Page 42 of The Black Lotus (Fatal Florals Duet #2)

THIRTY-FIVE

ASTER

T he fear I see and smell coming from Serena’s sweaty pores is enough to make me want to retrieve the can and shove it back into her just to hear her scream again. I do love her screams, both of pleasure and pain. A feral grin twists my face. I haven’t decided which is my favorite yet .

I unlock the restraints holding Serena bound to the bed and watch as she massages her wrists. Guess I made them tighter than I thought. She glares at me with pursed lips, and I’m helpless, leaning in and trapping them between my teeth.

Instead of pushing me away like I thought she would, she moans as we kiss, returning the bite, her teeth piercing into my flesh. She pulls back, taking the skin with her, releasing only when my skin doesn't give anymore.

I grip her waist with a bruising force as she straddles me, her hands tangling in my hair, tugging when she wants more.

She is as addicting as the kills I miss performing.

I haven’t had a moment to think about everything Kara said.

If I’m being honest to myself, she did get in my head about Serena not having a choice in anything.

As much as I keep trying to convince myself, a little part of me does miss being the Morbid Monet.

Killing Kara wasn’t enough; I need more.

I miss the feeling I get when a lamb is laying on my table.

I miss the satisfying ripping of skin as my knife slices through their flesh.

I miss the questions of why and their screams begging me to stop.

But most of all I miss turning them into a Jane Doe.

I miss being the only one to know who they were before.

All the killing we’ve done, we have revealed their true identity, so everyone knows who they were before and after death.

My kissing slows as my grip on her loosens, making her pull back from our kiss, her face concerned. “Hey, where’d you go?”

“Just thinking about the Morbid Monet.” Way to ruin the moment, Aster.

Her face falls and my pulse quickens with the fear I’ve said something I shouldn’t. “Not that I’m not happy-”

“It’s okay,” she interrupts, looking away from me. “You were the Monet for so long, of course you miss it. I’m… I’m sorry I’ve taken you away from that path.”

“You didn’t,” I rush to get out, desperate to reassure her.

“Yes, I miss having little lambs. Yes, I miss the rush of the hunt and the finality of a kill, but I love being half of the Fatal Floral Killers with you. It’s just…

” Frustration of my inability to stop going back and forth over my feelings is making me fumble for the words I desperately want to say.

“Half of who you are is being shadowed by me,” she finishes, her words more of a statement than a question.

I lift her chin, forcefully bringing her eyes to mine, making my intent clear. “I am not your shadow, and you are not mine. We are two halves that make a fucked up whole. But Kara… she got in my head.”

“The Dishonored Bushi?” she asks, taking my hands in hers.

I nod.

“What did she say?”

“She said…” I sigh, phantom ropes and blades digging into my skin.

“She said that just because you killed before, doesn’t mean you were a killer.

That I never asked if you wanted to be like me, I just assumed and you were thrown into it because of your connection to me.

It’s… it’s been eating at me.” I drop my hands from her face, dipping my head too embarrassed to look at her.

She lets go of one hand and lifts my chin to look at her. No empathy or sympathy shines, just determination with a swirl of anger. Anger for me or at me I’m not sure, but I know she won’t lie to me. She will speak her truth and no matter what it is, I will accept it.

“You think you turned me into who I am? That you never gave me a choice in everything that happened?” Her face tightens, her eyes focusing with clear intent as she says her next words.

“I was asleep for so long, Aster. Your darkness wrapped around mine and destroyed the pieces that were keeping me blind. Once the truth of what I did became clear, I didn’t feel remorse.

I didn’t feel guilt. I felt empowered. I had the urge to spill more blood to those deserving of it. ”

Her words have every thought and doubt vanishing as though it was never there. I open my mouth to respond, but she squeezes my cheeks with one hand, her eyes fierce. My cock jumps between us, my vixen setting me aflame unlike anyone I’ve ever met.

“My obsession with true crime became a reality. Imagine my delight when I was the one behind it standing next to the man I was obsessed with. Yes, you did wake the killer inside me, but you did not force me into becoming one. You have done nothing but help me embrace my true self, and I never want you to doubt who we are.” She pushes against my chest, my back hitting our bed as she straddles my waist with a ferocity that surprises us both.

“We are the Fatal Floral Killers.” She grabs my erect cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up to her cunt.

“If you ever doubt yourself again,” the tip barely passes through her lips, “you won’t get sex for a month. ”

Losing my patience, I grip her waist and slam her down onto my cock, our moans filling the air.

“You could never go that long without me inside you.”

“Do you want to find out just how stubborn I can be?” she gasps, grinding down on me.

I thrust into her and her hands slam down onto my chest. “You look delicious covered in whip cream, but I prefer you covered in me instead.”

She bounces harder and faster, the sounds of her ass slapping against my balls sending shockwaves of pleasure into me. “I’d rather your release be inside me than on me.”

“That can be arranged.”

Her nails scrape down my chest, leaving scratch marks, next to the scars of Kara’s blade.

Teaching Serena to channel her pain into pleasure was helpful, necessary more than either of us thought possible, but I wish I took part in that training myself.

I love when she bites, scratches, and even cuts me, but her marks don’t leave scars, they just make me bleed.

Kara left lasting scars that will always be a reminder to never let my guard down again.

“Aster,” Serena moans, quickening her pace as her pussy clenches around my cock.

“That’s it, Serena, coat my cock in your cum.”

Thrusting deeply into her, we explode at the same time, my balls constricting as her pussy clenches around me. “Fuck,” I grind out.

She collapses onto me, her breathing heavy as she draws circles around the tattoo on my chest. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her to the side and kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be right back.”

She hums as I go to the bathroom to get a washcloth.

When I return, she’s half awake. I wipe the cum dripping down her legs, then all the sugar off her body.

Gathering all the food from the bed, I place it on the side table before cleaning myself and crawling into bed next to her.

Wrapping my arm around her, I throw the blanket around us, my body relaxing for the first time in weeks.