Page 40 of The Devils of Saint City

“No, it’s not. I’m sitting in fucking three day ol— ew. No, I’m not bathing in it. Shock me all you want.” My legs nearly give out when he sets me in the shower and I think I hate them all over again. One dose was actually fun. Two, okay. But six? They didn’t care what damage it did to me. “I’m gonna end up breaking my damn neck.”

“You’re fine, I got you.” Surprisingly, he does. He stays there with me and showers us both without many words, then places me into the tub to soak my muscles. “Feel any better?”

“Lightheaded, but it’s nice to be able to move again. Is this... going to become a regular thing?”

Manson wraps a towel around his waist and leans back against the vanity. “No. As of now we haven’t made plans to do this again, but we might want to play again in the future. I’m thinking six doses was a little excessive though. Your muscles are probably stiff as fuck.”

I don’t dignify that with a response other than narrowed eyes and what I hope is my best bitchface yet.

“If it helps at all, I’d agree to do it again if you promised not to do more than two doses at once. But you have to fucking warn me first. At least let me stretch and eat first.”

“That’s fair,” he agrees. “In my defense, I did plan on warning you, but a certain brute thought his way was the best way.”

As usual.

Closing my eyes, I pretend he isn’t there as I sink down into the water a little deeper. I need food and some uninterrupted sleep, but for now, Manson’s right. This feels amazing on my muscles. And if I know Asher at all, it won’t be long before he comes back ready to settle the score.

I just hope he stops there.

16

Manson

I haven’t been able to shake the thoughts of what we did to Rhea. I feel like a real asshole for getting hard every time, but I can’t help it. I think I’m becoming addicted to her.

Asher is too. When we went to work earlier today, I was surprised he admitted how angry he was about that uneven breeding number. Usually he bottles all of that shit up, but learning the fact that his real anger came from not being able to breed her one last time made me feel a little less guilty. For the first time, her not wanting to be fucked turned him off, and that tells me more than anything else. Deep down, he finally doesn’t just want to cause her pain, and if she’s becoming human to him without his knowledge, this whole situation will go much smoother.

When we get back home, we find her passed out on the living room couch, curled up in a ball. The house is a mess, the laundry is still in the dirty piles we left it in, and the kitchen hasn’t been used in days.

I know what’s coming before it happens.

The noise she releases at that first shock has me closing my eyes guiltily, but Asher has never been good at subtlety. “Oh sorry, did we wake you?”

He’s looking at her like sleeping is a sin when we kept her paralyzed for days. Maybe I was wrong earlier.

“Fuck!” she hisses, rolling off the couch to stand up on still-shaky legs. “Did you even try to wake me up without that?”

“We closed the door,” he replies flippantly, moving closer to inspect her neck. “Does our pet want a little break from her collar?”

Her eyes widen in hope then narrow in suspicion within a heartbeat. “I— yes. You know I do. It itches and I can’t bend my neck all the way.”

“Poor baby.” Ash crouches down to her level with a look in his eyes that has me stepping closer. “Did you have a nice nap?”

At least she has enough sense to look scared as she mumbles, “I guess.”

“Good for you. You want a break?” He grips the collar and tugs her forward. “Earn it then. Be a good girl, and take care of the shit you agreed to, then maybe we’ll consider giving you a little break.”

I hear him, the damn house is a mess, but I also sympathize with her at the same time. I don’t know how to help this situation though, so I keep my mouth shut for the time being as she visibly struggles to keep her emotions in check. Ultimately, she nods. “I’ll need a few hours to get it done. Why don’t you two go have a beer somewhere? Relax? I can text you when I’m done and have dinner ready.”

Asher shakes his head to cut her off. “Nah. We want to watch. Take off your clothes.”

She huffs, thinking he’s kidding, then clenches her jaw and undresses with jerky, irritated movements. It slaps me in the face how much damage we did to her — almost every inch of her body is covered in bite marks and bruises. She has to be miserable. “Satisfied?”

His sharp green eyes rake her frame from his kneeling position, traveling slowly up her legs, lingering on her breasts a little longer before meeting her gaze. “Yes.” Slowly, he stands, leaving almost no space between the two of them as he reaches out to swipe his thumb over a bite mark on her shoulder. “Good girl. Now give Manson a kiss like you missed him.”

Fuck. Why’s he gotta bring me into this? And the fact that he’s ordering her to kiss me is annoying because now she’s goingto begrudgingly do as told — not because she wants to, and I’m going to take it because I’m not strong enough to deny it. I’d fucking love it if she greeted me with a kiss every day.

It’s a little telling that he didn’t ask her to kiss him, though.

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