Page 90 of The Ecstasy of Sin

Blood splatters in every direction, bathing me in the liquid heat of his life as I force it from his worthless body. I’m soaked in red, the floor painted beneath me.

I am the epitome of pleasure and rage, colliding with the force of a comet striking the Earth.

His face is caving in under my heavy fists, the thinnest bones of his skull shattering. He’s dying, and I can’t fucking stop. The siphon below drinks his blood greedily, feeding the crowd’s appetite like a god demanding sacrifice.

A part of me wants to fuck his demolished face while he dies. But the part that needs to reach Wren—that part wins.

When his body finally goes limp beneath me, I start to slow down. My arms are shaking from the exertion, my breathing ragged. He’s a wreck of blood and ruined flesh, his chest rising with shallow, rapid breaths as his body slips into crisis.

I can almost hear the wet, rattling breaths over the din of the crowd as his lungs desperately try to maintain function. Instead of air, they pull in rivers of blood and spit.

With relentless cheers and shouts from the drunk crowd, I stagger to my feet and scan the endless sea of screaming faces for Wren.

As I break through the haze of my own madness, my desire to find her and take her away from here becomes paramount.

I’m fighting to steady my breathing, my heart hammering in my chest. Several feet away from where I first saw her, I find her again.

She’s standing behind Torin, who is shielding her from the scene, while Ghost’s fist connects with Dimitri’s jaw.

I draw a deep, steadying breath into my aching lungs as Ryker’s men rush in, grabbing Dimitri and the Bratva scum who have stepped up in support of their Pakhan.

I stare at Dimitri as he looks at his brother, who’s dying in the cage and soaked in blood, there’s a haunted expression on his face. He’s realizing that his plan to distract me by touching what’s mine backfired in the worst way.

When he drags his eyes to mine, his face contorts with rage. A psychotic grin curves my mouth, and I call out to him through the chaos, hoping he reads my lips. “I’m going to kill you.”

He’s dragged out of my line of sight.

My eyes find Wren again, where she stands crowded against Torin’s back, her arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to soothe her nerves.

I take several steps toward her, before the blood-soaked wall of the cage blocks my way.

With a snarl, my fist connects with the barbed wire, tearing the bloodied and tattered black wrap away from my busted knuckles.

I have to get to her.

Tilting my head back, I scan the upper edge of the cage. There’s an opening at the top, two feet wide along the eastern wall. And there, just to the right of the door, is a strip without barbed wire.

It’ll be faster than waiting for Ryker’s crew to unlock the gate, and faster than trying to get through the basement and back out into the club.

Running for the eastern side of the cage, I launch myself up and begin scaling the unforgiving steel mesh, climbing with every ounce of rage still burning through me. The crowd erupts in chaos as I climb out of the blood soaked pit like the devil himself.

When I reach the top, I don’t hesitate to slide through the gap and begin the descent into the ravenous crowd below.

When my boots hit the ground, I leap the guard rail and disappear into the swarm. Countless hands reach for me, their fingers sliding through the blood and gore clinging to my skin. Screaming faces press in from every side, praising me, worshipping me, and begging for my attention. I am their god.

But my eyes are only for my goddess—for Wren.

Her body is turned toward me, looking like my own personal brand of heaven in that little black dress she chose to wear tonight.

Her eyes are wide with shock as she regards me like the lethal, crazed predator that I am. Coming right for her.

She visibly relaxes when I get to her, my blood-soaked hands reaching out to grab her and drag her to me. She doesn’t even flinch when my bloodied chest collides with hers, her wide eyes looking up at me like she’s so relieved that she’s finally safe again.

My lips crash into hers in a rough, claiming kiss. I know she tastes the blood on my lips, and can feel the savagery still coursing through me like a starved fire.

So when she doesn’t pull away, or look at me with fear, it absolutely ruins me.

Her body is so soft against mine. She’s everything I’m not, and everything I fucking need.