“Can he run?”
“Arrow in the spine,” he clips.
My mouth dries as he nears, incapable of doing anything else but watching him bend down, seize me by the throat and crush his mouth into mine.
Milliseconds.
That’s how insignificant of a moment it takes for me to respond. He pries my lips apart with his tongue, tasting me thoroughly and drawing an embarrassing moan from my throat.
He rips himself away, only to fist my hair and yank my head back until I have no choice but to look him in the eye.
“A good man would be sorry that he corrupted something so pure.”
“You’ve never been a good man,” I whisper, reiterating the exact words he’s told me so many times before.
“No,” he agrees. “But I have always been yours.”
Swallowing, I open my mouth to reply but Zade’s hand is releasing my neck and snapping to the side before I can blink. Gasping, I turn to find Zade holding the tip of an arrow inches from my face, blood leaking down his arm.
Xavier struggles to push the arrow further toward me to no avail. My mouth opens with shock, slow to process what the hell just happened.
While I was distracted, Xavier had ripped the arrow out of his calf and attempted to stab me with it. Zade saw it coming, despite that his gaze never left mine.
“Jesus, fuck,” I breathe. “So uncool, dude.”
If Xavier would’ve killed me before I killed him, I would gladly accept death. And if Zade tried to resuscitate me, I’d put my foot down and refuse to come back. How could I look myself in the eye after that epic of a failure?
Zade rips the arrow out of Xavier’s grasp, black fury emanating from him. His hand is going to be nothing but shredded meat and bone if this keeps up. It’s still healing from the knife, yet he shows no indication he’s in pain.
Xavier’s teeth are bared from both agony and frustration, and I can see he’s ready to pounce again.
I grab the arrow from Zade’s hold, and using the sharp pointed tip, I notch it under Xavier’s chin, forcing him to look at me.
“Look at all that blood,” I muse, echoing his own words with a sardonic smile.
Zade readjusts, crouching behind me, his knees on either side as he presses into my back. Xavier’s eyes drift over my shoulder, hatred swirling in his eyes.
My breath hitches, shivering from the feel of Zade’s hand sliding across my midriff, then lower, the tips of his fingers breaching the waistband of my leggings.
Xavier tracks the movement, his face reddening the lower Zade’s hand drifts.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, though the answer is obvious. This is so fucking wrong, yet my pussy throbs when his fingers brush over my clit.
“When you stole from her, did you know the only one she thought of was me?” he asks, ignoring my question. I bite my lip, arousal flooding between my thighs as he continues to softly play.
Xavier snarls but doesn’t deign him an answer.
“I want to show you why,” Zade whispers, his deep voice dark and sinful.
His touch becomes firmer, and a low moan slips free. I close my eyes, embarrassed by that, even though Xavier can’t see anything but the outline of Zade’s hand.
“Don’t be shy,” Zade murmurs in my ear. “Show him why he never stood a chance against me.”
I exhale a shuddering breath, unable to contain the breathless moan, my eyes opening then fluttering shut again from the pleasure taking hold of my body. He expertly rubs my clit, and soon my head is dropping back on his shoulder.
“Zade,” I moan, my thighs beginning to tremble.
“Stop it,” Xavier barks, his voice pained for more reasons than the arrow piercing his spine.
“Are you angry because she never moaned your name?” Zade challenges. He’s right-I never did, despite how hard Xavier tried.
“Did she cry out for God?” he pushes.
“Yes,” Xavier spits, and fuck, I’m falling apart. I thrust against Zade’s hand, rolling my hips mindlessly, the bliss eroding my entire being.
“Good,” he says, a grin in his voice. “That means she was crying out for me.
“
“Oh my God, Zade,” I sob, the orgasm building, forming into a sharp point right where his fingers are rubbing.
“That’s it, baby,” he purrs. “Show him who you’re really praying to.”
“Zade!” I cry out, splintering into millions of pieces while my soul breaks free, shooting far into the heavens. It’s then I realize I don’t belong there, not when my dark god is pulling me down into a world of sin and pleasure, making me come while holding an arrow to my rapist’s throat.
We’re all fucking damned anyway, forced to live outside of heaven’s gates. I find I like it better living in the darkness next to my shadow.
Zade slips his hand from my leggings, cupping my pussy over the fabric while I ride out the rolling waves of euphoria.
Slowly, I come down, my vision spotty as clarity gradually resurfaces.
Panting, I look down to find Xavier seething, his eyes glassy as he glares at me.
Why does he look so betrayed when he’s never owned anything more than my nightmares?
“You’re a whore,” he spits angrily. Zade stands, his presence looming, seconds away from taking the wheel and sending Xavier into the afterlife. I reposition the arrowhead against his neck, a droplet of blood forming beneath the tip.
“And what makes you think your opinion of me means anything at all?” I wonder.
Before he can answer, a loud screech cuts in, full of pain and frustration.
“Fucking psycho bitch!”
That would be Francesca.
On shaking legs, I stand and turn to find Sibby dragging Francesca’s flailing body toward us, her red, sweaty face twisted with annoyance. Zade starts to head to her but pauses and points at Xavier.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.