Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 176345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 882(@200wpm)___ 705(@250wpm)___ 588(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 882(@200wpm)___ 705(@250wpm)___ 588(@300wpm)
Milo returns, grabbing a chair and casually sitting to watch her from a distance while she goes wild on the guy.
She whips him again from all sides, not stopping until blood rains down on the floor and on top of her. She doesn’t care how much is spoiled or how much she’s covered with, and when she’s done, her breathing comes out in ragged breaths, blood staining her wetsuit.
She drops the whip and fishes out her knife, jabbing it into his thigh.
“Please! Stop!” the guy keeps begging, but she ignores him.
“Holy fuck …” Nathan mutters, admiring her from a distance as she keeps going, boring holes into every inch of his body.
Yet he’s still breathing, still existing in the most painful corner of human existence.
She allows us all to experience the depth of her depravity. Every once in a while, her eyes connect with all three of us as though she’s begging us to see her for what she truly is. A beautiful, frenzied monster of justice and destruction. To look at the darkness sweeping through the room, taking us all over in a storm of retribution.
I’m in awe and enraptured by this homicidal kitty of mine.
She thrusts her knife into his body until nothing remains but holes, blood spraying from all sides, covering her too.
For a second, she glances my way, almost as if she’s wondering when I’ll stop being enamored and start being terrified.
But I will never, ever reach that point.
If this is her worst moment … I want to live inside it with every atom in my body.
“Make it stop, make it stop,” he begs, his voice soft, practically a peep.
He can barely stay conscious.
“Please …”
Lana slowly drags out her knife and holds it out to me.
“Do any of you still want a chance?” she asks.
A smile forms on my face as I take the knife from her and jab it underneath his rib cage. Blood pours from the wound, though not as fast as before, but the droplets still stain my face and chest.
He cries again and vomits all over himself, but then his eyes slowly roll back into his head.
“He’s done for,” Milo mutters.
“Lana?” I offer her the knife back.
Instead, she hands it to Nathan. He stabs him in the legs, but the guy no longer responds to any of the jabs we give him.
“Told you,” Milo adds.
Nathan makes a tsk sound as he pulls out the knife again. “Pathetic fucker.”
He hands it back to Lana and then lowers the guy from the hook. “Lana, do you want to do the honors?”
She frowns at him. “Didn’t you need his money?”
Nathan shakes his head. “Not this time.”
Her lips part, confusion settling on her face. “But why else would you do this?”
I step forward and grip the hand holding the knife. “For you.”
Nathan grabs the guy’s hair, tilting his head back, while I bring her hand along with the knife to his throat. My body presses up against hers, the sheer amount of violence irrevocably chaining my soul to hers.
“Now kill him.”
And as the blade punctures his skin, I plant a kiss onto her bloodied neck, savoring the taste of her savagery, her pulse quickening with every kiss, every stroke of the blade while it cuts through his flesh.
Blood streams out of his neck, spouting onto us, but I don’t give a care in the world as I take her mouth and claim her while she kills him.
Nothing is sweeter than the taste of murder on the lips of the girl I love.
She leans back for a second, blood rolling down her face. “Are you still not scared?”
I let my fingers travel across her bloodied face, appreciating every drop of blood before I tip up her chin to make her look at me. “The only thing I’m frightened of is losing you.”
The knife clatters to the floor, and she kisses me back just as desperately. Her body comes to life in my hands as they snake around her waist and back. I zip down her wetsuit, desperate to touch her naked skin and remind it of its only master.
Me.
I am the only one she bends to.
The only one who can make a girl like her yield.
Other men can only dream of that kind of power.
I slip the wetsuit off her shoulders and down her tits as her hands wrap around my neck and mine cup her tits. With every squeeze, her moans become louder, and my dick twitches with excitement.
As our lips unlatch, I murmur, “Good little kitty. Now purr for me.”
I dip my blood-soaked hand down into the bottom half of the wetsuit, rubbing her pussy until she moans.
“All that violence got you so wet,” I whisper into her ear as I dip a finger inside. “I gave you what you craved so badly, and now I will take what I hunger for.”