14. Daisy
Fourteen
Daisy
“Daisy,” Jason’s voice hisses, and my gaze snaps to my stepbrother. “Are you attempting to win a world record for ‘Most Useless’?”
My mouth drops open. That’s so rude. I’m adding it to my list of things Jason needs to atone for.
He approaches the dining table with purpose and grabs a knife, his eyes fixed on the deadly edge.
The blight seated there watches him, head tilted, measuring.
Possessiveness stirs inside me. I don’t like the way it’s looking at Jason.
With unprecedented speed, I rush forward, propelled by the God within, to snatch a carving knife from the table. It’s weightless in my palm, and I feel no hesitation. The only thing on my mind is protecting what’s mine, and Jason belongs to me.
The room pulses with red, humming energy. Kill it. With my teeth bared, I stab the knife straight into the blight’s neck. The blade sinks through its flesh, a hissing gash that pulls apart into a crater of steam and blood.
The monster screeches a loud demonic warble, its gnarled green hands fumbling to stop the spray of blood. My smile broadens. “And that’s one point for me!”
I look around, find my stepbrother, and make an L-shape with my hand while mouthing, loser. Jason rolls his eyes and strides off into the kitchen, no doubt ready to try to catch up to me. My attention turns back to the blight.
Pure terror reflects in its every move, eyes vibrating with manic energy. A cackle rips from my throat, raw and unstoppable. My heart jackhammers against my ribs. Adrenaline screams through my veins.
I am a God.
Power thrums under my skin in a steady rhythm of command. I was born for this throne. I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
The dark spirit inside me emits a satisfied purr. Finish it, it seems to say. My tongue darts out, tasting the scent of death in the air, and my fingers tighten around my weapon.
The blight tries to rise from the chair but stumbles into the table. Its howls of pain are syrup on my tongue, I drink in the sound. I need its cries louder.
A snarl rips from my throat. I clasp the hilt of my knife with both hands and bury the steel deep into the blight’s neck. Hot blood paints my skin, and I grin. My blade hammers home—once, twice, a dozen times. The monster’s head hits the table with a thud. The only sound left now is my breathing.
The corpse slides from the table to liquefy against the floorboards, hissing in its own bile. My lungs heave, but my grin only widens.
The room buzzes with the energy of a crowded stadium. I’ve claimed my first conquest.
I flip my hair over my shoulder, pretending that all eyes are on me. “She’s sexy and dangerous.”
Distant screams pull my attention. My head tilts, listening.
There’s something human about the noise.
I pivot, my boots slick with gore, and turn to the source.
My grip loosens for a fraction of a second.
No—it’s a cheap trick. A trap designed to make me falter. I click my tongue and tighten my hold.
I walk back to pluck another knife from the table so I can wield a blade in each hand. I’m a badass monster killer straight out of a blockbuster horror movie. I shake my head, my blonde hair falling in waves over my shoulder.
“Ready or not, here I come.”
Two blights rush toward me, springing from the shadows.
The world becomes high definition under a sudden spike of adrenaline.
I spin on the heel of my boot, and dazzling light glimmers off my sparkly dress.
I swing both blades, slashing deep into their bodies.
They scream, but it’s not enough. I launch into fast strikes, and the world blurs, red raining down upon me.
The monsters drop to their knees, wailing, blood weeping through raw cuts.
“Oh, I love it when you scream for me.” I prowl closer, ready to continue the fight, to make them scream again.
My boot slams into one of their stomachs and I hear nothing but a dull thud.
My lip curls into a pout. “Are you dead already?” I throw my head back, groaning. “So not fun.”
“Daisy.” My head snaps towards the sound.
My eyes widen. I watch Jason struggle, his grip slipping.
The butcher blight’s massive arms crush the air from his lungs, his face red and straining.
“Absofuckinglutely not.” I launch forward, my boots clomping against the tile.
“If anyone chokes him, it’ll be me, suffocating him with my pussy.
” I roll my shoulders back, neck cracking.
“It’s showtime. Time to save the useless man. ”
I whistle, drawing the blight’s attention. It drops Jason, who crumples to the floor, gasping for air as I walk past him.
I plunge the knife into the base of the blight’s neck and grunt while forcing the blade down to its swollen abdomen.
The creature loosens its grip, stumbling back, and taking my knife with it.
Its skin unzips, and glowing worms emerge, a wet, gory gift.
The weapon hits the ground with a metallic bang.
Touch it. Feed from the blight. It will make you stronger. Devour what you destroy.
The commands thunder in my mind, pushing me closer to the monster. I coat my fingertips in the glistening fluid weeping from its body. My hand moves on its own, drawn to the blight’s heat like a moth to a flame. I scissor my fingers apart, my mouth thirsting to taste.
I lift my fingers to my nose, breathing deeply. A moan escapes, salivating over the rush of sweetness promising the richness of a forbidden dessert.
Taste it, taste it, taste it, the voice chants. My stomach knots with pain carved by hunger.
Without warning, a pair of hands encircle my waist, tearing me from the moment.
Jason flashes a wild smile, hoisting me in the air.
My legs lock around his hips, fingers gripping his shoulders.
The room dissolves into spinning rainbow hues.
Jason’s laughter is the music to our rapture.
Even as chaos swirls, I can’t stop wondering if the blight’s insides could be the magical feast we need—the key to defeating these monsters.
“I’m going insane, Daisy.”
I shriek in response, the room spinning faster.
“All this power flowing into my body. I feel unstoppable. I feel—fuck.”
Jason drops me down on the table, silverware bouncing. I lean back to watch him pace with a wild, untamed energy. Muscles ripple beneath his skin, electric and raw. I bite my lip, my breath hitching as I drown in the sight of him.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
I flash a coy smile, looking at Jason through my lashes.
He looms above me, wild and ravenous. His tongue flicks out, eyes tracing my skin as if he’s thinking about eating me alive.
I hope he does. If it meant leaving Jason with an aching obsession, always desperate for another taste—I would surrender every piece of myself to him.
“Like what?” I ask innocently while giving him my best fuck me, please face. I slowly tease my legs apart, knowing that my panties are still tucked away in his pocket from our alleyway quickie.
“You know exactly what you’re doing.” Jason’s eyes drop and a deep, animalistic growl escapes him. I open myself wider. His chest heaves, releasing each shaky breath. I enjoy watching his silent battle.
He wants you, the voice inside me insists.
“You look a bit hungry, big Brother.” I smirk, glancing down to where his erection strains against his jeans. “Or maybe you need to feed me.” The room grows darker, the air thick with our lechery. Nothing else exists but the two of us.
The room’s energy caresses my skin, my nipples pebbling under its soft touches. We’re going to rise above all else, two gods crowned by the voice that named us. Jason’s power surges outward, tangling with my own until a magnetic current sparks between us, charged with both darkness and desire.
My hand slips down my stomach and between my thighs, a moan escaping from my lips. Take me. Fuck me, I plead with my eyes.
His fists are tight, knuckles white. Jason’s body trembles as his resolve slips away. He wants me.
My finger circles my clit, smearing my arousal. The intensity of Jason’s darkened gaze leaves me breathless—his stare alone will send me crumbling into the depths of my lust.
“Fuck,” I cry out.
The thrill of having Jason as my captive audience has me releasing another moan.
I watch him hesitate before he surrenders.
He lowers himself into the chair before me like I’m the God to which he’ll pray.
I reward his obedience by spreading my legs wider to give him a perfect view of my pussy.
I part my center, making sure he can see how badly I ache for him.
Jason needs to know what he’s missing. And if he’s brave enough, he can have me.
I sink my middle finger into my warm heat and cry out. Jason’s eyes don’t leave me while my touch burns hotter, each breath caught somewhere between tension and anticipation. The room blurs. My body tightens around my finger. If I’m not careful, his gaze will make me fall apart on its own.
“Fuck, Jason,” I moan, daring to pump my finger in and out.
My other hand grabs my breast and I squeeze, my wetness growing.
Everything in me wants to shut my eyes and revel in the ecstasy, but I force myself to keep my focus on Jason.
He continues to meet my gaze, and I refuse to back down, lifting myself higher and higher in the throes of pleasure while fucking myself with my finger.
I’m impressed by his control, but I don’t want him to be just an observer.
“Stop fighting and fuck me.” His lips part as I moan again, my hand moving faster. “Or are you a coward?”
My taunt lands exactly where I need it to. The instant his hands find my thighs, I snap my legs shut, pleasure disintegrating. I whimper from edging myself. It’s torture, but punishing Jason is more important.
“Daisy,” he growls.
I lick my lips. “Beg.” Just one small word and all sound is ripped from the room.
Jason lets out a loud, exasperated breath. I wonder, has anyone ever challenged him like this? The thought is thrilling. I want to push him even further, and be even worse. He’ll never know peace when I’m around.
“Excuse me?” Jason drags my body closer to him, and I plant a boot against his chest, forcing distance between us. My resistance only fuels his desire. It’s a calculated move because Jason thrives when challenged. Lucky for him, I love putting on a show.
“Beg. You still need to make up for being an asshole earlier.” A woman never forgets when she’s been wronged.
“You think you can control me?”
I laugh, throwing my hair back. “Baby,” I purr, “I’ve already got you on a leash. Now, be a good boy and beg. Beg like you mean it.”
He tightens his grip around my ankles, and his eyes betray the moment he gives in.
“Daisy, please.”
His sorry little effort sends me into another fit of giggles, and I can hear his teeth grind. No self-proclaimed tough guy enjoys being the punchline.
“That was so pathetic. Maybe I’ll find someone else who can do the job right.” I sigh loudly. He growls, unknowingly falling into my trap.
“Daisy, I’m sorry for being an asshole. Please let me make it up to you. Let me show you how sorry I am. Please, Daisy.”
A grin stretches across my face. I can’t help but imagine how hard it must have been for Jason to apologize, and the thought sparks a wicked curiosity.
Just how far can I push him? He’s always so sure of himself, always in command.
It would be delicious to unravel that composure, to see him kneel and learn the art of true submission.
And, of course, how to beg the right way.
“No.”
“Fuck you,” Jason immediately retorts. Heated waves simmer off him.
“You wish.”
We lock eyes in a wordless standoff until he finally breaks. Jason lunges to claim me, his chair crashing to the floor.
And that’s when I move.