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I pause, giving her one last chance to back down, but she turns her lips to my neck, her hot breath fanning across my skin.

So, I press the shard into her old scar, snarling when she opens her mouth and clamps her teeth onto my throat, biting down without restraint.

It’s over as soon as it began, and she releases me instantly, chest heaving. It’s not deep—just enough to draw blood.

Blackness licks at the edges of my vision as I succumb to the beast inside me.

“Next one.” I hardly recognize my own voice, but it’s one she trusts because she peeks through the mirror and points to another on her hip.

Again, I slice while she bites. Over and over until her front side is covered in cuts, and she’s shaking. Then, I spin her around and lift her on the sink, cradling her to my chest while I slice over scars on her back until she’s stained with blood, and my neck and shoulders are imprinted with bite marks.

We’re both breathing heavily, brimming with lust, agony, and a restlessness that puts us both on edge.

She’s trembling beneath my hands, and her eyes are like glazed caramel apples, high off the endorphins rushing through her system. I drop the glass, rubbing each thumb over a wound, intoxicated by the sharp hiss from between her teeth.

“Does anything about the way I love you feel tragic?” I ask, brushing my lips across her jaw.

“Yes,” she whimpers. “But only because one day it will end.”

A growl rips from my throat, and I fist her hair, tipping her head back and forcing her to see the truth.

“You and I will never end, little mouse. Even when we’re six feet under, and our bones are dust, I will haunt your soul until it aches to be free of me. And then, I will hold you tighter.”

Her lip trembles, fighting against my grip on her hair in order to press herself against me, her hardened nipples brushing against my chest.

“I don’t ever want to be free of you, Zade. Not in this lifetime, and not in all the ones that come after.”

She grabs either side of my face and crushes her lips onto mine, her nails scraping against the stubble on my cheeks.

She holds on to me like she’s falling, but I have no interest in catching her. I will always fall with her, chasing after her even in death.

Her legs lock around my hips, so I pick her up, my hands sliding against her slick skin, and carry her to the clawfoot tub. She pulls away just an inch, her teeth chattering and drawing out a grin from me. She’s grinding her pussy against my length, slipping and sliding from how fucking soaked she is.

Carefully, I step into the tub and lower us in it, crimson dyeing the porcelain with smeared fingerprints and fresh droplets.

Baring my teeth, I groan when she undulates against my cock, threatening to tear my sanity out of my head like a monster does a heart in a cheesy horror film.

Before I completely lose it, I reach forward and grab the handheld shower head that rests by the faucet. Then, I turn the hot water on full blast, playing with the temperature until it’s comfortable.

“Zade,” she pleads, lost in delirium. Addie was only ever shown pain with a knife, and now she’s experiencing just how cataclysmic it can be when done right.

From now on, the only knife she’ll ever fall prey to is mine, and she’ll fucking beg me for it.

I switch the water to the shower head, before leaning back and spraying it over her body. She hisses, tipping her head back and continuing to move her hips in slow movements.

Her husky moans fill the space, bouncing off stone and porcelain, and sticking to me like hot wax. Red-tinted blood streams over her curves before swirling down the drain.

I turn the water to myself next and rid myself of the blood and grime from today’s activity. By the time I finish, I find her staring down at me, a heat in her eyes that robs me of breath.

“Look at your new scars,” I demand sharply. It takes a few beats before she drags her gaze from mine and down to her body. The wounds are still bleeding, the hot water not allowing the blood to clot. “What do you see?”

Sliding a hand across that same scar on her stomach, she exhales shakily. “You.”

I lean up, curling my finger beneath her chin and raising her eyes back to mine. “Someday soon, little mouse, you will not be able to see anything else. I will be the only villain in your story, and the only one who has the power to make you scream.”

The moment the last word leaves my tongue, I turn the shower head towards her pussy, the powerful spray directly on her clit.

She jolts, a gasp quickly transforming into a cry. Her hands grasp either side of the tub, and once more, her head falls back. But this time, she screams, just as I said she would.