Page 73 of The Blood we Crave

“You better ask me for permission to come, Scarlett.” I sink my teeth into her collarbone in warning.

“Fuck,” she cries, throwing her hips up with no restraint. “Please, Thatcher. Please let me come. I need to come.”

Power floods my veins, searing hot with a chilled burn to match, ice injected straight into my system. It’s like a high I’ve never experienced. This sort of power is dominating, knowing I’m the only one capable of giving her blissful release, that if I stopped, all of that would fall away. She would whine and plead as her orgasm slipped away.

I am the master and she the pretty puppet on my strings.

“You poor, poor thing,” I purr. “You need to come? Well, go on, then, pet. Come for me.”

It takes all of ten seconds before her hips buck up one last time and her throat opens to scream, a shriek of pleasure that sends the rest of those crows flying for the roof. Her body tightens against me, locking up as the waves of bliss wash across her over and over again.

I feel every shiver and aftershock, the ones that make her body twitch and heart beat erratically. My hand drops the knife to the ground, and it clatters against the floor.

My head lifts from her neck, pulling her scent with me on a deep inhale. I make eye contact with her hazy eyes as my bloodstained hand cups her delicate cheek.

“Blood and pleasure look divine on you, darling phantom,” I whisper as I drape two of my fingers towards her already red mouth, slipping them inside and pressing against her warm lips.

Her tongue automatically swirls around me, sucking and mewling at the sinister combination that coats my skin—her sticky, sweet juices and the vile crimson liquid that pumps inside my veins.

The deep slash across my palm still leaks but has clotted enough that I can see the harsh tissue wound. It’ll take several stitches, but it’s the least of my concern.

“Don’t let me see you with him again, yeah?” I say, allowing her to taste herself for a moment longer before pulling away.

A mixture of a cough and whimper croaks from her throat, her eyebrows furrowed, and I can tell by the look in her eyes she is about to argue with me.

I lift my pointer finger in front of her face, wiggling it back and forth. Her mouth snaps shut before she even has the chance to speak.

With ease, I trail my touch to her exposed chest, tracing the letters of my name in the blood pooled atop her pale skin. Over and over, I write my name across her body just above her breasts.

“You can’t—”

“I can and I will,” I warn, leaning dangerously close to her messy face with a voice as cold as winter night. “If Conner Godfrey comes near you again, I will feed him his ownfuckinghands.”

between the keys

FOURTEEN

thatcher

My hands are red.

Throbbing, pruned, and scalding.

My entire body is a fleshy pink and aches as I drag the scratchy material of my loofah across my skin. Except it’s only a dull ache, one I can place in the back of my mind while I continue to scrub.

Clean.

I just want to be clean.

But it doesn’t matter how much soap I cover myself in or how long I stand here, I still feel dirty. This microscopic residue of Lyra will not come off my skin.

I needed to clear up any evidence of what I’d done. What we had done. If I could just scrub hard enough, use enough chemicals, I could erase the taste of her on my tongue, eliminate my blood from the scene of the crime, polish myself until it feels as if nothing had happened between the two of us.

I’ve always been exceptionally good at that, cleaning up messes with such dedication no one would detect any form of foul play. Now, I can barely get off the smell of cherries, and I’m starting to believe I’ve lost my touch.

The loofah falls from my hands as I rest my palms against the cool gray stone of the shower. The stitches laced inside of my skin rub against the material, and the water pours between my shoulder blades as I shut my eyes.

I should see nothing but pitch-black desolation behind my shut lids, void of image and consciousness, yet my mind is relentless in projecting her face and only her face.