Page 106 of From Hell

As blood sprays.

It flutters to the ground.

Jaxon turns to me, eyes feral and soul-sucking, covered in blood. Snarl on his lips. It’s how I imagined the Ripper would look after a kill. He looks like the Devil incarnate come to take my soul to Hell. He looks like Hell itself.

But also…

His presence burns, igniting forbidden heat through my middle.

Without meaning to, I wet my lips. Fear and lust and all the things in between choke me as I stand there and do absolutely nothing but imagine what that snarl would taste like.

I vowed to kill him, but he’s the one pulling the noose tight around my neck.

And I’m not sure I want to escape.

He stalks over, tosses the gun from my shaking hands, and rakes his hands over my body, dragging me closer. The stench of pennies mingles with the smell of him—his vetiver and amber cologne and a masculine scent that brushes my insides like a sweet caress.

I’m putty in his hands as his lips come to my mouth, sucking my bottom lip, tasting me. He kisses me softly, hungrily. It’s at odds with the violence that graced the room only seconds earlier. I let him claim my mouth because my mind is a mess. Only when I taste metal do I kiss him back, just as hungry.

There’s only a tiny voice at the back of my mind.

He slaughters women for fun.

I’m supposed to kill him, not kiss him.

Sparks flame and become an inferno as his tongue delves into my mouth, chasing the voice away, quieting everything but my heart thumping in my chest and the blood rushing in my ears. I let out a moan.

He picks me up. I don’t protest as he shoves me against the wine rack, bottles clanging as he grinds against me.

“Off,” I bite out, grabbing the ends of his shirt. He obliges, dragging the blood-soaked material over his head. It’s not until I run my hands over his chest that I feel them.

I jerk back. Kiss broken, eyes wide, I stare down.

Under my palms are thousands upon thousands of scars.

* * *

JAXON

She doesn’t say a word but traces her finger over the jagged edge of a scar that cuts across my chest. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

Her eyes connect with mine. “Who did this?”

I don’t want to pity so I give her a smirk. “Is my little fox worried for me?”

“These are symbols,” she exclaims. “Someone carved symbols all over your body?” The pitch of anger in her voice warms the fucking blood in my veins.

“My father,” that’s all the detail I care to go into about that subject.

She kisses one of the scars and the licks. Blood rushes to my cock, making my eyes close.Fuck.

When I open them, she’s staring at me, and then slowly, she ducks down. As Laine undoes my belt buckle and releases my straining cock from my trousers, my fists tighten, twisting through her hair.

Her first tentative lick draws a guttural groan from my chest. Then she sighs and takes me fully in her sweet mouth. Sucking hard, from hilt to tip, her hot wet mouth takes all of me in. I’m struggling not to shoot my load early, especially when she makes a hmmm sound, and it slides down my groin making my hips jerk.

“Fuck, baby, yes. Like that. All the way.”