“You love when I’m like this,” Silas purrs, torturing my other breast before tracing patterns down my stomach. “Isn’t that right?”
“No.” I shake my head, the movement small beneath the grip he keeps on my neck.
“Tsk,” he pouts. “You can lie to the world all you want, my Evie, but the beautiful way you’re rubbing your cunt all over me says otherwise.”
My breathing hitches as I look down, shame zapping through me when I realize he’s right. I’ve been grinding against his knee. Silas jerks my chin back up, forcing me to meet his gaze. All the green is nearly gone, replaced by a blackness so cold I almost flinch.
“If I forced you into the dirt and spread your thighs, stuffing your cunt with my cock, would you beg me to stop?” His palm cups my pussy, two fingers sliding through the slick mess between my thighs before thrusting inside me. “Or plead for more?”
I cry out at the intrusion, hating how my arousal fills the air between us. A sick part of me enjoys the violation. Silas does something to me. Forces me to experience and acknowledge and fuckingfeel—to be awake in an existence that has only ever existed in my dreams. He pushes me to admit truths that I’ve denied myself, too fearful of the eternal evil promised should I succumb to their appeal.
The concept of morality may be one I’m trying to outgrow, but it’s like teasing out the thorns of a cactus. Some barbs are so deeply embedded in my skin that it feels like I have to slice away pieces of my flesh just to be rid of them.
But Silas…
He has me welcoming the stab, craving the sharp points and bleeding wounds, because for the first time, my heart isfeelingrather than simply beating.
Blood heats my cheeks as I rock against his fingers, searching for the perfect friction to grant me the salvation I’m so desperate for. His hold tightens around my neck, restricting air. My vision swims, hands gripping his forearm, but I don’t pull away. Don’t try to stop him.
“I could hold you here, suspended between life and death forever if I wanted to.” Silas drags his nose up the curve of my throat, licking away the tears staining my cheeks. “I could use your sweet pussy or tight hole, fill up each with my cum, then make you lick my cock clean. And you would love every moment of it.”
I want to deny it, to tell him he’s delusional, but my pussy clenches around his fingers. The haze of reality tilts as he continues his punishing pace, causing my vision to grow dark.I’m floating in a delirious cloud of ecstasy. Thoughts, sounds, feelings—everything vanishing except Silas’s palm grinding against my clit, pushing me to the edge.
Just as I start to fall, he withdraws.
I stumble forward, gasping for air, but the relief of breathing is nothing compared to the painful need twisting between my thighs.
“You don’t get to come, Evie.” Silas looks down at me, the blackness of his eyes matching the color of his soul. “Not when I can still smell another man on you.”
Tears prick my eyes, humiliation spilling freely down my cheeks as I drop my head. I shouldn’t even want this psychopath. Thismurderer. From the moment we met, Silas has been honest about being a deranged monster. I just didn’t believe him.
Silas may have the body of a god—bronzed skin and inked muscle—but he’s a beast. A demon sent to show me how beautiful the darkness can be. And like a willing sacrifice, I laid my body upon the alter, desperate to be claimed—only for him to decide I’m not worthy.
Strong arms scoop me up, setting me on the motorcycle with a softness so at odds with the rest of him. I allow him to adjust the leather jacket that smells like him, zipping it up before tucking me in close. The engine hums to life beneath me as a cool detachment settles over my soul.
“Your punishment is done, little fox,” Silas says through our helmets, a gloved hand pressing me back against his chest as we start down the canyon. But as we turn onto the highway, with my thighs trembling and pussy aching with need, I know my sentence has only just begun.
20
SILAS
Evie thinks I don’t know what she’s been doing, but my little fox isn’t as stealthy as she believes. I hear her stirring in the early hours each morning, and then tiptoeing past my room when she returns. As if every fiber of my being doesn’t know when she’s nearby. I feel everything she does, am aware of her every passing second. Her fluttering heartbeat, the delicious spikes of fear and shame mixed with her cunt’s sweet arousal—all of itmine.
She was so beautiful coming apart on my bike. Evie may look like a chaste angel, but I see the dark, twisted parts of my little virgin begging to be used. To be fucked and filled so thoroughly with my cum that she’ll never be able to erase the scent of me. She’s all I think about. Even now, with the moon high and the demons inside me at their strongest, she’s all I see.
Chest heaving, I step back, studying the angry slashes of color, thick globs of paint splitting the canvas. A skeleton crafted of dark greens and midnight blacks wraps bony fingers around sparks of light. Caging it. I switch brushes, turning to the palette of bronzed reds and fierce yellows, and let the paint guide me. Each layer adds to her image, uncovering hersoul trapped in the arms of mine. But when it’s done, she’s not running away as expected—she’s gazing up at me.
The brush falls from my fingers, staining the rug beneath my feet, but I’m already down the hall, turning up the stairs. Stars shine bright, casting soft shadows across the wooden landing. And then I’m there, pushing her door open.
Cotton sheets ruffle, her perfect fucking leg peeking out as her body twists. Her mind is whirling beneath those closed lashes, her breathing coming in short bursts. I wonder if she’s dreaming of me. Because she’s been haunting every corner of my mind since the moment she showed up.
Her big brown eyes and wine-colored hair are seared into the back of my mind. The way her skin blushes when she comes, those needy little sounds she makes when she’s close—I want to feel her clenching around me as she bounces on my cock, see the moment she realizes I own her, body and soul. I shouldn’t still be thinking of her—shouldn’t be standing at the edge of her bed watching her sleep—but I can’t seem to get her poison out of my veins.
Evie mutters something too soft to hear. I’m moving before I can think better of it, brushing back the hair along her cheek, streaking gold paint through red strands. There’s something insidious about her. The enticing shadows she tries to keep locked away call out to me, pleading for release.
She hasn’t snitched. I murdered that fucker right in front of her, and she still let me catch her. Let me stuff her pussy with my fingers as I gripped her throat, yielding control of her life to me. Evie loves when I take her choice away—not that she’ll admit it.
But I can’t give in. Irritation pricks the back of my neck, warning me away from my latest fixation. That night in the canyon with Mark almost cost me everything. It was sloppy, killing him before Noctis confirmed the information. Turns out he was telling the truth, but if he hadn’t been, years of trackingmy sister down would’ve been for nothing. I could’ve lost Morana forever.
