Page 4

KANE

S he’s soaking my hand. There has never been anything that felt as good as Delilah.

It hasn’t changed now. She’s still the only woman I have ever touched.

She’s in every fantasy. My murderer is the only person who can give me release.

Which is ironic when she’s the one who fucking trapped me in the first place.

I pinch her nipple between two knuckles and twist as I ask, “Was any of it real?”

Why the fuck do I care?

One of the things no one ever tells anyone about prison is that you have too much time and nothing to do. Once you face your worst fears, it all just becomes the norm. The sweats, the elevated heart rate, the tension in every muscle becomes the default. Yet none of it stops the thoughts.

That’s all I’ve had for fifteen years. Thoughts.

Thoughts of what I’d do with my freedom. Thoughts of this fucking cunt telling the truth and being vindicated. Fifteen years. Five thousand, four hundred, and ninety-seven fucking days because she had to fucking lie.

Thoughts and counting. That’s what I had for company.

She whimpers as I push my fingers up inside the treacherous fucking bitch.

“Ka—Kane, please,” she moans.

The skin around her nipple turns red as I twist again, and she sucks in a breath.

“Please what, koukla mou?” I ask, sounding bored.

Her thighs tremble and red lines mark her neck from the abrasive rope. It’s not raw and painful, yet. Delilah twists her shoulders like that will help her, when I’ve tied the lengths of her forearms together. The only way she can get away is if I decide she’s allowed to.

“Please don’t kill me,” she begs so sweetly.

She almost looks innocent as her stubborn tears cling to her lashes.

Her head is barely above mine, meaning there’s too much slack in the rope around her neck.

So I fix it without removing my fingers from her cunt, and press the back of my knuckles to her sternum.

The fear on her face is intoxicating as she gasps, crying out, “Kane!”

Her shoulders twist, causing her to lose her balance as she bends backwards, choking herself, and she tenses to remain on the table legs.

I was many things before Delilah. Cruel was never one of them, and it still isn’t now. But it’s not cruelty when it’s deserved, so I do it again, and one foot slips off the wide perch.

“Kane!” she cries, and her tears slip free. “Please!”

I push two fingers of my free hand over her teeth and pull her back as I laugh.

Her cries are mumbled and spit coats my fingers.

Fuck, she’s still beautiful. Her beauty outshines every bit of dirt I’ve placed on her in an attempt to make her outsides match who she truly is.

It’s all in vain, because the inside of her is so fucking repugnant that she’s used to being around filth.

It’s her comfort. Whoever said you can’t polish a turd hadn’t met Delilah Leroux.

Wind brushes my leg as she kicks out to gain purchase again. Her toes skim the edge of the wood, but she doesn’t react to the pain. She likes it. I can feel just how much as she drips down my fingers. I curl my middle finger inside her as she clenches.

“You’re not just any whore,” I hum. “You’re a little pain slut, aren’t you?”

The little liar doesn’t move her head, so I nod for her with my hold over her teeth.

“I should have known when you hated me getting your ass ready to fuck. Do you remember begging me?” I copy her voice as I say, “ Kane, we only have fifteen minutes before Asher comes back. ” A derisive scoff shakes through my chest as I shake my head, hers too while she glares at me.

“You would’ve let me go in dry just to feel the burn.

You would’ve come on the spot. What a filthy fucking whore you are.

” I look down her body, then fix on my reflection in her eyes.

“It’s fucking pathetic to see what you’ve become. ”

She bites down on my fingers, and I push them further into her mouth. My knuckles scrape against her teeth and sting as she tears at the skin, but there’s nothing other than joy in me.

Fight .

That’s what I want her to do. I need her to show me the sadistic version of her that she hid from me the first time.

Each insidious part allowed her to blindly put a nail in my coffin.

Now, I need to see them openly, so that in the inevitable moments I get weak and tell myself that my pretty girl is still alive somewhere inside of her, I have proof that she never existed.

Delilah’s weak when it comes to dick, but I’m weak when it comes to her.

I’m not the same boy who loved her though. I never will be again. I need all the pain she caused to be inside of her instead of here in my fucking head, constantly repeating on a tormented cycle that I can never escape.

Her thrashing gives me a target as she shakes her tits in my face.

Tightening my hold over her teeth, I push my fingers up until my knuckles are pressed against her soaked flesh, and bite down into the swell of her chest. My jaw locks as she screams around my fingers.

My little doll uses it as an opportunity to steady herself, wrapping her leg around my waist.

I let her skin go from between my teeth, and I can’t contain my amusement as I ask, “You would really die just for dick?”

Removing my fingers from her, I hold her hips and push down. She chokes and splutters, “Fuck. You.”

“With your dying breath? I’d love to.”

I grab her other thigh and she moans as I wrap it around my waist. The noose is pulled taut but she’s so fucking eager for dick—for me—that she doesn’t care and pushes her hips down.

She fights her body’s natural urge to breathe to try and touch me.

It’s fucking powerful to know that’s how much she needs me.

I hold the back of her thighs and automatically pull her higher.

Even after all these years, my instinct is to protect her.

To fucking save her and help her when she ruined me.

The one thing I’ve been craving is right in front of me.

It isn’t between her legs. It’s a different set of lips.

I lean forward and my eyes close as I kiss her.

Everything from my lips is innocent in this moment. We’re teenagers again, with the echoes of her giggling in the past reaching into the present. A shiver works up my spine at the memory of her touch. Of Delilah running her fingers through my hair as she laid on my chest, whispering up at me.