Page 141 of Cruel Pleasures

My teeth gnash together and my hands press down harder on the latest part I’m severing off. A heavy weight presses down on my chest to the point it’s almost unbearable. It’s not until the buzzing saw stops and the last piece of her rolls to the floor, leaving a trail of blood, that it lets up.

It’s over.

Her voice fades. She’s really gone.

Though polarizing emotions remain the same. Divided as much as her personalities were.

I toss the stew of guts and innards in the sink and consider what to do with the rest. If I even feel like burying her or if she even deserves that. She could join the other chunks of meat stored away in the freezer and it’d be justified.

After a childhood spent under the veil of violence from the woman who’s supposed to protect you most, it would be borderline poetic.

I pull the rubber apron from over my head to find I’m no longer alone. Imani hovers in the doorway, looking nowhere near as disturbed as she’d been the first time she visited this room. Exposure really does desensitize you. The girl’s seen so much gore and death over the last two weeks, dismembered body parts are a cake walk.

I cock a brow at her and lift one of Mother’s arms. “Care to give me a hand?”

“You’re a sick bastard, you know that, right?”

“Yet here you are, minx. Seeking out said sick bastard.”

She takes a couple steps into the room. “Because you left the bed without waking me.”

“I wasn’t aware that was a stipulation of all the fun we had last night.”

“And what fun would that be? The killing spree or what happened after?”

“Both,” I answer, adding a grin to match my raised brow. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I don’t know what I think. Last night was… it was pure insanity. It almost doesn’t feel real.”

“We’ve been over this. Who determines what’s real and what’s not? Was the Hostess real? Or was she just my mother gone batshit crazy?”

“You tell me. You knew the whole time it was the same person,” she says, crossing her arms. “You just… you did this to her.”

“I’m missing your point.”

“Most people don’t decapitate their parents then take the rest of them apart piece by piece.”

“We established a long time ago, I’m not most people, minx. Neither are you. Which is why you’ve seen this grotesque display with your own two eyes and yet here you are. You’ve only come closer.”

“That’s not relevant to what I’m saying?—”

“I’d say it’s plenty relevant. What did I tell you the last time we were in this room together? You belong to me. What’s more—you want to belong to me. You want someone you can finally have that connection with. You might be in denial, but that little dark heart beating inside your chest craves me so much you don’t know what to do with yourself. So you seek me out like now and pretend it means nothing when that couldn’t be further from the truth.”

I abandon my worktable and come around to meet her inch for inch. Easily towering over her, she’s forced to tip her head for a gaze up at me. Her luscious, round features so harmonized, so soft yet sultry, I don’t know whether to kiss her on the mouth or grip her by the throat for being as bewitching as she is.

I settle for both—my large hand grabs hold of her by the delicate column of her neck and I plant a deep kiss on her lips. She readily greets me, leaning up into me, parting her lips with a throaty little whimper.

I almost devour her whole right then. Right now. Right on the spot.

Her lips are addicting enough. Warm and full against mine, as I suck on her bottom lip and then explore the inside of her mouth. She plays so well off me and my aggression. It’s a game where I greedily taste every part of her, and she matches me. Her tongue flicks to mine, artful and seductive in how she teases me.

Arousal surges through me. The same carnal need from last night. Still not satiated even after the fuckfest that last night spiraled into.

I pin her against the stone wall and squeeze at the base of her throat in warning. My mouth hovering over hers, I whisper, “Careful, minxy. You might be starting something you won’t be able to handle. I bet that pussy and ass of yours are both still recovering.”

She bites her bottom lip and writhes her hips against me. I’ve pinned her in such a way that my knee’s between her legs, forcing them apart, so when she shifts, she’s practically riding my thigh. Just the denim material I’m wearing and the cotton shorts she’s got on separate us.

I’m tapped in so acutely to every maneuver, every detail of her, that I can practically feel the heat her pussy gives off.