That Sik Luv

Aero

It’s a fucking sin for her to look the way she does tonight in this room full of drooling, flesh-hungry wolves.

They stare in awe at her beautiful shapely form, every part of her dripping with the essence of a woman she’s yet to embody. Always out of reach to the rats in the gutter, that dream of her submission, always above the men that want her beneath them.

Alone I’ve been, succumbing to the horrors of my past that these same men inflicted upon me. I came about by accident. A horrible stain of the sins of a man too prestigious.

They wanted to end me before I lived, just as they do Briony, but my mother held on, secretly bearing the child of a man who had done unspeakable things to her. She defied the men who tried to snuff her out, living hidden in a hell all her own as she raised the boy who’d become the man seeking the vengeance she always deserved. The vengeance I deserved after the hell Callum Westwood had put me through upon the discovery of the bastard-born son who carried his blood.

I found my way through the darkness that once tried to drown me and made it my home. I emerged, dirtied and raw, with a heart that beats black.

Few souls know I exist. The only ones who do are evil enough to seek me out, using my skills for themselves, knowing the unrelenting anger that pumped through my veins. Alastor Abbott thought he could control and tame the animal he saved from the trap. Like sharpening a dull blade, he’d use me as his sword; an edge over the company he kept, unknowingly giving me the key to my own sick freedom.

Freedom from the chains of an institution that’s controlled the mind of the purest of dolls.

She’s clean. Somehow unpolluted by the horrors surrounding her. My sweet, innocent, naïve little doll. Breaking her to become my soul’s counterpart in this life of demonic hell is my mission; the only hope coming from the beautiful release of deliciously dark revenge.

I’ll teach her. Show her how disgustingly satisfying it is to rip through the flesh of those deserving, watching life slip away from the ones that hurt us as their pale faces stare back at us. She’ll be perfect, dripping in the blood of another man.

I wait in a dark corner of the hallway, upstairs in the sprawling home of the Governor himself. I saw the look on Alastor’s face. He’s shocked to see her here. Alive. Seeing her in the presence of these men surprised me, to be honest. I didn’t think she had it in her to stare them in the face, especially not after seeing Caldwell’s dirty little secret firsthand. Secrets that are well-known to every disgusting man in here tonight.

“We all have our vices.” I overheard Alastor saying over the phone in his office once, regarding Caldwell’s addiction to abusing the youth, before paying off the dirty cops to keep his vote.

These men will get what’s coming to them, just as soon as I get Briony cumming for me.

I bore holes into his body with my eyes on that dance floor when he touched her, his hand wrapping around her lower back, his other hand holding onto hers. My nostrils flared and my body shook with anger, the demons and darkness multiplying within threatening to overtake me. It took every part of my being to restrain myself from doing what I instinctively felt the need to do.

Dismembering him would make my heart rage with the excitement of a madman. But I need him. I need him to get to his father, destroying the dynasty he’s always envisioned. One by one, I’ll tear them down internally before tearing them down literally. Everyone plays a role in this sweet game of revenge.

Lucky for me, Briony’s falling into my temptations, each step of hers up this secluded staircase giving me that knowing satisfaction.

Looking down the hall to her right, then into the darkness to her left, it’s as if she can feel my presence. Step by step, her body moves through the light, edging toward the darkness like a lioness; cautious, yet on the hunt, knowing the animals prowling around her.

She nears me at the last door in the hall, the darkness absorbing her entirely. I can practically hear her pulse pounding beneath the skin of her soft neck. The sudden urge to feel it takes over me and I reach out, wrapping my hand around the front of her neck, turning her until her back slams against the door.

Gasping, I tighten my hold, squeezing to feel the panic beneath her flesh.

“Aero.” She gasps with the only air she has left. But it’s not in fear; it’s only in recognition.

“Hi baby,” I coo, lifting my mask from my face in the shadows.

I run my nose along her face, needing her scent all over me again. I breathe her in, feeling the bulge beneath my dress pants grow in length at the sweet lilac perfume blending in with the natural scent of her skin.

“You came into the den of wolves and are met by the big bad wolf himself,” I whisper into her ear as my hand continues to hold tight to her neck. “But are you prepared for his bite?”

I nip at her earlobe and she whimpers a sweet little cry.

Growing harder at her cries, I trail my mouth down to her shoulder, where I graze my teeth again. Her skin ignites, and ghosts of goosebumps rise along her arms. With one hand tight around her throat, I place my other hand against the door behind her, bending down further to trail my tongue along her chest.

“Are you scared of me?” I whisper against her skin, feeling the rising pulse of her neck against my palm.

“Yes,” she chokes out.

“And yet, you keep seeking me out.”

Her chest heaves as the breaths come quick and choppy before she swallows and I feel the roll of her throat.

“It’s warmer near the fire,” she whispers back.

Her voice is quiet but filled with a confidence I wasn’t expecting. I still in place, absorbing her words. She’s speaking to me in my language now, reading through the riddles, the cryptic code. Understanding.

My mouth meets her collarbone, and I bite down on it between my teeth. I fight the urge to mark her with my bite, loosening my jaw, and tipping my head up to hers, a few strands of my hair falling onto my forehead.

Down the hall, the faintest of candles illuminates the curves beneath her silver dress. Her chest shudders beneath my forearm as she grasps for her breast. My brows lower as I look down at the edge of her dress, the silver fabric dipping between the beautiful, shadowed mounds of plump flesh. Her hand dips into the dress, rousing her breast, exposing more of her, and a deep growl leaves my throat.

Withdrawing her hand from the dress, I see the metal skeleton key I gave her in the closet.

A slow grin creeps across my face. She brought it.

“I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven,” I recite, taking the key out of her trembling fingers.

“What’s this for?” she asks, her worried voice vibrating against my palm. “What’s the test you’re giving me?”

She’s anxious about the trust she’s putting in my hands. She should be. Nothing about this will be soft or tender. Breaking my doll will only rebuild her into the beast she’s bound to become.

“A baptism,” I say, grabbing the hand that was in Saint’s. “To erase the purification they’ve doused you in by making you a woman of strength, owning your sexuality; your freedom,” I continue, before standing straight again.

I grab her dangling hand, bringing the back of it to my mouth. As always, the need to cleanse the mark of anyone else off of her, necessary. I drag my tongue along her hand, tasting her sweet skin against my tastebuds.

She shivers again at the sensation, and I see her thighs close tighter beneath her dress, knowing the wetness pooling there. That sweet, thick honey her body makes just for me.

I’m bound to break. I can only hold back for so long. This need to immerse myself in her scent, her delicious arousal, is driving me to the brink of insanity. The need to have her coated in me; cum dripping down her face, blending with the tears and smears of mascara.

I stick the key into the door behind her, clicking it open. The rush of the crimes we are about to commit flood me as the realization hits.

She seeks the fire.

Briony Strait is fanning the flame.

She’s willing herself to burn beneath the only man she’ll ever want to serve and obey. The one who will worship her in ways that make her God flush with fury.