Page 53 of The Hand that Frays

“The job is done,” she says, and I drop the last finger, not caring where it lands.

“Kneel,” I command, my voice harsh, but I know she won’t take it to heart.

She doesn’t listen, however.

I storm across the room, fisting her hair and yanking her head back. “Do you think it wise to disobey me? I told you early on that you’d need to comply with the Butcher’s commands, stupid girl. Now is not the time to test me.”

Not when the scent of blood is heavy in the air, and my soul is filled to the brim with malice.

“Make me,” she prods, her tone dour.

“You stupid fucking girl,” I grind out, using her hair to shove her to the floor.

Her knees buckle under the pressure, and she falls to her knees beneath me.

I pull my blade, running it the length of her cheek as I toy the tip under the lower swell of her eye.

She hisses but doesn’t recoil. “What will you do to me?”

“For your disobedience?”

She nods.

My other hand frees my cock from the tight confines of the jeans it’s been hard against for hours.

“I’ll remind you who the fuck you belong to,” I tell her, slapping my dick against her face.

“Suck, you rebellious little whore!” I growl, hissing, as her tongue slinks out and laps at the pre-cum at the tip of my length.

When she sinks me into the swelter of her mouth, my knees nearly buckle.

Murder and mayhem are knotting together in the air surrounding us, and it alone is enough to make me feel unstable.

But the clutch of Lyla’s mouth? That’s enough to make me fucking feral.

Psychotic, even.

“Harder, suck me harder,” I plead, forgetting who’s in charge altogether as I press the tip of my blade into the side of her neck.

She moans and does as she’s told.

A maniacal laugh makes its way from my throat. “There’s my delusional, stupid girl. Suck your husband’s cock like the murderous little slut I know you are. Suck it good, and I’ll let you come.”

She speeds her mouth on my dick, adding a hand to jerk me simultaneously. The action has my body burning, and my knees bend, bowing slightly in surrender.

She knows who’s in charge, and it’s not me.

It’s never been me.

Since she crawled across the floor of that asylum with my pills on her tongue, I’ve been at her fucking mercy, gobbling up the bits she’d give like a starving man.

“There’s my girl, not so fucking stupid after all. Gag on it,” I manage, my voice sounding like it’s grinding over sandpaper.

She gags, and the noise fills the otherwise silent space, besides the sloppy drags of her mouth on my cock.

“I’m going to come. Fuck, I’m going to come. You’d best swallow it all, stupid love. Don’t waste an ounce of the Butcher’s cum.”

When she doesn’t respond, I use my one empty hand to backhand her cheek the best I can from my angle above. “Do you fucking hear me?”

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