Ethan
Something settled in my chest when she shook her head.
She still held my hand. I thought about why she’d done it—why she’d picked up the scalpel and taken Gareth apart like it was nothing, why she’d told me to insure my hands.
It hadn’t occurred to me that she’d been paying that kind of attention.
It hadn't occurred to me that after only a few days, Anne would think to protect something of mine.
I raised her hand to my mouth. The blood had begun to dry. I pressed my lips against her knuckles and held them there.
The room was bright and very still. Gareth’s muffled sounds came and went in the background, and from Eva’s cage, the occasional wet noise that I’d stopped registering.
Anne smiled and looked away. A faint colour in her cheeks, almost shy—as though caring for someone was something she’d been caught doing.
The voice said nothing.
I turned her hand over in mine.
Someone could care about me. Not the version I performed for the rest of the world, buttoned-up and bloodless, but this—the dark monster that lived beneath the flesh and bone.
Someone like Anne Selbourne.
“No one’s protected me quite so fiercely before,” I joked, raising my head.
“Call it professional courtesy,” she said, glancing up to meet my eyes before she looked away, unable to hold my gaze.
“Do you know why I gave you the knives?” I drawled, sliding my hand down the front of her see-through lingerie.
Her breath hitched, and her eyes snapped back to me.
“Why?” she whispered.
“For your craft,” I said, smoothing my fingers between her thighs. “For your protection.”
She rocked her hips, thighs clamping down to trap my hand in place. I brushed my fingertips along her wet heat, then eased two fingers into her tight little pussy, feeling her soak them as her breasts rose and fell.
I leaned in close, whispering in her ear.
“I’m going to lower the table. You’ll bend over Gareth while I fuck this tight little cunt. You’re going to put your face where his dick was, and you’ll only come when you’re covered in his blood.”
“Pass me the scalpel,” she said, raising her hand.
“No tools.”
Gareth groaned loudly—no doubt in protest. Neither of us looked at him.
It was already too late for him. I could see it in her eyes—she’d accepted the challenge.
His crying was perfect, a symphony of fear that made my pulse thrum.
I pulled my fingers from her cunt, slick and glistening under the operating lights, and lifted them between us.
Her lips parted before I even touched them, and she leaned in, swallowing them whole, her tongue swirling slow and deliberate.
My cock twitched hard against my shorts.
Those blue eyes—once dull, once dangerously bored—burned now, sharp and alive.
Her hand slipped beneath my waistband, fingers wrapping tight around me, stroking from base to tip.
I could feel the heat of her palm, the way my cock pulsed, the bead of precum already forming for her.
I peeled the straps of her top down, baring her breasts, my hands rough against her skin. “Give him something pretty to look at,” I murmured, squeezing her flesh.
“Your generosity astounds me, Doctor.”
She had no idea what it took for me to let her out of my basement. What it took to let her into my life. My awkward attempts to court girls my age at uni hadn’t gone well—too gullible and green for their cruel games.
Anne was too proud to play games. Too homicidally inclined to waste time on duplicity. She never shied away from her needs.
I’d have responded, but she was pumping her hand up and down my cock. She wasn’t uncertain, and she wasn’t gentle. Like me, she was all in.
I lunged for her, gripping her nape while I devoured her mouth. Her crazed blue eyes closed as she hooked her hand around the back of my neck. Neither of us cared about air as our lips, teeth and tongue greedily tried to swallow the other.
She kept her hand on the tip of my cock, working me until she’d coated her fingers with my own precum. I moaned into her mouth, licking along the inside of her lips before swirling my tongue around hers.
I felt inebriated by her alone.
Anne.
My Anne.
“Turn around and hold onto that sack of shit while I fuck you,” I growled against her wet lips. “While I fuck my cum into that tight little hole of yours.”
Her lips tugged at one corner, and she pulled her hand out of my shorts to turn around, presenting me with her lush little arse and my choice of holes for the night. Not because I owned her, or because she was prey, but because she was exactly where she wanted to be.
“There, there,” she murmured, false platitudes, as she gripped his arm.
I moved to adjust the table, lowering it enough to ensure she was bent at the right height, her weight settling over his wound.
Nothing had ever been this perfect in my basement, and over the years, I’d excelled at torturing others.
But the absolute best part was having Gareth strapped to my table, castrated by Anne when only days ago he’d been inside her. Now he was hollowed out, a man who finally understood what it meant to be powerless.
I pressed my palm to the small of her back, felt the heat of her through the thin lace. My fingers found her, slick and swollen, and I dragged them upward, slow and deliberate, until she arched against me with a sharp inhale.
The giggle that followed was dark and breathless, the kind of sound that settled into my bones like a drug. She pushed back, grinding against my hand, her hips rolling in a rhythm that made my pulse roar.
The black soul that had always been too much—too violent, too broken, too wrong—suddenly felt like it had found its match.
I worked her in slow circles, my fingers slick with her, until her thighs trembled and her breath came in ragged gasps. Only then did I shove my shorts down, the fabric catching on my hips before pooling at my ankles.
She turned her head, her cheek smeared with Gareth’s blood—thick, dark, still warm—and when our eyes met, I saw the future in hers. The day she’d press a blade to my throat and I’d let her, because there was no other way I’d rather go.
I lifted the lace, bunching it around her waist, and dragged the tip of my cock through her folds.
Back and forth, I teased until her gasps grew louder and I had to pin her hips against the edge of the table to stop her from impaling herself on me.
Unfortunately for Gareth, he took the brunt of her frustration when she sank her teeth into his flesh, a low growl vibrating in her throat.
I rewarded her by sinking into her, watching her pussy swallow my length. I pressed my thumb to the wrinkled star of her arsehole, massaging small circles until she gasped my name.
“Ethan. Ethan. Ethan,” she sighed, devotion in her voice unlike anything I’d heard before.