Chapter Eleven
The water strips away the blood, but it doesn’t touch the hunger grinding through me, not even close.
She’s in my shower. In my bathroom. In my bedroom. Naked.
I pull on black sweatpants, the fabric low on my hips, and drag the mask over my face.
She already has my name, and the second I heard it leave her lips, my cock was already pushing against the zipper.
Even the memory of blood on my hands and the weight of an eyeball in my palm couldn’t take it down.
She’s taking too long. One more minute and I’ll rip that door open and drag her out dripping.
I drop onto the couch in the corner, legs spread, leaning back shirtless while the room swells with the scent of the soap tangled with burning wax of the candles, and I wait.
The bathroom door opens and the candlelight flickers against the walls, shadows shifting over the bed.
She steps out in my shirt, damp black hair spilling over her shoulders, water droplets sliding down the cotton and clinging against her thighs.
Her eyes find me first, and her breathing changes, her chest lifts higher, faster beneath the fabric.
“So you like sitting in the dark?” she says, arms folding across her chest.
I don’t answer.
“Did you shower with the mask on?” Her gaze roams from my face to my chest, lingering on the pull of muscle, and the hard line of veins along my forearms.
“You’re still standing.”
Her brow furrows. “What does that mean?”
I let the silence stretch, spread my legs wider, my voice sinking low. “Show me how much of a good girl you can be.” My arms stretch across the back of the couch, a space waiting for her between my thighs.
She stays where she is, staring at me.
“On your knees, hellcat.” The growl comes from deep in my chest.
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink.
“Take your mask off,” she pushes back.
My mouth curves under the fabric. “Do as you’re told, and you can remove it yourself.” My gaze moves over every inch of her: the shape of her hips under the shirt, the hem brushing high against her thighs, the warm glow of her skin in the candlelight.
“Now, Tamsin,” I order and she drops to her knees without another word, legs parting just enough, one hand tugging the shirt lower between her thighs.
Her cheeks heat, and she says nothing.
“Now crawl to me.”
I wait for her to bite back, to throw some little verbal blade my way but she doesn’t, her mouth curves instead and she leans forward. Her ass lifts, the hem of my shirt slipping forward showing just enough bare skin to drive me insane.
She moves, every shift of her hips, every bend of her limbs, is provocative, a predator making the prey believe they have control.
My jaw tightens, cock strains against the thin fabric of my pants, already aching.
My eyes drag over her, taking in the rise of her body, the sway of her movement, the faint brush of her breasts under the cotton.
I spread my legs wider, making space and she closes the distance, stopping between my thighs before sinking back onto her heels. Her hands settle between her knees in silent offering.
What she doesn’t realize is that I gave myself to her the moment I watched her cut her first victim’s balls off.
“Such a good girl,” I growl. “Pull it off.”
I brace my forearms on my knees, eyes falling shut for a breath, waiting for the moment her fingers take what no one else has ever had.
“Are you sure?” she whispers, softer now.
“I am.” My hands curl into the fabric of my sweatpants, holding steady.
Her fingers skim the edge of my mask, brushing my skin before she begins to lift past my chin, my mouth, my nose, then finally over my eyes. Her breath catches, her gaze locks to mine, and I see the impact hit her.
“Eiden.” My name falls from her lips in a smile, pupils wide, mouth parting. “You’re beautiful.”
A slow grin spreads across my face, a chuckle rumbling from my chest. “Beautiful, huh? I was going for dangerous.”
Her teeth catch her bottom lip. “Your eyes… they’re the color of a storm.”
“Come here, hellcat.”
I pull her up onto me, her thighs sliding around my waist until she’s straddling me. Heat radiates from her bare pussy, burning through the thin barrier of my pants and straight into my cock.
“You’re mine now,” I tell her, my voice dropping into something dark enough to bind. “You know that. Don’t you?”
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t break her stare. “Your darkness. Your violence. It completes me, and I’ll go to the end of hell to protect that.”
Her hands roam my jaw, tracing the shape of my mouth, memorizing every inch. My heart hammers, my fingers digging into her thighs. I want to give her the space to see me, truly see me, but fuck it!
My hand locks around the back of her neck, and I drag her mouth to mine.
The kiss is brutal, full of need, and when she gasps a chill runs down my spine.
My tongue claiming, owning, tasting her until nothing else exists.
Sweet and floral all at once, she meets my hunger with her own.
She grips me, her nails biting into my chest, and she grinds against me, so slow, so hard.
Fuck. Me.
I’m on my feet, her legs clamped tight around my waist, our mouths locked, the kiss deepening as I carry her to the bed. We don’t break apart until I throw her onto the mattress. Her hair falls into her face as she laughs, low, sinful, enough to make my cock ache.
“I’m going to fuck you all night,” I growl, leaning over her, “and show you how a man worships a goddess.”
She pushes her hair back and drags her tongue across her lips; then she spreads her legs wide, baring herself for me. Her cunt is wet, flushed, and waiting. Her gaze drops to the hard line in my sweats, and her pupils blow wide.
“That looks dangerous,” she says.
I grin. “I’m going to come so deep inside you, your cunt will still be leaking out the next time you slice some fucking bastard's balls off.”
I move between her thighs, planting my hands wide as my tongue makes its way up her body, over her knee and along the inside of her thigh, until I hover over her pussy. I blow a slow breath against her and she arches.
“So fucking needy, hellcat.”
Before she can answer, I drag my tongue through her folds, deep and slow.
“Oh, fuck—Eiden.” Her voice breaks, head tipping back, chest rising fast.
I don’t stop. My mouth works her until she’s trembling, hips jerking against my face. I suck her clit, bite just enough to make her gasp, and when I pull back, I crash my mouth to hers, letting her taste herself. She moans into it, but when I break away, she’s glaring, breathless.
“Don’t hold back, masked man.”
A dark laugh escapes me. My hand clamps on her waist, flipping her over my body so she’s sitting on my stomach. I rip the pillow from behind my head and toss it aside.
“Sit.”
She blinks at me. “What?”
“Sit on my fucking face, hellcat.” My grip tangles in her hair, pulling her toward me. “Now.”
She hesitates, lips parting, but her curiosity betrays her. She shifts forward, knees braced on either side of my head, her pussy hovering inches from my mouth. I hold her there, letting her feel the heat of my breath.
“Don’t make me drag you down,” I warn, low and dangerous.
Her thighs twitch. That’s all I need, my hands lock around her hips, and I pull her down hard, burying my mouth in her.
She cries out, the sound breaking on my tongue.
“That’s it,” I growl against her, not letting her lift an inch. “Grind on me. Use me. Don’t stop until you can’t breathe.”
Her hands fly to the headboard as her hips start to move slow at first. I flatten my tongue and let her ride it. I close my lips around her clit and suck until her thighs clamp around my head.
“Eiden—oh my—fuck—” Her words splinter into moans.
“Look at me,” I order, pulling back just enough for my voice to cut through her haze. She glances down, and I hold her gaze as I thrust my tongue into her again. “I want you to remember my eyes when you come. I want you to think about this every time you kill.”
Her head falls back with a gasp, and I know she’s close. I hold her in place, not letting her run from it, drinking in every shake, every sound, every desperate grind.
I fuck her with my tongue, relentless, holding her in place with my fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise.
Her sweet taste floods my mouth, and I bite into the soft flesh of her thigh.
She flinches but doesn’t stop, grinding down harder, chasing it.
My tongue finds her clit again, and I seal my lips around it, sucking until her whole body begins to tremble.
Her back arches, her hips jerk, and the tension in her breaks apart in a shuddering rush.
“That’s it, hellcat. Come for me.” My growl vibrates against her, and the sound tears through her as she spills onto my tongue. I take it all, swallowing her down like it’s the only thing that’s ever mattered.
She’s still shaking above me, breath ragged, candlelight flickering over her flushed skin.
I grip her waist, lifting her from my face with care, and lay her back on the bed.
My own body’s so tight it feels ready to snap.
My hand slides under the mattress until my fingers close around the knife I keep there.
Her gaze follows the movement, and when the blade catches the light, her eyes widen. Hellcat is etched into the steel.
“You named your knife after me?” Her voice is low, caught between flattered and wary.
“Yes.” I answer without hesitation, watching the rise and fall of her chest.
I crawl up between her legs, the bed dipping beneath my weight, and press the tip of the blade to her inner thigh with just enough pressure to dimple her skin before I draw a shallow cut.
Warm red wells up, sliding over the curve of her leg, her gasp shivers through the air, pleasure mixed with pain, and her nipples harden beneath the shirt.