Page 33 of Bathed in Blood

“Okay… The old man is going to fucking—"

“Leave.”

I don’t look at him, but I can picture his wavy locks as he shakes his head, grunting as he grabs Kallen’s hands, tugging him from the room before ordering whoever is guarding outside to help. I wait until the doors shut then open again, someone else retrieving the dead man from earlier. My fists clench as I struggle to control my breathing, control fuckinganything.

Because Lana isn’t screaming anymore, and she isn’t asking to be let out. Her stillness sinks into my bones, chilling me from the inside.

16

Nothing

Duality by Slipknot

Christian

When I walk in, Lana doesn’t react, her body sagging, her back hunched from the carnage she just wielded and the flurry of emotions that came with it. I approach her like you would a rabid and wounded animal, because I don’t do soft.

I don’t know how.

Or even if that’s what sheneeds.

“Lana, it’s done,” I say quietly, waiting for some kind of awareness.

She just breathes heavily, her head turned towards the floor underneath the man’s feet, to the large pool of blood there like it holds the absolution she needs.

“Princess, talk to me,” I order, something oddly akin to panic blooming in my chest.

She doesn’t, and when I remove her mask, tossing it to the side, her eyes are empty, entirely unaware. My hands cup her clammy face, sheeted with sweat, forcing those pretty amber eyes to mine.

“Delicate princess…” My voice is harsher than I want it to be, growly. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, smoothing my thumb over her lips. They aren’t words I’ve muttered in any meaningful way since the night I apologized to my little sister, my dog, for putting a bullet in his head. I apologized to my father, my mom, maybe even God. All I knew was that I was in pain, that I was sorry. I haven’t felt sorry for anything else since, but I’m sorry now.

Still, she doesn’t move, and goddamn if I don’t feel it in my chest. Deeper than that, if possible, like the very marrow of my being is bothered by the idea of her being bothered. It's fucking stupid, and I can’t bring myself to care how illogical my feelings for her are anymore, what they risk.

When I tug her bloody form into mine, she’s ramrod straight, but I don’t let it stop me. Her hair is silky smooth in my hand as I gather it up, exposing her neck.

“I need you, princess. Come back to me.” My lips graze her neck feather light, my tongue darting out to taste her there, her sweet, salty, copper taste exploding on my tongue.

Her breasts push against my chest with each pant, her breath warming the skin beneath my shirt. I want to feel it on my skin. I want all the soft sounds she makes, for her to look at me the way she did in my room. Like maybe, just maybe, I could save her.

“Lana.” I say her name like a prayer as my fingers map out the smooth skin on her back, committing it to memory the way I have every other night. This time, my princess isn’t sleeping while I worship her. This time, I’m desperate for her to know. My teeth graze her neck. “I should’ve taken you earlier. I should’ve slammed you to the bed and forced your pretty thighs apart.”

Her panting falters, just a little, her breath coming slower than it was before.

I nip at her flesh, making her jolt. “That’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to spread your wet cunt so I could see just how badlyyou wanted me.” My roaming, adoring hands turn possessive, owning, and I couldn’t stop them, even if I wanted to. “I want you wrapped around me, crying your sweet little princess tears while I fuck you. You’d cry so pretty on my cock. Tell me, Lana, do you still want me there, between your thighs? Do you want to take my cock?”

Her breath stutters.

“I think you do. All your mean words, your anger, and you’re still so desperate to be fucked by me.”

I school my features when she shifts closer, pressing into me a little more, her forehead digging into my chest. I don’t deserve it, but again, I’m a bastard. When her nails dig into my chest, her small fists clinging to me, I snap. My tender, teasing nibbles turn violent, and I groan heavily as she comes to life, crying out as my teeth latch onto her shoulder, holding her there against me.

“Christian.” Her voice is shaky, so fucking soft.

I press harder into her, my hands gathering the silk of her lingerie and ripping the shorts. They come off clean, and my sweet princess begins shaking all over again. When she tries to pull back, her own hands wrenching at my button down within the small space between us, I nearly growl, biting down harder. It’s like if I release her now, I’ll never get her back. My tongue teases the angry flesh between my teeth, thanking her, tasting her. My hands grip the thin straps of her top, jerking it down over her breasts.

When my teeth pop free, she gifts me a whimper. Her formerly pale cheeks are flushed pink, her pretty amber eyes lidded. She groans as I kneel before her, taking a pebbled nipple into my mouth. Her core rocks, needing friction I won’t give her yet. She came back forme.

“Please.”

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