Page 116 of The Beautiful Dead

His response was a choked moan, fingers fisting in my hair, dragging me into a kiss that was all teeth and bloody desperation. I bit his lower lip, hard enough to coax a fresh drop of crimson to stain them. The taste burst across my tongue, copper and ruin and Remi.

I swallowed his gasp, his moan, his everything. As I pounded into him, my hands slid underneath his ass, hauling him up, changing the angle so I pegged his prostate with every brutal thrust. Sweat slicked his crimson stained skin, like fractured rubies.

His body tensed one muscle at a time until he was frozen. The muscles in his channel rippled around me with a pulsing heat as I shuttled into him, my hips slapping against his bruised flesh, pushing him higher and higher.

“Fuck! Fuck! Please…. pl….” his words devolved into a broken moan.

“Come for me,piccolo agnello.”

Remi shattered beneath me, his release painting both our bodies, hot and thick. The sight of him, ruined and spent, slick with cum, trembling in my grip, sent me over the edge.

I poured myself into him, claiming him in the only way that mattered. My vision whited out as my cock pulsed inside him. Spurt after spurt of my cum filled him. So much that it seeped out around my length as I continued to rock into him, prolonging both our orgasms.

When it was done, we lay tangled in the aftermath. Bodies slick. Breath ragged. But I wasn’t finished. I scooped up the cum coating his stomach, lifted my fingers to my lips, and sucked them clean.

Remi’s eyes burned, dark and knowing.

I leaned forward, braced my hands on either side of his head, and kissed him, deep and slow, feeding him his release, passing it back and forth, until we’d swallowed every drop.

Mine. Always.

The storm settled, but my mind was already shifting. Hunting for a way out of our prison. And that’s when I saw it. The vent. Partially obscured by the ornate furniture.

Remi followed my gaze, and within seconds, he was dressed in his shredded clothes and moving. Silent. Efficient. Deadly.

I let him go. I should have stopped him. Should have tied him to this bed, kept him here forever.

But I didn’t.

Because the hunt wasn’t over yet.

He disappeared into the darkness. Gone like he had never been here. Only the taste of his cum on my tongue reminded he was real and not just a figment of my imagination.

Silence stretched. The ticking of the clock on the nightstand grew obnoxiously loud. Jolting me with every tick. A muscle twitched in my jaw as I clenched my teeth and hauled what little in the way of clothing I had back on.

And waited.

A soft click coming from the door drew my attention. I pushed up off the bed and stepped silently over to it. The handle turned, wiggling from side to side before the sound of a lock barrel engaging filled the air.

The door unlocked.

A slow, sharp grin curled at my lips as Remi stepped through the door. A devastating grin twitched the corners of his kiss-bruised lips.

And just like that, the hunt began. We needed to find weapons and burn this place to the ground. I wouldn’t leave here until everyone was dead and buried under a pile of rubble.

“Are you alone?”

My hand wrapped around his wrist and yanked him into me, unwilling to be separated another second. I’d drag him through hell at my side rather than spend a moment without him.

His skin was hot beneath my grip, damp with sweat and streaked with grime. But he was breathing. Alive. Mine.

“I didn’t see anyone,” he murmured, voice hushed but sharp. “But I heard voices down the hall.”

The door shut behind him with a soft snick.

“Where did the vent lead?”

I cupped his face, fingers pressing in like I could mold him into me, merge us into something monstrous and whole. My thumbs dragged over the grime streaked across his cheekbones, smearing filth like war paint. Mine.

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