Page 22 of Monsters Like Us
My scars throb where she traced them, every nerve branded with the heat of her fingertips. The pain from Vale’s games still twitches through my muscles, but it’s nothing compared to the ache she left behind.
Katana Morgan snuck into my room. Shechoseto come to me. Shechoseto touch me.
And that means the little murderess is mine. Every fucking piece of her.
I cross to my drawer, sliding it open with a slow, deliberate hand. The loose thread from her sweatshirt lies coiled like a secret, the lock of her hair beside it. My fingers reverently brush them.
The moment her skin touched mine still burns through me, but this proof I keep hidden is what anchors me. I wind the thread around my finger, drawing it tight, imagining it binding her to me. Stitch by stitch. Scar by scar.
Every scar Vale burned into me, every shock that tried to tear me apart—I draw strength from the pain now. From her touch. From this thread.
I whisper her name into my empty room, the sound low and lethal. “Katana.”
One stitch tighter. One thread deeper.
Each piece I take, every secret she gives, each forbidden touch—whether stolen or offered—sews her into me.
There will be no undoing this seam.
By the time I’m finished, she won’t know where she ends and I begin.
Her scent still lingers in the air—cinnamon, warmth, and something soft that doesn’t belong in this place. My chest is branded with her touch, like she carved her fingerprints into my skin.
I pinch the thread between my fingers like a talisman. I imagine tying it around her wrist, leading her to me, keeping her where she belongs.
My body betrays me—hardening and straining in my sweatpants, my breath coming faster. I picture her lips parting, the tremor in her hands when she dared to touch my scars.
No one’s ever touched me without cruelty stitched into the contact. No one’s ever made mewantto touch them back. Not untilher.
The thought coils low in my gut. My hand itches to map her body, to feel her arch against me, to hear her voice break on my name. I want to taste her fear, her defiance, her surrender—all of it.
My hand slides lower, into the waistband of my sweats. I wrap my hand around my dick and squeeze, stroking slowly at first, then faster, harder. Need and rage coil together in me. My breath tears through the silence, my mind painting her in vivid detail—her mouth open, her voice catching, her body trembling against mine.
The thread digs into my palm as I fist it, the other hand pumping my cock harder. I want her under me, around me, choking on the inevitability of us. My little murderess, sewn to me by flesh and sin.
When I come, it’s violent, torn from me with a growl that rattles the walls. My whole body bows tight, then shudders, leaving me wrecked and panting, sweat dampening my skin.
I stare at the mess on my hand and stomach, proof of what she does to me. I don’t feel shame. I feel possession. Ownership.
I wipe my come with my sweatshirt, wincing as the pain reminds me of what Vale did to me. Then I slip the thread back into its place and lean back on the bed, my chest heaving.
The next time she touches me? I won’t just imagine it.
I’ll accept and claim it.
CHAPTER 19
Katana
I lie on my bed,staring at the ceiling. The room is a square of gray light as dusk bleeds into night.
My body still feels strange and raw. My fingers tingle at the memory of touching his smooth, muscular skin, then sliding over rough scars. Heat pools low in my belly, a rush of need that won’t quit.
My breath quickens as my imagination takes over. When my hand touched Micah’s abs, I felt him respond. The hiss of his breath curled in my ears.
I picture him beneath my touch—solid and hard—and my fingers move across my skin, pretending it’s his. I slip my hand under my sweatshirt, feeling the warmth of my stomach. Goosebumps pebble my flesh. Slowly, I slide a hand beneath the waistband of my sweatpants?—
Footsteps in the hallway snap me back to reality. I yank my hand away, my face burning. Marcy’s silhouette fills the small, rectangular window in the doorway. She studies me for a moment before entering.
