Page 145 of Anathema Codex

“Oh,fuck,” I moan loudly as I continue to fuck him.I should have taken control from the beginning. No one fucks better than I do.

And then it finally happens.

The little shit starts fucking back.

Ichabod looks down at me briefly as he bounces on my cock. I grin up at him, then jerk my head toward his beloved Bea, and watch as he absolutely manhandles my cock with his hole.

Ichabod places a hand on my chest, his fingernails scratching the goods, but I let him have at it. If he needs to draw a little blood to get his mojo going, I can get behind that.

“Harder,” I grind out as I watch small beads of sweat roll down his skinny torso. He’s enjoying it, which means he’ll take direction better.

He moves his hand from my chest down to his dick and strokes himself, eliciting a quick chuckle from me. Ichabod’s got a thing for playing with his own dick, and I usually don’t care as long as I’m involved somehow.

“Yeah, you missed this didn’t you?” I ask, licking my lips. He grunts and groans as he goes back to riding my cock like a champ. He’s going to come soon, and he’s going to do it looking straight into the eyes of the bitch that ruined his life then forgot all about him.

This is so fucking sweet.

I hold Ichabod firmly by the hips as his body tightens. I raise my eyes to make sure he’s looking at her, and he’s doing his best.Like the good boy he’s been trained to be.

“Come on,” I grunt as he starts stroking himself faster. “I’m sure she loves seeing how much you still want me.”

He grunts, grinds his teeth together, and I move quickly to the side to keep from letting his cum land on me. Hell, I move so fast, that the skinny fucker teeters and falls of my dick.

“Goddammit!”I snarl in pain as I reach down and place a hand on myself. As I take deep, steady breaths, I try to remember that it’s not really his fault. Being with me is like fucking God himself, so thepièce de résistancewould be nothing less than immaculate.

“Sorry,” he breathes quietly. I shoot a dirty look at him as he pushes himself up to his hands, arms trembling like a whore in church, pain still apparent on his face.

I clear my throat, let go of my aching dick, and run a hand back through my sweat-slicked hair.

“What do you think, kid? Think she enjoyed the show?” I prod with a smirk.

Ichabod rolls his eyes as he climbs off the bed and walks out of the room, his head hanging low and shoulders slumped.

“Eh, he’ll be fun again one day. You on the other hand,” I say as I lean up and swipe Trixie’s slowly rotting head down with a hard yank, “just got the best last show of your life, baby.”

As I slide off the bed and get to my feet, I toss the bitch’s head back and forth between my hands. Ichabod probably won’t wanna help me get rid of this, but he should get to say one last goodbye.

He'll be able to chalk that up to me being the great guy that I am,I think with a grin as I follow his scent back to the living room.

TWELVE

Accept Hell

ICHABOD

I've barely walked into the living room when I hear Lakyn stalking after me. I know he didn't finish, and he's probably crafting some new plan to make me suffer for walking away from him, or coming first, or some other made-up excuse he'll invent to justify doing whatever new torment he thinks up.

Although I'm not sure anything could be worse than looking at Bea's head while he fucked me like an animal.

My skin feels raw, my ass hurts, and I'm grateful when I see the basket of unfolded clothes tucked beside the couch. I pull on the first shirt I find and finally have my hand on a pair of my pajama pants when Lakyn calls out, "Oh, Ichabod!"

That sing-song tone is a promise of destruction. He sounds exactly the same right before he slits someone's throat, or hits them, or plants a hatchet in their chest. It's falsely playful, because he doesn't play fair. His games are always rigged in his favor, and I don't have any energy left to fight him right now.

I just stand up, clutching the pants at my side as I turn to face him. He's still gloriously naked, holding Bea's head at his side like he never called her his friend — but maybe he didn't. Maybe he never saw Bea as anything more than a person who encouraged his darker appetites, and now that he has me... maybe he decided he didn't need her anymore.

"Come here. We're going to finish this together." Lakyn tilts his head toward his special room, and I feel sick as he walks away from me, because I know the things that happen in that room, and none of it is good for me.

Though, honestly, I'm not sure why the fear creeps up my spine, gripping like an icy hand to keep me frozen in place. If he kills me, at least I'll finally be free.

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