Page 23 of Sinister Legacy
The sweetest fucking sound in the world.
I don’t breathe a word as I press the knife to her throat and sink my teeth into her neck at the same time I ram my cock in her cunt.
Ah, fuck! It feels so good to hurt her.
Her sweet screams beneath my palm and her panting breaths through her nostrils create a twisted symphony of depravity. I should let her know it’s me, it’s cruel not to, but the way her pussy strangles my dick speaks the truth of her own perversion.
Scented with the autumn rain, my cold, wet clothes soak through her tank top as I fuck her into the mattress. I fuck her so hard, the bed creaks loudly.
Then, when she’s sobbing so hard that her chest racks, I growl, “Did you really think you could ghost me? That the cops could keep you safe up here in your little tower?” Sliding my hand from her mouth, I curl my fingers around her little throat, squeezing hard until she’s wheezing.
Her pussy pulses around my dick, and she spreads her thighs wider, pushing back against me, forgetting herself. She wants to play the rape game, but with the knife pressed to her skin, there’s nothing she can do but play by my rules.
Another rumble of thunder followed by a lightning strike lights up her room. My elongated shadow looks grotesque on the wall, like a fanged devil, as it mounts hers.
“Your pussy is strangling my dick, little slut.” I bite down on her ear, pumping my hips viciously against her ass cheeks. “Want to use your safe word yet? Want me to stop fucking you like you’re worthless?”
Her head eagerly shakes no but then she remembers the game and opens her mouth to scream.
I only just manage to muffle it in time.
She’s screaming herself hoarse while I chuckle in her ear. “The more you scream, the harder I’ll fuck you.”
Keira screams louder.
She screams so loudly, I remove the knife from her throat and slide it back between her ass cheeks. It has the desired effect; her screams fall silent as she stiffens.
“I’ll cut you if you make a noise,” I warn, straightening up onto my knees. Her puckered hole is revealed when another lightning flash lights up her bed.
While fucking her cunt with slow, deep strokes, I cover the knife’s handle in her own juices before pressing it into her ass. “Relax, baby.”
“King?” she whimpers shakily, her voice tinged with fear and lust.
I close my hand around the blade, feeling it dig into my fingers. “I wish you could see how fucking perfect you are, with your cunt stuffed with my dick and my knife in your ass.”
The blade is sharp, and when I slide the handle back out, I cut myself. The burning sting and the sensation of warm blood dripping between my fingers are so fucking erotic. I hiss a breath through my gritted teeth as she releases a frightened sob, clutching the sheet.
I fuck her with the handle in time with my thrusts, high on the pain as I cut myself again. Keira comes, her cries muffled by the mattress.
“Yeah, such a good girl,” I praise, removing the handle and sliding my bloodied hand over her pale ass cheek before grabbing it hard.
The pleasure mounts and mounts until I think I’m going cross-eyed. This girl is going to be the death of me with her twisted desires.
I pull out and coat her ass in cum, releasing a tortured groan deep in my chest. By the time the last squirt of cum rains over her pale skin, I’m spent and ruined. I slide back out through her open window like a shadow in the night before she can come down from her high.
Four days pass. Four days of King startling me awake at all hours of the night to ravish me after sneaking past the cops outside my house. I’m sore between my legs and tired as hell, but it’s the perfect distraction. Especially now, seated in the church, staring at Jessica’s white coffin. The murdered student in question smiles at us all from the photograph on top. I don’t even know why I’m here. Not really. Jessica and I weren’t friends; we merely hung out in the same circles because of Liam. If I wasn’t dating the star quarterback, the cheerleaders wouldn’t so much as look in my direction. I would be a blip on their radar.
The church is cold, and my legs are mottled with goosebumps. I dressed for the occasion in a black skirt and blouse, forgoing my denim coat. Liam notices and shrugs out of his suit jacket, placing it on my shoulders. It’s warm and smells of him—amber and citrus. I pull it tight around me, staring blankly at the coffin while the priest reads a passage from the Bible.
Cassie cries softly on my other side. Even the boys—Miles, Chris, and Marcus—look pale with glassy eyes. There’s not an untouched soul in the room. Jessica was popular and had a charismatic personality.
She was also a bitch, but that doesn’t matter now that she’s dead.
Now she was suddenly everyone’s best friend. Students, even the ones who used to sneer in her direction behind her back or shrink into the shadows when she walked past, cry softly in the pews. No one has a bad word to say about the queen bee anymore.
And I’m a bitch for finding it all so fucking hypocritical.
Jessica wasn’t nice.
