Page 28 of Lethal (Wellard Asylum #1)

I can’t move, not only because of the straitjacket, though that doesn’t help, but because they’re both so close, and they’re tearing at my defenses.

The strong, dense walls I had built so long ago are beginning to crumble, and I’m unsure whether to mourn their destruction, or celebrate their demise.

Bash is kneeling in front of me, his gaze cool and endless.

He’s a promise of pain and ecstasy all wrapped into one, a blade wrapped in velvet, just waiting to slice me open.

Will I survive this night in their hands?

Do I even want to, after what I’ve just done?

My eyes try to catch a glimpse of the dead man still lying on the ground, silent now like a tomb.

I did that, I ended someone’s life, and I enjoyed it.

The truth is glaring and impossible to deny.

The monster inside of me stretches wide, impossibly filling every part of me, until there is no her and me, but just us, two entities that both understand that we must now coexist.

“Do you feel it now?” Bash questions, his tone not giving his feelings away.

I try to clear my throat, my mouth filling with saliva and dread.

“Feel what?” I have an inkling of what he’s asking me, but I’m not sure I can put words to it yet.

To acknowledge the harm I have once again committed.

Another person dead at your hands, you’re a murderer, drowning in sin, you’ll never salvage your soul now, and that is glorious.

Bash’s finger caresses my cheek with a soft touch, one I wouldn’t think him capable of.

He has been surprising me lately, revealing all these different facets beneath the serial killer persona.

Is it the real him that I’m seeing, or the version he wants me to see?

I don’t bother attempting to pull away. I can feel Wren stalking behind me, circling, muttering to himself, his footsteps soft and jagged like broken glass.

“Freedom,” Bash quietly states, his breath skating over my lips, and my tongue slides out to catch his taste.

“That thing inside you, Caterina. The one who watched blood spill and smiled . We know it. We love it. It will always belong to us.”

“We love it.“ His words rumble through my mind, round and round on repeat, like a circus carousel. Are either of them even capable of love? Their past would dictate that impossible, and yet I’m no longer sure. They love each other and refuse to be parted, so why can’t they love someone else, too?

Love me. I want so badly to be loved, and wanted.

To finally be accepted somewhere, and stop hiding who I am.

All the years of concealment, of masking my feelings, of living by others’ expectations, have weighed me down like a massive boulder tied around my waist, slowly drowning me.

Do I love them? I’m not sure that’s what I feel; it’s more like a tightly woven obsession, one that I no longer want to part with, or make excuses for.

They’ve helped release something in me that was a prisoner, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.

Hot tears slide down my face as I nod in his direction, trusting that he won’t use my surrender against me.

“Yes,” I agree, “I feel it.”

Bash leans closer, his lips pressing against my ear, and a shiver ripples through my confined limbs. “ Good girl, now we are going to both claim you. We’ll fill every part of you, until there’s no you and us, we’ll just be one.”

My breath hitches as arousal floods me, and my core tightens.

All of my hesitations and excuses are instantly forgotten, even killing a man in cold blood is no longer prevalent in comparison to wanting the twins for myself, and what they can provide me.

A moan escapes my lips as I try to capture Bash’s mouth, but he moves away from me, denying me what I need most. No, please don’t refuse me, use me any way you want, I’m yours!

I almost utter the pleading, humiliating words, but at the last minute, I swallow them.

Be strong, or they will eat you alive, perhaps even literally.

Wren moves behind me, his rough fingers sliding across my fevered flesh. He grabs both of my asscheeks in his tight grip and squeezes, until a pained groan exits my lips, and Bash quickly swallows it. “Pretty Doctor, with pretty skin, missing my touch, so let me in,” Wren sings behind me.

Bash’s mouth presses urgently to mine, and his teeth nip at my bottom lip, demanding entrance.

Our tongues and tastes tangle together as he lashes the inside of my mouth, and I wish my hands were free, so I could dig my fingers into his thick, obsidian tresses, and hold him tight to me, demanding that he never let me go.

I growl in frustration as I yank on my restrained arms, breaking the kiss. “Free me. Now, Bash!”

Wren’s fingers slide between my asscheeks, stroking where I need him most, round and round, until I think I’ll go as mad as they are.

“Oh no, broken porcelain doll, that would ruin all the fun.” Wren leans in, putting pressure on my restrained arms, and I feel his hard cock press between my folds, as his breath ghosts the shell of my ear.

“Let’s peel her open, Bash. I want to see the dark things squirm.

” The engorged head of his cock penetrates my tight hole, but goes no further, taunting me.

Somehow, Wren’s threat doesn’t frighten me, and I know that should worry me.

Am I numb, or naive to the reality of what is happening here?

Do I even care if I live or die anymore?

Bash doesn’t smile; he never does when it matters most. His eyes gaze into mine without any expression.

Arousal and fear wrap themselves tightly around me, as I stare into those merciless blue-gray eyes.

The eyes of a killer, two of them, and like the wretched fool I am, I have just consented to be theirs.

“We’re not done,” he says, eyes still locked on mine. “Not until you tell us.”

Alarm bells ring loudly inside my head, and something coils deep within me, something predatory, and ready to defend itself from the light Bash is attempting to drag it out into. “I have told you,“ I rasp. “I told you about the guard. About what I felt.”

“You gave us the surface ,“ Bash replies, voice low, and his lips quirk upward in a sinister smirk.

“But we smell something deeper. Something older, and it stinks of guilt, porcelain dolly.” Wren thrusts fully inside of me, bottoming out in one harsh go, and a scream rips from my mouth with the sudden pain, and echoes off the padded walls.

He’s so large and thick that I feel like I’m being torn in two.

“FUCK!” Yes, that’s what we need, the violence and depravity, not the softness that has left us unsatisfied in the past.

“Oh, little toy, we haven’t even begun to fuck you, and you haven’t even started to scream yet, but you will.

” Bash’s lips slam against mine in a bruising kiss, as his brother pounds inside of my pussy so roughly that the desk begins to move across the floor with a screech.

Wren begins to sing again, a jagged little tune that has my fingernails digging into my palms, and my teeth biting down on Bash’s tongue, until the taste of his blood fills my mouth, and I groan deep in my throat with satisfaction.

“Tell the lie, eat the boy, hide the knife, break the toy…”

The sound of my and Wren’s skin slapping together, combined with my wetness, is loud and obscene, and pushes me close to the edge.

Wren pinches my clit, and I scream into Bash’s mouth before he pulls away.

My orgasm is rising up my spine in a rush of heat, every one of my muscles tensing in readiness, and just before I explode, Wren pulls out of my pussy with a loud chuckle, and a slap to my asscheek.

“Naughty, Doctor, you don’t get to cum, you haven’t screamed enough yet, we haven’t seen your sharp teeth! ”

No, fuck, no! How could he do that to me? I was so close! Rage spirals inside of me, a match set to a gasoline-drenched pile of kindling. “Shut up,” I croak, tears filling my eyes once more. I meant to scream it, but it came out small, weak, defeated, just like me in this precarious moment.

Wren crouches behind me, I can’t see him, but I can feel his hands grazing the back of my thighs, his fingers twitching, like he’s itching to cut his way in.

He leans forward and presses his face against my asscheeks, using his hands to pry my globes apart, and licks my puckered hole.

“Yummy tasting candy,” Wren groans against my flesh, as his tongue thrusts past my ring of muscle, and inside of my ass.

I squirm and bite down on my lip, trying to suppress my moans, but it’s no use, his mouth on me feels so good.

My clit throbs painfully, the denied orgasm rising once again.

Bash leans forward, lips inches from mine. “You don’t get to cum,” he grips my chin, his fingers biting into my skin, “not until you give in . Tell us the truth, little toy, and we can make it all feel like a pain-filled heaven, but lie to us, and it will feel like an unmerciful hell.”

”I don’t... ”

“Yes,” he cuts in, tone sharp enough to cause the hairs on the back of my neck to rise with wariness. “You do, you’re not here for your cousin. You’re here because you’re trying to rewrite the past. Trying to make yourself into a savior. Who are you trying to save, little toy?”

My whole body tenses and goes ice cold. I no longer feel Wren’s fingers and lips.

I don’t hear any other sounds except loud static.

How does he know? He can’t know, it’s not possible.

No one knows, at least not anyone who is still breathing.

My mind wants to immediately shut down to protect itself, and my heart pounds like a drum inside my chest, threatening to detonate.

I can’t seem to get enough air in my lungs, and I gasp over and over, and they don’t do anything to help me.

In fact, I would guess that both of them are utterly enjoying witnessing my misery, and distress, the sadistic monsters.

Help me! Fuck, please, someone help me! I’m suffocating on my misdeeds and regrets.

They’re rising like tsunamis, that will wipe everything out in their path.

I just want to forget. I don’t want to have to face more of my mistakes.

“You’re trying to undo something,” Bash resumes.

“But the decay’s too deep. Isn’t it?” Wren claps again before biting my left asscheek, and forcing a scream from my lips. “Maybe she did the killing,” he sings gleefully. “Maybe the pretty doctor’s the worst one of all. A killer, one just like us.”

No, this isn’t happening, it can’t be. They can’t know, no one can know.

“I didn’t kill anyone!” I shout, “Not before that man, dead on the ground!” The silence that follows feels like the room is holding its breath.

My head spins with the raging panic attack engulfing me.

I’m having trouble taking a deep breath, and being unable to sit up isn’t helping me.

Bash tilts his head, calm and devastating, as his fingers reach out, gripping my face between the palms of his hands, and forcing me to meet his gaze. “No?” he says softly. “Then why do you still dream of him hanging there?”