Page 13 of Lethal (Wellard Asylum #1)

“I know what they did to her,” I reply. I take a seat on the edge of my bed, but refuse to withdraw my eyes from hers.

I don’t want to miss a single reaction of hers.

I need to observe it all, so I can dissect her, and determine what makes her tick.

Then I can use her fears and desperation against her, to get what I want.

“To the girl who used to share your smile. She screamed often in the dark, but no one came.”

She flinches visibly, as if I’ve slapped her, and I can almost see the wheels turning inside her mind.

She’s not sure if she believes me. I guess I can’t really blame her.

I am a psychopathic serial killer, who lured his victims with lies, murdered them, and then consumed them.

Everyone needs a hobby though. I shouldn’t be blamed for my choices.

“Cecelia,” I add softly, and wait for her reaction, and she doesn’t disappoint me. Oh, little toy, I’ll have to teach you how to better conceal your responses, otherwise, the other monsters will tear you apart. We can’t have that, now that you belong to me and Wren.

“I want details, and you will give them to me, so help me, god.” Her hands curl into tight fists, as she finally meets my stare head-on, without backing down.

There’s an underlying furious rage, a bite to her tone.

I find it endearing, almost as much as her demands, and her assumption that she’s still in control here.

The truth is she never was, and as long as I feel like playing with her, she never will be.

“I want your voice lower, and intimate, when you ask,” I utter, rising and stepping forward, until the chains snap taut between my ankles and wrists. “I want your desperation on display for me, little toy. I want to hear how pretty you can beg me, and I need you to mean every syllable, Doctor. ”

She stares hotly at me, murderous intent clear on her features.

My little toy doesn’t like being manipulated.

She doesn’t think she should be subjected to my games and whims. Too fucking bad, I don’t care about her feelings.

She has so much to learn, that this is a game of chess, mixed with Russian roulette.

I have very little to lose, but she... she has everything that she seeks to forfeit.

“Beg me, little toy. Do it prettily on your knees, so that I know whether you really want my knowledge or not. You, of course, can keep attempting to find the truth that you seek on your own, if you don’t wish to heed my price. ”

Her emotions skate across her face in quick concession, and my favorite is defiance.

She’s going to tell me to go to hell, and storm out of here.

A part of me is already mourning her absence as her sweet scent infiltrates all my senses, and makes me groan.

Fuck, she smells so good, like sunshine and fresh, ripe strawberries.

She smells like the freedom I’ve had taken away from me so unfairly.

I have nothing left to lose, does she realize that?

She must, because, with trembling control, she leans forward, her eyes narrowing on me, before she lowers to her knees and whispers, “Please.”

Ah, music to my deranged ears. She’s in it now.

Deep. Drowning. Delicious. Mine. My cock hardens instantly, tenting the cheap material of my sweatpants, and her eyes flick downward, catching my current state.

That’s right, beauty, look at what you do to me.

“You think Halstead’s the monster,” I say. “You’re only half right.”

Her eyes flare with shock, the deep brown looking like pools of rich coffee I want to drown in, and her eyebrow quirks upward, as if she hasn’t comprehended my words. “What do you mean? That makes zero sense, fucker.”

Oh no, my little toy, not so fast. If you want information, I’ll need more from you.

This is a give-and-take situation, and I’m not that generous.

“Crawl to me on all fours, arch your back like a sexy pussy cat, and I’ll answer your next question, don’t, and you can leave.

Perhaps go and ask Halstead yourself.” I force my eyes away from her, placing a bored expression on my features, even though inside, my blood feels like hot lava coursing through my veins.

Submit to me, little toy, show me that you know you’re mine.

“I think you’re lying, fucker. You don’t know shit, and you’re playing a sick game with me, Sebastian.

One I don’t wish to fucking play.” She leans upward until she’s just now on her knees, and folds her arms across her chest, a look of fury crossing her face, as her lips form into a straight line of discontent.

I should discipline her for using my birth name, and calling me a fucker, but right now, I’m impressed with the way she’s handling herself.

How sexy you are when you’re furious. You’d look so much better if I had one of my hands wrapped tightly around that pretty throat of yours, and the other threaded through your hair, ripping out the thick strands while I force my huge cock down your tight throat, and make you choke on it.

I see she needs a little more convincing, and I’m in the mood to be a benevolent god to her.

That’s right, when I’m done with this broken, fragile woman, she will only pray at my altar.

“Halstead doesn’t act alone. There are at least two others involved, and a few of the guards.

” That gets a reaction from her; her pupils blow wide, and her breath wheezes out of her.

Her gaze twitches to the doorway, where at least one of the guards is still outside.

It humors me to allow her to think he might be one of them.

I don’t bother to correct her assumption.

I enjoy the thought of her fearing him, when she believes she can use them to do her bidding.

She didn’t expect that I would know that information, didn’t want to think that I might truly have the answers she’s seeking.

“ Crawl , Doctor, or leave. Don’t waste any more of my time.

You will learn to give me what I want, and in turn, I will reward you, my sweet toy. ”

Her eyes meet mine before she gets on all fours again, sways that sexy ass, covered by the ugly skirt she’s wearing, and crawls toward me. She never breaks the connection between us, and in her eyes, I see the promise of violence, of my death even, and I welcome it.

I knew she was perfect for me and Wren.