Page 19 of Your Devoted Monster

Gabriel's breath caught on the first slice, then came out in a rush. "Fuck?—"

A choked sound ripped from his throat as he lost it completely. His hands scrabbled at Ezra's thighs, trying to hold on, trying to anchor himself, failing. His hips jerked up in sharp, uncontrolled thrusts, fucking into Ezra like he didn't have a choice, like his body had taken over completely.

The composed, meticulous serial killer—gone. Just this: Gabriel shaking apart, blood running down his chest, Ezra's initial carved over his heart, coming so hard he couldn't breathe.

Ezra felt every pulse of it. Gabriel filling him up while falling to pieces.

And Ezra had done that.Hehad broken Gabriel. The power of it was overwhelming.

But Ezra wasn't done. He kept moving, riding Gabriel through his orgasm and past it, until Gabriel was gasping and shaking from overstimulation, hips still jerking up involuntarily.

This. This was what Ezra needed to see. Not the composed killer. The raw thing underneath. The human, broken, desperate thing that matched Ezra's own darkness.

The blood was running down Gabriel's chest in rivulets now, pooling in the hollows of his collarbones, and Gabriel was looking at it like it was art, like it was everything he'd ever wanted. Like Ezra had given him the most perfect gift. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, that sharp intellect drowned in endorphins and pain and pleasure all mixed together.

Beautiful. Gabriel looked so fucking beautiful like this—undone, vulnerable,his. Not safe. Never safe. Butreal. The monster showing its soft underbelly, trusting Ezra not to gut him. Or trusting that if Ezra did, it would be worth it.

Ezra carved faster.Z. R. A.Each letter deeper than the last, the blade biting through skin.

Gabriel stared down at it. At his own blood spelling out Ezra’s name across his chest. And the look on his face?—

Ezra came.

No warning, no build-up. Just the sight of that look and he was gone, coming untouched, streaking white across Gabriel'sbloody chest. His vision whited out, the knife slipping from his grip as he doubled over, gasping.

When he could see again, Gabriel was staring up at him like Ezra had just rewritten reality. Like nothing else had ever mattered.

They stayed frozen. Both shaking. Ezra's come mixing with Gabriel's blood, forming inkblot patterns across Gabriel’s skin.

His name. Carved in two-inch letters over Gabriel's heart.

Permanent. Real. No going back.

Gabriel's eyes were soft, unfocused, coming back from wherever the pain and pleasure had sent him. There was blood smeared across his collarbones, his jaw, his lips. A drop of it on his cheekbone that Ezra had the strangest urge to wipe away. His hair was a mess, sweaty and stuck to his forehead. Without all the violence and terror and lust clouding everything, Ezra could see things he'd never noticed before.

The tiny scar through Gabriel's left eyebrow. The curve of his mouth. A small mole just below his ear. The particular way the amber in his eyes caught the dim light, like honey backlit by sun.

Human details. Intimate details. The kind of things you only noticed about someone when you were actuallylookingat them, not just at what they represented.

Gabriel was looking back just as intently, and Ezra knew he was doing the same thing. Cataloging. Memorizing. Seeing Ezra as a person, not just a victim-turned-partner, not just an obsession made flesh.

Just... them. Two completely fucked-up people who'd somehow found each other.

In five minutes they'd probably be at it again—more blood, more violence, three years of feelings still bleeding out between them in all the wrong ways. But right now, in this moment, they were just quiet. Just breathing. Just looking.

It felt more intimate than anything else they'd done tonight.

Gabriel looked down at the blood running down his chest, then back up at Ezra. "You know what this means.”

"What?"

"We match now." His fingers traced over Ezra's scars, the ones he'd made three years ago. "You marked me. I marked you. We're even."

Ezra laughed, dark and broken, the sound echoing off the concrete walls. "We're nowhere near even."

"No," Gabriel agreed, still smiling that dangerous smile. "We're just getting started."

He sat up suddenly, making Ezra gasp as the angle shifted, Gabriel's cock still inside him, still half-hard despite everything. Blood was everywhere—on their hands, their chests, the concrete beneath them. They looked like a crime scene. Theywerea crime scene.

Gabriel's hands came up to frame Ezra's face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones with a gentleness that shouldn't be possible from a serial killer. His eyes were still wild, still dangerous, but there was something else there now. Something that looked like wonder.

"My turn," Gabriel said, voice wrecked and rough, and before Ezra could react, flipped them over, pinning Ezra beneath him.The knife skittered away across the concrete. "You're not the only one who's been practicing."