Page 17 of Sadist (The Triarchy Collection #1)

OCTAVIA

I want her.

I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I want Theo.

It felt like madness, a slow, all-consuming need that was taking over everything.

If I wasn’t mentally replaying the moment her fingers had sent me into an earth-shattering orgasm, I was making up new and inventive scenes in my mind to torture myself.

And worse, Theo showed absolutely no interest in touching me again.

No… worse is admitting to myself how much that stung.

It was Saturday, the days having passed much like the rest. Theo had found things to do around the building that kept her busy, I had read a large portion of the titles on her Kindle.

This only added to the predicament I was in, and we somehow managed to skirt around the huge Octavia-shaped elephant in the room as to what was going to happen to me.

Theo had become quieter with each passing day, and my anxiety was growing by the hour with the fear that it meant she had decided to hand me over to this “Erryn” who had already called twice to enquire about Theo’s recovery.

I don’t know why, but each of those calls had made me bristle.

She talked to her in a relaxed tone she didn’t use with anyone else…

not to mention she had mistaken me for her when she had woken after her injuries.

I listened to the sound of the shower running with rising misery, mentally counting down the days until the inevitable.

The water stopped, bare feet padding across the floor to the monitors, and I glanced up, my jaw dropping as I took in the sight of Theo completely nude and leaning over her desk to check something on the screen.

I was transfixed. Her damp hair hung free down to the small of her back, covering the tattoo that stretched across the lean lines of muscle.

Both of her arms were sleeved with tattoos, and from the side view I had, I could see the sharp V lines of her abdomen that I was dying to run my lips across.

Her thighs held my attention for far too long.

I knew what it felt like to run my hands up them, soft skin that I could sink my fingers into, the muscle beneath flexing as she held herself in place.

“You’re staring,” she murmured over her shoulder, not bothering to look at me.

I ripped my gaze away, then frowned and glared at her. What the hell did she expect?

“You don’t want me to look at you?”

She chuckled and shifted her weight, spreading her legs further as she clicked across into a new screen, typing something with quick, efficient taps.

“Look all you want, Sweets.”

Fuck me. My mouth was watering as I devoured the sight of her, and she bent further forward to press the button on one of the far monitors, one leg rising just off the ground as she did, giving me a perfect view of delicate pink lips that parted just a little.

There was a clatter as the Kindle fell to the floor, and I lunged to pick it up, relieved to see it had survived, and when I looked back, Theo was strolling toward her room with her towel over her shoulder.

“You’re just going t—” I cut myself off, clenching my jaw shut.

“Just going to what?” Her voice drifted out from her room.

I refused to answer her, picking up the Kindle and then putting it down roughly on my pillow. I tapped my foot for a moment, my eyes on her doorway. My body was humming with repressed everything. Energy, frustration, desire, irritation. I felt everything, and nothing of what I truly wanted.

Pushing myself off the couch, I stalked to the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water, and stared angrily at the mural on the wall.

“I asked you a question.” Theo’s whispered words disturbed the hair at the nape of my neck, and I jumped, a strangled sound escaping me as I fumbled the glass. Her arm came around me, a strong hand enclosing mine, steadying the glass as water sloshed over both of our wrists.

The only physical connection I had with her was where her hand cradled mine, and that touch alone sent every nerve ending in my body into overdrive.

“You’re torturing me,” I said, trying to pull my hand away and failing.

“If you think this is torture, you can’t handle me,” she murmured, taking the glass.

I turned as she sipped from it, smirking at me over the rim. She had put on a loose T-shirt, though her legs were still bare.

“You underestimate me,” I hissed. I don’t know why her words irritated me so much, but I wanted… god, I didn’t even know.

I wanted.

Wanted her to look at me with more than doubt. Wanted her to see me. Not just to be seen, but seen by her —and I hated her for it. For burrowing her way under my skin and making me want someone after the safety of not needing anyone. I was addicted to the feel of her attention on me.

“Do I?” The question was a low murmur that ran along my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You are quite the conundrum, Sweets. Your want is written so clearly on your face, yet you won’t give in to it. It leads me to believe that I was wrong about you.”

“Show me what you think I can’t handle, and watch me prove you wrong,” I said, searching her eyes. “You will find me very hard to break.”

She studied me for a long moment, then slowly held the glass to the side and dropped it. It shattered on the ground, water splashing our legs, but her eyes never left mine.

“Pick up a piece,” she whispered.

I glanced down, spotted a shard of glass by my foot, and crouched to pick it up. My face was level with her thighs, and my head emptied of all thought as I realized she wasn’t wearing underwear. Theo’s fingers slid into my hair and held me there.

“Kiss me,” she murmured, guiding my head to her thigh.

My lips met her warm, soft skin, and I kissed her gently, daring to glide the tip of my tongue along her skin. Her fingers clenched in my hair, drawing out a delicious burn as she pressed me against her upper thigh, over a deep bruise.

“Kiss,” she ordered.

I did, placing a long, lingering kiss there before continuing up her body.

A kiss on one of the small dermal piercings above her pussy, another between her breasts through her T-shirt.

The scent of her skin at her collar—where I stole yet another kiss—filled my senses.

My breath caught as her grip on my hair tightened, and she tilted my head back.

“How far are you willing to take this dance, Sweets?” she murmured, her eyes searching my face.

“Are you this cautious with everyone you fuck?”

She smirked.

“No.”

“Then dance,” I said, my voice breathy. “Unless you’re all talk?”

The slow smile she gave me was lethal. “Touch yourself,” she ordered as she took the shard of glass from me, her gaze raking my face.

I slid my hand down the loose pajamas I wore and between my legs, my fingers slipping through the arousal already coating my thighs.

“Slowly,” she murmured, entranced.

I slid my fingers around my clit, my breath catching as I pressed down a little harder, finding the perfect angle. My scalp burned as she tipped my head back further, her lips skimming the hollow of my throat.

“Fuck,” I breathed, trying to focus on my movements.

Her knuckles skimmed up my belly, over the tank top I wore, until she got to one of the straps. She sliced one strap with the glass, and it fell limp down my shoulder, then repeated the action on the other, before running it gently along my exposed collarbone.

My heart was pounding in my ears as the cold tip of the glass pressed just below the bone, the weight of her gaze still on my face as she pressed it down in a slow, shallow slice along my skin.

I gasped, my hand losing its rhythm on my clit.

“I didn’t say stop,” she warned.

I whimpered, the burn of the cut turning to a sting that had me clenching against nothing, aching for more.

“I need—” I broke off, ashamed of what I had almost said.

Her lips brushed over the pulse point in my neck.

“Need what, Sweets?”

“Your fingers,” I gasped, my movements erratic.

“You haven’t earned those yet,” she said, the slow drag of the glass exquisite torture. My collar flared with pain, and she tilted her head, watching my face with those mesmerizing eyes. “Come for me, and I’ll give you a reward.”

She moved the glass to my other collarbone, and I moaned as it dug into my flesh, the warm trickle of blood sliding down my skin.

“That’s my girl,” she murmured as my breathing hitched and faltered. “You look so pretty in red. Show me how well you can come for me.”

My leg buckled as the orgasm hit me hard and fast, though it passed just as quickly. I vaguely heard the shard clatter to the floor, gasping as her thumb ran along the shallow slice before sliding up my neck, my blood sticky against my skin as she kissed me, long and thoroughly.

“Get on the bed.”

I nodded against her kiss, breathless, and she released me.

For the brief moments it took me to walk to her bed, the absence of her touch felt stark against the fire that had just consumed me. I paused by the edge, not wanting to get the blood that was smeared across my chest on it.

A drawer closed behind me, and I turned to see Theo pulling a buckle tight around her hips, a smirk on her lips.

“You think you can handle me? I’m going to fucking ruin you. Take your clothes off and get on the god-damned bed.”

I was trying to hide that my thighs had involuntarily pressed together, a warmth starting low in my belly as she clipped the toy into the front of the strap.

I held her gaze as I stripped and settled myself in the middle of the bed, leaning back on my hands with more than a little satisfaction when her eyes dipped to my breasts, lingering on the piercings.

I ran my fingertips over one, and it tightened around the metal bar, the new piercing still sensitive, then slid my hand down my body, the ache near unbearable, even after one orgasm.

“Did I say you could touch yourself again?” Theo warned, kneeling between my thighs and slapping my hand away. “The next orgasm you have is mine.”