Page 96 of The Duplicity of Thieves

I glare at him, wanting to tear his face off and cover myself in his blood.

“Open your mouth.”

“Say please,” I taunt him. I’m still fighting him. It’s exhilarating. He slams into me, reaching a new depth.

“I said open your fucking mouth.”

He squeezes my cheeks painfully until I can’t help it. My mouth pops open. Aedon spits in it, followed by a malevolent grin. The void inside of me collides with my sanity. I can’t process it. I can only feel him inside of me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way. I feel fucking happy.

He clamps my mouth shut. “Swallow.”

I instinctively do as I’m told while pure white-hot rage, fueled by arousal, explodes under my skin.

“Fuck you,” I screech through gritted teeth. His hand finds my throat and squeezes so tight that my vision darkens at the edges.

“Gladly. Now shut the fuck up and take my cock.”

His nails scratch down my back as his dick seizes, spilling inside of me. He doesn’t stop. He keeps driving into me as my head beats into the glass. I can feel his cum inside of me, mixing with my juices. The sounds are grotesque and sloppy mixed with my own agonized moans.

“I’m going to make you take my cum until there's nothing left but me inside of you.” He struggles to laugh.

I can’t respond. His words have already got me teetering on the edge. It’s too late.

“I’m-fuck. I’m coming again,” he groans.

I’m already orgasming when he bites into my shoulder for leverage and comes again, seated deep inside of me. I’m exhausted, days of endless rage and adrenaline finally slamming into me. I slump against the glass, rolling onto my back and sliding to the floor, drowning in a rush of oxygen. I’m sticky and sweaty.

He pushes my knees apart and looks at me. I feel him slide his palm through our collective juices, and he shoves his fingers back into me. When he withdraws them, he pushes them into my mouth, sticking them down my throat until I gag on the cum and blood. I close my teeth around them and bite.

“I will fuck you raw, Josie, if you don’t fucking stop,” he growls.

I release him, and suck on his fingers until he pulls them away. We taste divine and disgusting. I survey our surroundings. There’s blood on the counter. It’s streaked on the floor where I tried to crawl away and smeared on the walls of glass that he fucked me against.

“People are going to think you murdered me,” I giggle.

“I did. I murdered your pusy, and I’ll do it again,” he grins, the boyish smile has returned. The darkness has receded in me, fed and calmed. Now I just feel peaceful.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had. Hands down.” I lay my head to the side to look at him sitting against the couch across from me. He’s a beautiful bloody mess.

“Yeah?” He strokes the top of my foot absentmindedly. “You’re not the only one who is gripped by darkness. I told you I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

This man is my husband. Vicious and kind—something I wasn’t sure could go hand in hand. He wears it well. There’s the cool levelheaded man who holds me while I sleep, steals glances at me while I read, smirks at me when I talk shit, and waits on me while still asserting his dominance. Then there's the man who fucks me in blood, gets hard at the thought of violence, and would skin someone alive if they even thought of me. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that his threats are far from empty.

He grabs my ankles and yanks me toward him, placing my feet in his lap, and begins to massage them.

“What happened, love,” he prompts me.

“I killed a man tonight.” I stare at the ceiling. “Well, I tortured him for three days, then someone else showed him mercy.”

“So that’s where you were,” he says. “You’ve done it before. Why was this one different?”

“How do you know I’ve done it before?”

“I’m not blind, Jos. Just an asshole.”

“He was one of our own,” I sigh.

“That bothers you?” he asks with confusion. I’ve never told Aedon about where I’m from. It won’t change anything at this point. We’re fucking married so there’s no reason I shouldn’t tell him anymore.

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