Chapter 16
BILLY
Sickly sweet perfume floods my nostrils, strong and overwhelming, making my nose twitch. My forearm is barred across her throat, my other above her head, bracketing her in as I press my body against hers.
She squirms beneath me, her cheeks reddening with the loss of breath, but she still stares up at me, trying to flutter her lashes over bulging blue eyes.
And she’s still trying to fucking talk.
“Come on, baby,” she croaks out, turning her head to the side, gasping for a breath not deep enough to really breathe, but clearly, even a lack of oxygen won’t deter her. “You know how good I can be.”
Head tilted just slightly, I lift a single brow, my upper lip lifting on the same side in a curl of disgust.
I don’t know how good she can be.
And I don’t want to find out.
“Imogen,” I say quietly, leaning in, my lips brushing her cheek, “I told you no once before.”
I pull back just slightly, my arm still applying too much pressure to her windpipe, yet she still wriggles beneath me like she thinks we’re playing some sort of game.
Like she thinks letting me do this to her will put ideas in my head of all the ways I could fuck her.
When in reality, I’m wondering how much harder I’d have to press to snap her fucking neck.
“So I’m only going to say this once more, nicely.”
“You don’t have to be nice to me,” she smiles, her red lipstick smudging as she rubs her mouth against my arm in an attempt to turn back to face me fully, my hold on her not quite allowing it.
“I’m a bad girl; I can take it.” She licks over her top teeth, pushing her chest out, her breasts pressing against my bare chest, my black button-up shirt hanging open.
“You can hurt me and I’ll like it.” She smiles again, too many teeth to be sincere, and I think about removing them one by one.
A different technique for every tooth.
I wonder if Nellie would like to help.
“Your desperation is even stronger than your perfume,” I tell her nonchalantly with a sniff, tilting my head down, seeing her work uniform dishevelled, a white button missing two down from the top, her skirt ruffled, hiked up on one side.
I frown, realising what that means, where she was, who she was with, before she came here tonight. What she might have been doing when I found her in here ‘cleaning’.
He’s back.
I lift my gaze back to hers, glaring as I look at her.
“Thank you,” she giggles, pretending not to understand my insult at all, but she’s a smart woman, she’d have to be to survive this long, so I know she knows it was a jibe. She glances over my shoulder, smiling again before looking back at me, “I-”
My ears ring, my entire body automatically dropping down into a crouch as a hole blasts through the wooden door we’re leaning against. I dart behind the sofa, pressed up on my toes in a low crouch, making sure I’m away from the door.
I look up at the hole, a mere inch from where my head was, the wood like a comic book ‘kapow’ speech bubble shape.
Imogen’s screaming somewhere to my left, but I don’t give a fuck, shaking her off of me when she flings herself at me, grabbing for my arm.
“Shut the fuck up!” I spit at her, unable to hear myself, trying to get my bearings from my position behind the couch when another shot fires.
This time it fires right into the fucking chair at my back, and that’s when I realise where it’s coming from.
Inside of this fucking room.
I’m standing up without giving it another thought, striding right up to Penelope and grabbing the barrel of the gun, a little warm from where she just tried to fucking shoot me.
“Little Lamb,” I say smiling, the metal of the Glock feeling warmer inside my palm, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
She smiles up at me, a slow bat of her lashes over the creamiest dark brown eyes I’ve ever seen, and she steps in close, eradicating the distance between us.
The silk of her nightgown tickling against the exposed skin of my abdomen causing a slight shiver to roll through me.
She lifts the gun, my gun, higher, digging the muzzle into the centre of my forehead, my dick instantly growing hard, balls tightening, a different sort of feeling races through my veins.
And I think about fucking her, letting her keep this gun pressed right up to my skull as I ram my fucking dick inside her, slap her tit, bite her neck, dig my fingertips into her arse cheeks so hard she can’t sit down for a week on anything but my cock.
The look in her eyes, a swirling vortex of madness and lunacy, hate and anger, a little drop of fear, all of it making her look just a little bit insane.
It only makes my blood heat hotter, my cock weep with desperation to get to her, feel her tight walls squeeze around my length, soak my balls with her desire.
But a screeching noise at my back, something that sounds like a strangled ferret, shatters my thoughts, crushing my next move before I can even attempt it.
“Billy!” Imogen squawks, “do something! Are you going to let her get away wit-”
“Get the fuck out!” I roar at her, not bothering to turn my head, my eyes remaining on Nellie’s, her anger pulsing through her entire body, thrumming down her arm, the emotion so strong I can feel it all the way down the barrel of the gun.
“But-”
“Get the fuck out, Imogen, or I’ll be the one using the gun.”
The door opens and slams closed at my back without further hesitation, leaving us in silence.
Nothing but Penelope’s rapid heartbeat, her quickened breath, can be heard in the room.
My excitement palpable, I can’t stop the smile curling my lips, a dimple divoting my cheek, “Hello, Penelope.”
I reach up, stroking a strand of long dark hair behind her ear, a tremble rocking through her as my knuckle brushes her cheek.
I bring my face down to her level, the gun staying on me, the hammer of the weapon now almost touching her head where I’ve killed all space between us, her hand held up in an awkward position, she couldn’t shoot now even if she tried.
“You doing okay there, Little Lamb?” I ask her in a teasing whisper, a soft smile still on my mouth. I lean in closer, bent forward enough to put us face to face, the gun between us, “You jealous, baby girl?”
She smiles back, but it’s not a nice smile, it’s something devious and sharp, something meant to cut. She says nothing, still smiling, and I lick my lips, pressing my own head harder against the gun, it makes her hand tremble, but she doesn’t move.
“You’re so fucking hot when you want to kill me.”
She smiles wider, unnervingly, but I don’t back off, don’t give her any space, but I can feel her shaking with anger, like a warning to do just that.
“You going to shoot me, Little Lamb?” I ask her with a hint of mocking, a little bit of want and fear both rolled into it too.
Nellie breathes in deep, cocking her head, tongue licking over her rose-tinted lips, the tip of it catching the base of the weapon in her hand, her smile drops, her eyes staying on mine, “No,” she replies calmly, voice soft.
“I don’t want to shoot you,” she tells me honestly. “But I do want to kill you.”
Her smile’s back, and this time I want to lick it off of her mouth, force my tongue down her throat and suck out her heart, feast on it and then force my own inside her empty chest cavity just so she can never leave me, a piece of me forever in her.
“Do it,” I dare her, my smile wide, brows lifted.
“I would love to feel you take me apart,” I lick my own lips, flicking my tongue over my canine, my fingers combing through the length of her hair, my other hand coming up, resting gently on her throat, applying a light testing squeeze.
“Piece by tiny piece,” I whisper, dragging out the words, crossing my eyes to look up at the gun digging into the centre of my skull.
“Don’t you want to make me hurt, baby girl? ”
She shoves the gun at me, smacking the barrel into my head, forcing me backwards, my back foot catching on the edge of the rug, sending me down hard to the floor.
Air knocks out of my lungs as I grab hold of Penelope on my way down, her silk covered body slamming on top of me.
The gun still in her hand, she rears up, straddling me, repositioning the gun to my forehead, arms straight, elbows locked.
Hair strewn across her face, she blows at it, strands still in her eye, but she stills.
Suddenly feeling my hardness between her legs.
Slowly, a single brow lifting, she stares at me in disbelief, making me chuckle, a low dark raspy sound, “Ohhh, Little Lamb, it’s like you don’t know me at all.
” With one quick motion, I flip our positions, cradling the back of her head as her body thuds against the floor, me straddling her now, a smile still on my mouth.
“If I don’t do a good job here, you have permission to shoot me. ”
“I don’t need your fucking permission,” she quips back venomously, a spitting hiss on her tongue like hot wax hitting cold stone, but I hear it in her voice, the want, a secret she can’t quite keep.
“No, you’re right,” I hum in agreement, my hands sliding from their splayed position on the floor either side of her head up to her waist, her arms lifted still, extended straight, gun to my head. “You don’t.”
I dive down, my tongue finding her Pairing mark like I’m called to it, my hands shoving her silk covering up to her waist, baring more of her to the cold air of the room.
I bite across her chest, nibbling her collarbones, laving the flat of my tongue down the valley of her breasts, exposed in the deep V-neck cut of her strappy nightdress, the tip of my nose following the wet trail, when she slides the barrel down the length of my nose, over my lips, tapping it beneath my chin, forcing my head up.
“You really think I’m going to let you touch me when you smell like her, Billy?” she snarls, lip curled. “You think I would ever let you touch another woman and get away with it?”