Page 23 of A Harmony of Procellarum

“Yes, I know,” I admit with a snarl. “What of it? You have the most important person in his life here.”

“Two most important people,” she corrects me with a smirk. I don’t rise to her taunting because I know there’s more to why she’s bringing up Squall. When I don’t bite, she rolls her eyes, reminding me of the girl I was once close to. “I let him in here to see her—”

Before she can continue, I turn on my heel and head for my prison cell. The one I have to share with the woman who has a claim on my man.

“Take it easy on her, Torrent,” Shereen calls to my retreating back. “He sure as hell didn’t.”

“Don’t react,” I tell myself under my breath. “Do not fucking react.”

I hear the hurried footsteps of the guards behind me, struggling to keep up as I stride down the narrow corridor to the room. I swear when I take a deep breath, I can smell the notes of cinnamon and clove. He was here. I almost want to turn around and go right back outside to see if he’s still sitting in his car, and if he is, I will rip his fucking heart out of his chest. I am done playing this game with him.

Tiny will not be leaving this fucking place alive, and I wanted him to get the fuck over her. But once again, Luciphia found a way to put a wrench into my fucking plans.

“Unlock it,” I snap as the guards hurry forward. The key slips in the lock and theclicksounds so loud in the quiet space around me. I shove inside and quickly shut it at my back, finding myself plunged into darkness.

The sole window in the room is offering no light from outside, so I head to where I know a table lamp sits and run my fingers along the cool ceramic base until I find the switch. The golden light sends a wave of illumination, revealing her luscious frame curled up on the bed. She’s breathing heavily while in deep sleep, her back moving with the long inhale.

My nostrils flare as I breathe in the scents around me, then my teeth clash together as I piece together just what happened in here mere hours ago. I can smell the scent of Squall’s soap, her vanilla body spray, and then their combined scent of release. It makes me vibrate with anger, but it also has me hardening with its potency. How can I ignore the scent of my first lover, the man who gave me light when I was drowning in darkness? Does it matter that it’s completely saturated all over her body? Not right now.

Once again, my nostrils flare as my eyes slowly skim over her form, breathing in vanilla, cloves, and sex. Then they stop on the baby blue pair of boy-cut underwear she’s wearing, exposed by the t-shirt raised over her hips. My cock jerks painfully, craving the warmth only a pussy can give, and when I skim over the space between her spread legs, I find her wet through the material.

She’s seeping with his release and instead of being disgusted, I want nothing more than to taste it.

I let my trench coat drop to the floor, adding my shirt—still covered in blood—with it as I crawl onto the bed, not caring if I stir her. She doesn’t move as her breathing remains even, and I grin, knowing Squall tired her out. I’m no longer raging with anger. It’s manifested into something vile and debased, and I can’t bring myself to care. She’ll be dead soon, anyway.

I hook a finger into the side of her panties, right along the spot saturated with cum. I can fucking smell it and it wipes any remnants of logic. I can’t help myself. I want to taste him inside of her.

Pulling the panties aside, I take a deep inhale as I stare at her glistening folds, the pink lips looking like a fucking dewy tulip. My finger drags along her pussy, dipping a little into the pooling cum dripping from her core, then to her clit. I stroke around it in lazy circles, using their combined release to coat it. She stirs a little, mumbling something in her sleep, but then she’s back to blissful oblivion as I lean forward and lick the exposed bits of her pussy. My tongue dips inside her core, scooping out whatever I can, then the flavor I know so well explodes in my mouth. It’s different, but familiar. I would even venture to say it’s better mixed with her essence.

I continue to eat her as my hand slips into my pants, stroking my cock. I’m so close, knowing I won’t last long at all. My balls tighten as I suck the mixture of releases into my mouth, paying special attention to her hard and pulsing nub. She’s close too, and still asleep… I think. I don’t even care.

Just as my cum spurts into my hand, she begins to pulse around my tongue, calling out for Squall in her sleep. The fog of desire clears and hearing his name from her mouth brings back the anger. With my cum still in my hand, I pull it out and look down at it, knowing what I’m about to do is all kinds of wrong. With the absence of a moral compass, nothing governs my lack of boundaries, so I know I’ll sleep well regardless of what I do.

I scoop the cum out of my hand and replace what I ate out of her pussy. She’ll never know the difference. Cum is cum to a whore.

Once I’m done, I cover her back up with her soaked panties and head into the bathroom. I need to scrub the scent of her off my face and the taste out of my mouth. Hopefully that helps me to forget whatever it was that just happened.

I’d be worried about procreation if killing her was still up in the air, and if it was indeed up in the air, this would be the moment I solidified the plan.

Chapter eight

Torrent

Loving Beginnings Orphanage - 1990

Istepoutofthe confession chamber, beside the one Shereen and I lit the Bible on fire in, and smile for my brother and his weird band of friends. “That went well.”

“Victor,” Raiden growls as he steps forward. “What are you doing?”

“If I thought for one second you could handle it, I’d tell you. But the truth is,big brother, you can’t. If I leave everything up to you, you will tell us to endure the abuse, to eat the gruel, and to be good Christian boys until we’re eighteen and free. Sure, that’s fine for you three, because I’m the one who killed their beloved priest and at the center of their hatred.”

“Are you saying you’re the only one who’s been abused?” Haynes asks, his voice sounding low and dangerous. The voice I can associate with a murderer. He and I have at least that in common.

“I killed your abuser for you. If I hadn’t, you’d probably be in that basement right now, fucking Shereen while the asshole jerked his dick.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, the air around us changes. My brother and Sval turn to look at Haynes, horror etched into their features, but he’s too busy grinding his jaw and staring at me with murderous intent.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Victor,” he finally says, his voice like concrete, hard and unyielding. “You’re on your own. I have been eaten up with guilt for what happened to you in that basement as well, but no more. I’m not helping you kill anyone and I won’t hide the truth from the cops this time when they come because another has been killed. Father Robert deserved what came to him, but what these nuns are doing is nothing like that.” He turns on his heel and strides out of the church, tearing the rift between us wider with every step, creating a chasm by the time he’s out of the door.

“Victor, he’s right. What you are becoming is dangerous. You can’t kill everyone who treats you wrong,” Raiden tries to reason, but all he’s doing is showing me I truly have lost my brother as an ally. Then he confirms it when he turns away from me too and chases after Haynes. Poor, burned and defiled, Haynes.

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