Page 9 of Be My Sinner

He cradles a fragment of my tarnished heart and my fragile sanity in his sturdy, patient, and unwaveringly loyal hands. I clutch a piece of his disillusioned and weary heart in my blood-soaked grasp.We are the embodiment of tragedy, souls entwined through suffering and anguish.

With one last look up at the open window, I break from Sammy’s grip and take a step forward, away from my need for bloodshed for the moment. If I’m still craving blood in a few hours, I’ll take it out on his skin as he will on mine.

Chapter 6

The Forsaker

Zeke

Fuck,thisassholeisquoting ‘Matthew’ now. My eyes stare hard at the messy red words painted on my wall, the very wall directly facing my bed. This sick fuck knew that it would be the first thing I saw once I opened my eyes and sat up. It nearly gave me a heart attack when I did.

How could I have slept through someone being in my room, mere feet from me? The fucker could have killed me in my sleep, and yet they didn’t. Instead, they played sick games with me, leaving bloody fingerprints along my sheets and smearing red shit on my walls.

Fuck, is it possible that’s blood?It can’t be, can it?

I lean closer, inhaling the words printed on my pristine white walls. The pungent odor of rust and iron instantly assaults my senses—blood. The fucker actually stood here and wrote all of that in blood while I slept not more than eight feet away.What. The. Fuck. This shit is insane.

“What the fuck was so urgent I had to rush in here, fucker? I had my cock down Elizabeth’s throat!” His displeased and disgusted voice reaches my ears at the same time his heavy boots storm across my hardwood floor.

I offer a dismissive eye roll in response to his irritated comments. He always has his cock down someone’s throat or up someone’s holes. Lately, it’s like he can’t go more than a few hours without his cock needing release. I can’t really complain when, a good percentage of the time, I benefit from his lack of control. Right now, though, I’m not fucking interested. I keep my eyes on the red words and wait for him to approach me.

“What the fuck is that?” His words escape his delectable mouth, tinged with anger and a hint of panic. The corner of my mouth twitches at the sound. I shouldn’t find any amusement or satisfaction in his distress, but I can’t resist.

“A warning, I believe, from the ‘Unholy Ghost’. It would seem I have displeased him and put myself on his radar.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Zeke, that’s a threat. False prophets, what does that mean? Is this psycho calling the Order out? Is he talking about the Founding Fathers?” Abe’s tattooed and ringed fingers trail through his thick, wavy hair in agitation, his booty call now completely forgotten.

My hands clench at my sides with the need to grasp onto his silky, thick locks and pull them myself. Bring him to his knees before me and hear his cries of pain and pleasure. I want to hurt him, see his blood run red, like the words on my wall. I bite down hard on my lip, trying to squash the need that is coursing through me. Destruction calls to me like a tempting little whore, willing to spread her legs for me as long as I do her bidding.

I turn away from the worded threat on my wall and meet his anxious amber eyes; lines are etched between his dark, thick eyebrows, and his lips are drawn tight. “Yeah, looks like the fucker is. I’m amused that he thinks we are raving wolves. Not a bad description.”

I observe the shadow of worry passing over his chiseled face. A face I’ve committed so deeply to memory that I could effortlessly conjure every detail, crafting a flawless portrait of him. He’s the sole individual I hold dear in this desolate world—the only one left to stand by my side. The unbidden mental image of stormy blue eyes, filled with fear, attempts to intrude into my thoughts, and I promptly slam the door shut on that unwelcome vision.

Abe is usually the reckless one, and I, the worrier of the pair. It seems today, our roles are reversed. The urge to shove my tongue down his throat and hear his moans almost takes control of me. I look away and back at the words of God across my wall. Words that a murderer has left me there in a veiled threat. A snort leaves my lips;wolves,indeed.

“We need to clean this shit up before someone from the guard or the servants catches wind of it.” My voice comes out steady even though anger and slick fear still coat my veins.He was here…so close.While I slept unaware, like some useless turd.

What am I going to use to get the blood off? Does blood even come off of plasterboard? This fucker has completely ruined my day with this shit.He could have killed you in your sleep, asswipe. Be grateful you just have to wipe some bloody words off a wall,my mind admonishes me with anger. Why didn’t he kill me? Why taunt me?

“What the hell are you talking about? Clean this shit up? No, bitch, we have to tell your dad. This psychopath somehow got in here with all the security crawling around this place, and could have killed you.” Abe moves forward and trails his forefinger down the dried syllables. A shudder runs down his spine at the action.Does he see my death before his eyes?

“No. We can’t fucking do that. The minute my father or yours knows what happened here, we will be under lock and key, Abe. Prisoners. You know that as well as I do. They will fucking separate us to keep their precious heirs, and the next generation, alive.” I grab onto the front of his gray shirt, pulling him to me. His eyes meet mine, staring deep into my dark soul, and his lips part with a sweet-scented breath.He’s mine, and I will not be parted from him.

“No one is going to find out, and we will not be separated.Ever.You fucking hear me, Abe? You belong to me. I will not allow anyone to take you away from me. Not my fucking father, not this psychotic order, or some madman pretending to be a ghost.”

My lips crash down on his with violence. Our teeth clash together as my tongue invades the warmth of his mouth.I held out for a good couple of minutes.Now, my restraint is at an end, and I mean to have a taste of what is mine.

His tongue meets mine stroke for stroke. One of his hands finds its way to the back of my neck, his long fingers wrapping around and squeezing the column. The other trails down the front of my body and grasps onto my hardening cock, over the thin material of the shorts I threw on after I saw the bloody words. My cock twitches behind the fabric, desperate to have his fingers wrap around its thick length, the tip leaking precum that I wish was already coating his thick lips.

I need him with a desperation that I can’t contain. The dread and the stark realization that I might have perished in my sleep, or awakened at the mercy of a killer, consume me. I break free from his embrace, gasping for breath, and lock eyes with his gaze, steeped in lust.

Normally, we exercise caution; it’s perilous to openly embrace our desires here. Too many of our fathers’ loyal minions keep a watchful eye on the house we both inhabit. They would be infuriated if they discovered our secret, that we find pleasure and solitude in each other’s arms.

In their eyes, we can never transcend the bounds of brotherhood, or mere best friends. They remain oblivious to the truth—we are soul mates, our love pure and unbreakable. The two of us…once we were three…but now, we are all that is left. Pain attempts to stir within me, resurfacing memories I wish to bury—betrayals I have committed.

I step away from him and head to my door, firmly shutting it, engaging the lock, and, just to be safe, sliding the chair I keep nearby under the handle. I wouldn’t underestimate my father or one of his guards attempting to breach my privacy. I can’t afford the risk of them catching us off guard, but I need Abe at this moment as much as I need air.

He watches me with a lust-filled expression. His tongue peeks out and licks his top lip, and his hands reach behind his neck, pulling his gray T-shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor, before slipping his hands to the band of the black sweatpants he’s wearing and yanking them down. He slides his feet out of his black unlaced boots and steps out of the pants. Sunlight streams through the window, glinting off of the small silver barbells in each of his nipples, taunting and teasing me to pull on them with my teeth.

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