Page 58 of Envy


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My tongue licks at the soft skin over Evie’s thrumming pulse, my cock twitching as she shivers. The sun has been up for an hour now, but her eyes are closed, lashes fluttering with dreams I wish I could see. I took her rough last night. And this morning. The blood from her sweet little cunt is everywhere, staining the sheets, smearing her thighs, her breasts, the beautiful fucking curves of her ass I’m staring at now.

There are bruises too. Most from my teeth, but some from where I held her down, open for me as I fucked and filled her up with my cum over and over again until even my orgasms were painful. One of her legs is bent as she sleeps on her stomach, exposing the sticky mix of our orgasms. It slicks the inside of her thighs even now, her hair mussed and wild around her shoulders.

I draw back, returning to the canvas I’ve set up at the foot of the bed, and settle on a rose-colored pink. The gentle highlight will contrast with the scarlet smears while bringing out the purples on her skin, revealing every place my mouth touched last night. Normally, I’d spend days on a single painting,but I want to capture this moment—to sear every sacred second into a tangible piece of art I can cherish forever.

Switching brushes, my motions grow more frenzied. Pale creams blend into the perfect curve of her spine; dark burgundies and deep reds twist and weave into the picture of her hair. Streaks of white, soiled by red, represent the sheets beneath my little fox. The gentle slope of her nose, the splash of freckles across her skin, the thick lashes and dried tears along her cheeks—and then it’s time to finish my masterpiece.

A new color is needed. I crawl over her, running my fingers along the maimed flesh of her beautiful ass before thrusting them into her used cunt. Her back arches as she whimpers, lifting her ass as I pump my fingers, curling them before pulling back. Unable to help myself, I lean down, licking up the fresh mess I made before pressing a gentle kiss to her pussy.

“Soon, my love. But you can sleep for a little longer.”

Her eyes stay closed, breathing steady, as I add the pink tint of her bleeding pussy to my palette. I reach for the tube of rich scarlet, squeezing a heavy amount onto the tray and mix it with her blood and cum. Indigo and a deep blue are next, then the brush is moving again, layering her porcelain skin with my touch. With bites and bruises, with hickeys and blood smears—in crazed, careful strokes.

It’s almost like I’m there again, thrusting between her thighs, pulling her hair, gripping her throat as I rocked on top of her. Fucked her without mercy, just the way she likes.

I’m panting by the time it’s done, startled out of my frenzied state by Evie’s soft voice.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, her eyes still glazed with sleep. She’s pushed herself into a sitting position, not bothering to cover her chest with the sheet, and I realize I like her like this. Love that she feels comfortable enough not to hide.

That word rattles around in my mind, knocking down wallsI’d long since built.Crash,crash,crashgoes my sanity. My invincibility. Relinquished at the feet of the woman in front of me.

“You’re beautiful,” I say. Setting the brush down, I wipe the splatter of paint from my fingers onto my sweats before closing the distance between us to capture her swollen lips in a kiss. “Good morning, little fox. How did you sleep?”

Such a mundane question, and yet I want to know. Because I want to know everything about her.

“Wonderful,” she says, her bright eyes peering up at me before pulling me down for another brush of our lips.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, running my hand down her back, the pads of my fingers tracing patterns along the outside of her hip.

“Sore,” she admits with a sheepish shrug. “But I think that’s normal after everything, right?”

“Nothing about last night was normal, Evie.” A sinister chuckle rumbles in my chest as I lean down, trailing kisses over each and every bruise. My mouth closes around her nipple, lapping gently as she sucks in a breath before I sink to my knees, following the trail of carnage down her stomach.

“Nothing between us will ever benormal.” Taking my time, I part her legs, kissing every injury on her battered skin until she’s shivering.

“What are you doing?” she asks, squirming when I reach the soft curls between her thighs.

I allow my tongue to graze her clit, flicking across the sensitive flesh with lazy licks, as if I have all the time in the world to explore her. Only when her breasts are swollen, nipples hard with want, do I answer.

“Taking my breakfast in bed. Lay back, little fox. I’m starving.”

38

EVIE

Silas makes me come twice more before carrying me to the en suite. He sets me down on the shower bench and turns on the water, waiting for it to warm. Only when the air is steaming around us, does he angle the spout, allowing for the gentle patter of water to soothe my aching body.

“There’s a bath inside the house,” he says, dragging a sponge that smells like him across my breasts as he kneels on the tiles. That wicked smirk of his is back, tugging at my heart. “But I thought you’d want to wash before we risk running into anyone.”

“Yes,” I confirm with my own shy smile, watching as he wipes away a particularly heavy smear of blood across my lower stomach. Dried blood that confirms I’m no longer a virgin.

I thought I’d feel different. Like I’d sense my soul being slotted for eternal damnation, or that God would send a lightning bolt and strike me down for all to see. In my darkest nightmares, I dreamed a branded letter would appear on my breast, probably from that book where the townspeople ostracized an unwed woman for getting pregnant. But as I watch Silas—his dark hair wet, his toned skin beaded with water andbranded with tattoos as he cleans me with something akin to worship—I know I’ll never regret last night.

I’d choose to lay my body down for him again and again. To submit to his will, his rule, because Silas’s devotion to me is absolute. Maybe I did sell my soul to the devil, but if the promised heaven doesn’t have him by my side, I don’t want it.

So I choose this life—this eternity—of love and delicious, beautiful darkness.

I hiss when the sponge dips lower, parting my thighs for Silas’s ministrations. He’s gentle as he works, but I can see how his eyes dilate, how his cock is still hard from licking me earlier.