Page 173 of Property of Necro
Refusing to meet my gaze, Coffin scratches the top of my chicken’s head with a single finger.
“Just say it. Now’s the time. Trust me,” Rot urges.
“Coffin?” I whisper his name like a prayer.
Said man kicks the grass with the toe of his boot and curses under his breath. “I love you. Alright? There. I fuckin’ said it. Now go be with your ugly chickens.” About facing, Coffin marches into the tree line, and I look to the guys for some indication of what the hell just happened and what I’m supposed to do about it.
He didn’t have to say that to me. Not if he didn’t want to.
“He’s been wantin’ to say it for a week now,” Rot explains, somehow knowing what I’m thinking.
“Is that why he’s angry?”
Necro takes the chicken from my arms and nods for me to go after him.
Fine.
Sighing, I march after the bastard and find him deep in the woods. If not for his loud cursing and stomping, I wouldn’t know where to look, but I track the sounds, and when he stops, I do, too, a few feet away.
“I love you, too!” I declare obnoxiously loud, so he can’t pretend he doesn’t hear me. The birds, the bugs, and the deer in these woods all heard it.
Shoulders hunched forward, he kicks the trunk of a fallen tree. “You shouldn’t.”
“But I do.” He doesn’t get to decide who I love and who I don’t. Once upon a time, I was an idiot who thought Iwas in love with Ted. Years of brainwashing does that to you. Now, much older, wiser, I get to choose. For me. For the little girl who lived in a closet with a mother who hated her. For the little girl who was forced to marry a predator.
“Don’t say that. Just don’t,” he scolds.
“Don’t say that I love you? Why?”
“I don’t like it.”
“Yes, you do.” I call him on his shit. Lies erode relationships. They break trust. I don’t want that for us. Not now. Not ever.
“No. I don’t.” Rounding on me, Coffin stalks over. He bends and rips his knife from his boot and wraps a giant hand around my throat. Shoving me backward, my spine collides with a rough, oversized tree, and he snarls in my face, gliding the tip of his blade up the inside of my dress to the scar he made.
“I. Don’t. Like. This,” he grates, sounding inhuman.
“What? Don’t like what? Me?” I challenge, keeping my hands down at my sides as air saws in and out of my lungs. “Your cock getting hard when you touch me with your knife? What? If you think you scare me? You don’t.”
A low rumble rattles in his throat. “I should.”
“Why? You love me, and I love you. You’re fucked up. But so am I.”
“You’re perfect.” He bites my cheek, and I whine in pain, skin throbbing, but my pussy has other ideas when she clenches, knowing it’s Coffin loving us in the only way he knows how.
Softly trailing my fingertips down his bare sides, I whisper, “And you’re crazy, but I love you anyway.”
Shivering at my touch, Coffin presses his forehead to mine. “I want to fuck you with my crucifix. I made one for you.” His hot breath washes across my face as his dark desires seep into my soul.
“You want to… What?” I whisper, afraid I didn’t hear him right.
“I made you a crucifix.”
“That you want to fuck me with?” Drunk on him and the thought of us playing with something he made just for me, I wrap a leg around his hip and dig my heel into his ass.
“Yes,” Coffin hisses inches from my lips as he grinds his trapped erection against my belly. “It’s shaved down. It’s safe. I made sure of it. But I want to. I want to bleed you and fuck you. And watch you scream. And I want… your trophy. I want to carry it for always. Now, what do you think? Now, do you love me? Now, do you want me?”
“Yes.” I tremble, desperately wanting that for us. For him.
