Page 8 of The Cruelest Chaos

“And just how many devils have you met?” I ask her, leaning down close, the blade still against her neck.

I hear her swallow. “Not many,” she admits, “but every time I look in the mirror, there’s one staring back at me.”

Her words make me hornier. I press my mouth to the hollow of her throat, beside the blade. “Poetic,” I whisper. “But just how bad are you?”

“I like to make the devils chase me,” she says in a soft voice, and her back arches off the ground as she presses her body against me.

I bite her neck,hard,and she whimpers but doesn’t try to get away, doesn’t try to move her hands, still pinned to the dirt above her head.

“Now I’ve caught you,” I say against her skin. I let her wrists go, but she doesn’t move.

Her vanilla-like scent is overwhelming my senses. That, and my cock against her stomach. The way she’s spread her legs for me, and I remember she’s wearing a dress.

I feel her breath uneven and quick beneath me, her chest heaving. “Make it hurt,” she whispers.

A nightmare come true.

“I always make it hurt, Ella,” I promise her, trailing my mouth down over her collarbone, the knife still to her throat so she doesn’t move. I push her jacket apart, giving me better access.

She sighs as my tongue dips down into her bra, gliding over her hard nipple. “Then make it dangerous.”

I freeze, my lips on the smooth curve of her breast. My anger shifts to something else. “How dangerous?” I ask her, my heart pounding so fast I can barely get the words out. I already have a knife to her throat. Just how far is she going to let me go?

“How do you feel about necrophilia?” she whispers, no humor in her words. I think about that bone in her hands. The one she held to my cheek.

I’m about to come in my pants, and I haven’t even taken my dick out yet.Who is this girl?“I don’t have many hard limits, kid,” I manage to choke out against her skin.Does she want me to kill her?A small part of my brain tells me this could be a trap. A rape allegation waiting to happen. But a bigger part of my brain—or maybe just my dick—is telling me I’ve hit the fucking jackpot.

She laughs and I bite her again, her laughter dying into a whimper. I push myself against her stomach, running my tongue between her chest, giving attention to her other nipple, biting it gently as it hardens in my mouth.

Another firework goes off, and this time I hear it explode in the sky. It’s not a practice. It’s the real thing. Green shimmers above our heads, and blue follows.

Perfect timing. If she starts screaming, no one will hear her.

“How old are you?” I make myself ask, glancing up at her, her nipple still in my mouth. She can’t see me from this angle, the way I’m still holding the knife, but I can see her.

“You don’t care about fucking dead bodies,” she says a little breathlessly, “but you’re worried I’m underage?”

Red sparks above our heads.

I suck her between my teeth, and she hisses, her eyes falling closed. “Just answer the fucking question.”

“Nineteen,” she whispers, and I toss the knife away, coming up on all fours, her body trapped beneath me.

She looks up at me, a smile on her lips, but she looks vulnerable, too. I like it.

“Nineteen, huh?”She’ll be the youngest pussy I’ve had in a while.

She nods. Red explodes above our head again as I glance up. I see the moon as the sparks of light disappear.

When I look back at her, I can’t read the expression on her face.Is this a fucking setup?Do I care enough to stop? I just ran after her. Tackled her to the ground. Held a knife to her throat.

She doesn’t care.

“Did you come here with just Natalie?” I ask her, trying to keep my voice even. “Is there some poor boy back there that’s going to be missing you?”

She just smirks up at me.

“You probably wouldn’t care, would you? You probably want me more, don’t you? You know that I’ll fuck you better.”