully submit. I became obsessed with breaking her, not from connection but from curiosity. How much pressure could she take before cracking? What method would finally shatter her will?
Unfortunately, Xavier stepped in then, relocating her to some distant location where she could rebuild her life away from me, and I never learned the answer.
But with Sadie... everything is different. My obsession isn’t about breaking her but possessing her—mind, body, and that brilliant analytical brain that first drew me in. The care I’ve developed for her surprises me. I want to own her, yes, but I also want to watch her flourish under my authority.
I catch Xavier’s knowing look from across the room. Perhaps he’s remembering Monica, too. But Sadie isn’t Monica. My intentions are nothing like before.
We all stand and gather in the orgy room. There isn’t a single remnant of the earlier debauchery that took place in the chamber. The linens, pillows, and accessories have been replaced with fresh ones. The scent of sweat and sex—gone.
I adjust my white mask, making sure it sits perfectly against my face while we wait for the women to return from their preparations.
Vane stalks around the room like a caged animal, his green mask in place. He pauses near me, cocking his head to one side.
“Well, look at you,” he says, voice dripping with mockery. “I’ve never seen you be so fucking tame with a woman before.”
I ignore him, focusing instead on checking the restraints built into the central dais where I’ll claim Sadie.
“Seriously, brother,” Vane continues, unwilling to let it go. “Where’s all the blood? You’re usually painting the walls red by now.”
My jaw clenches tight enough to crack teeth. He’s right, of course. The women I’ve hunted before have always left wearing my marks—serious bite wounds, knife wounds, bruises that bloomed like violets across their skin. I’ve always taken pleasure in drawing blood, in watching it bead across flesh I’ve claimed.
“Did she domesticate you already? Turn the monster into a house pet?” Vane prods, circling me now. “I had my prey suspended from the ceiling for hours. What did you do with yours? Read her bedtime stories?”
“Fuck off,” I growl.
His observation unsettles me because it’s true.
With Sadie, the urge to mark her violently didn’t surface. I’ve left bruises, yes, and bites, but nothing like the damage I typically inflict. My usual desire to see crimson rivulets streaming down pale skin simply didn’t manifest. Instead, I wanted to consume her in other ways—to possess her mind as thoroughly as her body.
Knox chuckles from where he’s lounging on a nearby chaise. “Leave him alone, Vane. Maybe he’s evolving.”
“Or devolving,” Vane counters.
