Page 8 of Be My Sinner

I run my finger down the gray, fine thread count sheets and the plush mattress, leaving a trail of red behind in my wake next to his sleeping form. I watch with envy as his body inhales and exhales in exhausted sleep.Sleepis a luxury I no longer have the time for, with so many men to kill.

What does he dream of, I wonder?Does he see his precious, privileged life before him, free from the worry of someone taking all he loves away? He lies so peacefully, unaware that a predator is mere inches from him, ready and willing to take his life.

Not yet, though. This spider hasn’t played with her food yet.

Black Death.Unholy Ghost. The names they whisper now with fear. My body count is frightening to the Brotherhood. Little do they know that I am a black widow. Destroying evil men everywhere I go.

They have never suspected a woman. How could they? We’re perceived as too frail, too compliant to orchestrate something like this. The females of the Order are deemed too easily manipulated. Dominated. Subjugated on our knees or with our legs spread. We are vessels only needed to be used for pleasure by our male counterparts, and to breed the next generation of the Brotherhood.

How could a vessel fight back?Where would she get the skills or the drive for something like that?

It’s ironic how, when you’ve lost everything, you transform. You die and are reborn as the very embodiment of what the world that shattered you fears. They took too much from me. They took everything I had, everything that was once good inside me, and left only darkness in its wake.

I have become their boogeyman, a harbinger of death, patiently waiting to claim their souls and drag them down to hell with me. When my reckoning is complete, he, too, will face the price of his betrayal, but the time for that vengeance has not yet arrived. I’ve only just begun.

I dip my brush into the cooled blood, listening to the soothing rhythmic sounds of his breathing as I paint his walls with the words of a God I no longer believe in. One that the Brotherhood has corrupted all the good and divinity out of.

With one last look at one of the devils who betrayed my family, I restrain my need to feel his beating heart held in my hands.Soon. I will have my vengeance soon on this one and the other. They will pay with everything they have, including their last breaths.

He will cry for me. He will scream for me and beg for mercy from me. In the end, it shall serve only to serenade me into sweet slumber. The voices of angels will celebrate, for I will have cleansed this world of one more semblance of evil.

“Sleep tight, sweet prince. I’ll be seeing you soon,” I whisper, blowing him a kiss.

I move silently through the room with one last look back as I enter his ensuite bathroom and climb out the open bathroom window. Their arrogance is helpful to my cause. They think they are safe here.Untouchable. I’m here to prove to them they are not. They are prey in my web, and it’s time I start having some fun with my unwilling oblivious food.

The minute I’m out of the window and scaling the three-story brick facade back to the ground, I can breathe again. My heartbeat is a drummed tempo in my chest, and my blood rushes wildly through my veins, too loud in my ears. The hunt. The thrill. The euphoria of the chase making my body sing.

“What took so long, Nightstar? I was starting to worry.” His voice breaks through the night air, the sensation of velvet across my heated skin. Raspy and quiet but filled with concern, reproach, and demand. A shiver slides down my spine at the sound, filling me with need—a need to be comforted in his strong arms.

It should bring with it rage. I have now killed men for less. No male will ever control my freedom.He is the exception.He will always be the exception.

His devotion is no longer to a God he cannot see, or an order that left him riddled with sins and made him believe he was beneath them.No, his devotion and prayers are set at my altar now. I am both his greatest sin, weakness, and eternal salvation; he is mine.

“It took as long as it needed to, old man. It’s done now; soon enough, he will wake to the horror and panic I have left behind. I can’t wait to see his reaction when he realizes how close he came to dying.”

Annoyance flashes across his face at the detested nickname. “You could be wrong, Dinah. He could alert them.” His fingers trail along the collar of my black, skin-tight shirt, making goosebumps rise across the surface of my skin. Shivers threaten to race down my frame at the heat coming off of his delectable body. Adrenaline is still riding me, and I would like nothing more than to ride his face into sweet oblivion now that my task is complete.

Relief comes to me in only two ways now. Only two methods soothe the demons that awaken the venom within me.Fuck or kill. Since I didn’t get to kill that fucker sleeping under lock and key, I need to fuck. I need to ride Sammy’s face, cock, or better yet, both, until I come undone and shatter under his ministrations.

“He won’t. The two of them still believe they are invincible. It would mean clipping their own wings. They won’t willingly do that.” I sigh and close my eyes as his warm skin meets mine, his scent enveloping me in the night air.

“Fuck, I hope you’re right, Nightstar. Let’s get back before we’re spotted. You still owe me a round with those pretty, pouty lips stretched around my cock. I have no intention of being denied or gentle with you tonight.”

I smirk at his obvious need as he presses his hard body firmly against mine. He can try to deny it to himself all he wants, but he gets off on my sins just as much as I do. He enjoys watching me seek my revenge, and benefits from the fallout of my rage. He turns me around with a firm grip on my shoulder until I face him, and he can read my expression.

One of us will be on our knees before the sun rises in a few short hours. Maybe it will be me, but I have no doubt that either way, Sammy will be praying at my altar and worshiping all my holes. The mere thought has wetness leaving my core, making me rub my thighs together, seeking friction.

“Are you wet already, baby? Is your pretty cunt already looking forward to being used like the depraved slut you are?” His hand strikes out and wraps around the thin column of my neck, and his fingers tighten as his dark blue eyes stare into mine, illuminated by the gloomy silver glow of the moonlight. They rival the deep night sky all around us, and just like that sky, they have seen so much suffering and pain.

What does he see in their depths? My sins on display? My depravity because I enjoy the bloodshed? The need and willingness to be used by only him?

To be brought to my knees, my body used in any way he sees fit while also taking the pleasure he provides. He names me his slut and whore. If those terms had ever left another man’s lips directed at me, I would cut out that man’s tongue. Sammy, however, can call me those with honor.

He understands the depths of our shared experiences and all we’ve endured together. The hell that we have both survived at the hands of the Order. From his sinful lips, those words are a decadence. I will always be his whore willingly, and he will always be my blade and my shadow.

We are two shattered and scarred souls, who discovered each other in the unlikeliest of situations—hell. Fate delivered us into this inferno, yet somehow, against all odds, we found our way to one another.

Allies. Weary souls. Broken.

---