27. Karia #2
I could’ve asked for answers, left Sullen locked in that room, but I didn’t, because I am obsessed with him.
And he is giving me nothing of what I need right now.
I drain the glass completely.
Then I ask the one true question, the thing I have been dreading, more maybe than any other next step.
“What happens, after all of this?” I don’t look at him. I stare at the wine glass perched on my thigh, my pulse rattling inside my ribcage. At least give me this.
In place of his dreadful silence, he counters with, “All of this?”
“The war of killing Stein and whoever else.” I wave my fingers absently as if it means nothing, whatever he decides to say, but I still can’t look him in the eye.
“Do you want to? Kill him?” There is a measured tone to his voice. Something hesitant.
Slowly, I flick my gaze to his. “I think that honor should go to you, but I would love to.”
He doesn’t so much as blink, but at least he doesn’t give me the silent treatment.
“You think I should have any honor at all? You’ve watched me murder two people.
You’ve cleaned up things you shouldn’t have.
” There is a pink flush to his hollow cheeks, but I force myself not to smile at the sight, worried he’ll interpret it the wrong way.
“I would probably lick it from the floor if it made you less sad.” That’s what comes out instead of my smile.
Shit. I should not have said that.
I blink rapidly, the fever dream of a room blurring around Sullen, as if he is all I can focus on in my mortification. Yet even as my heart pounds and my body grows hot and I feel slightly queasy, the look in his eyes silences the whoosh of humiliation thumping in my ears.
He doesn’t laugh or mock me. He seems awed. Wide eyes, parted lips, a soft furrow between his dark brows.
I want to laugh in relief.
But seconds tick by, and he turns his head. “You’re drunk,” he says under his breath, as if dismissing my words. Not like he’s embarrassed for me, but like he doesn’t believe me.
I take a deep inhale, exhale slowly, recovering from admitting so much. “And? I still like you.”
“Like me? You shouldn’t.” He still won’t face me, his gloved hand under his chin now, elbow propped on the arm of his chair. A sullen prince.
“You’re not very good at flirting, Sullen.
” I keep my voice low, lascivious. Despite what I have done with Cosmo, I was never really the one seducing him.
In fact, there was nothing I had to do to earn him save for get very drunk.
Now, I’m on my way to that level of inebriation, yet I feel as if I need to coax Sullen into this.
I think of him pressed against me at Dreary, the noises he made.
I want them again. I want everything. I know it’s the wine clouding my judgement, erasing my questions and anger and confusion, but for now, fuck the rest.
But he doesn’t face me as he speaks again. “Don’t say it. I’ll do it for you. I’m boring, aren’t I?”
Abruptly, a giggle bursts from me, bright and loud in the quiet room, and I don’t regret it. “Yes.”
“Come sit on my lap and tell me again.” Still, all without turning his head.
I twirl the empty wine glass between my fingers, my head loose, floating. “Much better flirting.”
He turns to look at me. And says nothing else.
Despite the chill in the room, as I glance up at the painted ceiling, a flush of heat crawls down my throat.
What was I saying inside my head, about coaxing him?
About convincing him? Now, it seems, he may have to convince me.
Not because I don’t want to sit on his lap—I would crawl to him, if he demanded it—but because with his stern tone and without being strapped down and taken control of, it’s like I’ve suddenly forgotten how to do this.
Like I’m instantly shy, which is very untrue.
My breath comes in quick pants, thinking of stumbling into him.
But I can’t stumble; I have to pretend I’m not drunk at all.
No wonder he acted as if he injected me with a sedative at Dreary.
Maybe he has seen past each mask I own. All this time I thought he was hiding from me, but I am not sure I have ever once shown him my true self, either.
I am not sure I have shown anyone.
Waking in a pool of blood, a knife to my throat, cleaning up urine from the floor, all of that seems so much easier than this for reasons I don’t understand.
Maybe because with him, unlike with Cosmo or Von, it’s real.
It could be devastating, if I lose this. If I do the wrong thing.
“Now it is you who are boring me, Karia.” His voice is a mocking, seductive whisper.
A thrill rushes through my veins as a smile I can’t hide spreads over my mouth.
I lower my eyes to him, finding him staring back, his expression blank, and yet it is so fucking hot. Dark eyes, lilac-tinted wavy hair, his full lips pressed together, chin dipped, knees spread as if waiting for me…
Slowly, I reach over to set down my glass as he tracks every movement. Then I stand on the shakiest of legs, the pink blanket softly slipping to my feet, exposing me.
I never changed clothes or took a shower. I knelt in a puddle of piss. My hands are dry, coated in cleaner and dirty water.
But as he cocks his head and lifts his gaze to stare into mine, I know he couldn’t care less.
I see how hard he is, his cock straining against his pants. The deep red of his hoodie seems to set off the shards of amber in his dark eyes and it’s almost difficult to hold his gaze with the intensity of his stare.
I take a step forward, bare feet over hardwoods, past the blanket. Another step, and I feel the plush, mosaic rug beneath my toes. I am giddy, breathless, wondering…
After all we have been through and all we have left, I deserve this. I want this, desperately.
A corner of his mouth turns upward as I take another step, my thighs quivering.
I swallow and feel the pull of the bandage he applied along my throat, and I watch as his eyes drop to it, as if we are uncannily connected.
His expression doesn’t change, but he doesn’t look away from my neck, his gaze roaming over every inch of it.
And I know it isn’t the bandage he’s seeing, but rather where he dug his teeth into me.
A feeling of submission seems to infect every cell in my body. I want his mouth all over me. His canines in every inch of my skin. Bruises, marks, blood; I want to be coated in it, as long as he caused it.
Is this what it’s like to be feverishly sick with obsession? Consumed with the desire to make yourself only available for one other person in the entire world? I would fold myself up and allow him to swallow me whole if he wanted.
I would do anything, I think.
Another step.
He doesn’t stop looking at my neck.
Another, one foot in front of the other, my hands trembling at my sides.
His gaze suddenly shoots to mine, and I stop inches from him, frozen.
The eye contact is all at once unnerving and I look away, needing to breathe as I glance at the gauzy purple entranceway in this room of strangeness, only to find…
Cosmo.
His shoulder is propped against the frame, the curtain draped over his back as he watches me in complete silence.
For a moment, I wonder if I’m only so drunk, I’m seeing things. I told him to stay away, and I squeezed filth onto his face.
But when I blink, my chest growing heavy, the breath stuck in my lungs, he is still there, staring at me as if I am a meal he is seconds away from devouring. He must want retribution. I wonder if he’s ever tasted humiliation before, aside from in the Emporium.
I feel a twisted pride at giving it to him.
Yet it’s Sullen who speaks next. “Take another step,” he says lazily, and I want to tell him Cosmo is spying on us, but my feet stumble forward instead as if my body is only for Sullen to command.
And maybe I want to keep it from him, to protect him. He would not like to be observed this way.
Immediately, my knee bumping his, he curls his fingers around my wrist, tugging sharply and pulling me into his lap.
A whimper escapes me, as if I am on fire from the contact of him, my knees spreading wide, pushing into the cushion of the chair as I straddle him. I bring one hand to his shoulder to steady myself, but he’s still got my other trapped in his grip.
Otherwise, he doesn’t touch me despite the fact I can feel the heat from his solid body beneath me, and feel his erection between my thighs, as close as we are, my low belly pressed to his.
I glance up at Cosmo.
He hasn’t moved.
He hasn’t looked away.
My mouth goes very dry.
I need to say something. I—
“I know he’s there,” Sullen says quietly, his voice calm and controlled yet he sounds even more dangerous this way.
“I know you wanted to undress, for him. Give him a show.” His grip on my wrist tightens as I dart my gaze to his, my head bowed, lips inches from his own.
But before I can deny his bullshit allegation, he dips his chin and nudges his nose against my hair, the side of my face, then lower, to the crook of my neck, causing goosebumps to erupt on my flesh.
“I thought I could trust you. But you are just so fucking bad, Karia. You couldn’t tell me when you saw him, could you?
You wanted him to see all of you, one last time? ”
That’s not… I just… “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.” My voice is hoarse. My thoughts are muddled. I can feel Cosmo still watching, and in my head, he is smiling cruelly at all of this. “I’m sorry, I—”
“You’re sorry?” Sullen pulls back, expression blank as he studies me, his nose close to my own. “What is it you said you’d do for me?” He glances at my mouth, then back up. “With your tongue?”
“Sullen, I—”
He grabs my jaw roughly, squeezes my wrist with his other hand. “No, no. Say it. Let him hear.”
My neck feels impossibly hot. “I said I would… clean up… your…” I trail off, sweat prickling at the back of my neck. Everything is bendy and wavy and I know I am drunk, but not enough for this.
“My what?” Sullen coaxes, his tongue curving over my mouth as he licks me.
“Your…” My pulse feels sluggish. Even my eyes are seared with heat. “Your… I would clean up your—”
“She doesn’t need to say,” Cosmo says coldly. “I heard it.”
Sullen brushes his thumb over my bottom lip, a sick smile on his pretty mouth, then he turns calmly to face Cosmo. “Run along,” he says quietly as I look between them both, feeling strangely as if I am spinning in infinite space. “For you, she would never.”
Cosmo straightens from the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He narrows his gaze, but he doesn’t look like he’s going to leave, despite the way the color seems to have drained from his face with Sullen’s true words. “I don’t trust you with her—”
“There is nothing I would let harm her. Including you.” Sullen’s hand lowers to my throat, curling gently over the bandage, the bruises, but he doesn’t look away from Cosmo.
“And if she wanted to run, she could have done it many times. Isn’t that right, Little Sun?
” All without facing me, like I am merely a prop, a toy, an object under his command.
In this moment, it’s true.
I shift my hips, grinding against him. “I don’t want to run from you, Sullen,” I answer quietly, then I lift my gaze to my friend. “And I don’t want to be with you tonight, Cosmo. I already told you to leave me alone.”
Sullen’s voice is rougher when he says, “Good girl, Princess. I’d hate to murder him, too.” Then his thumb begins to pick at the bandage along my throat.