None of this was easy.
And that Killian, the Angel Maker. I had no idea what he had planned, but I regretted letting him walk out of this house alive. He had Stella to himself during the day. Who knew what the bastard would try to do; I wouldn’t put anything past him. I would not trust him further than I could throw him…and since my body was sore from our little fight, I doubted I’d be able to toss him far right now.
I was a slave over the stove, and I was careful to add a little extra something to Stella’s plate. We had a small dining table in the space between the living room and the kitchen. We didn’t often use it, because we hardly had company for dinner, but tonight we did. Really, we should get Stella to move in here, so we could watch her.
One thing at a time.
I arranged the napkins, the silverware, the plates and the bowls. Even the drinks. Lincoln and I would sit around her, both of us watching her eat. I didn’t give her a great helping of the meatloaf, but I did make sure it was an adequate amount. One she would be able to eat without a problem. Water for us tonight. No alcohol. The doctor had warned us both against ever giving Stella any type of alcohol.
Lincoln and Stella arrived right when I assumed they would, and the moment they entered the house from the garage, I gave them both a wide smile. Mostly Stella. It was my everything will be alright smile, a smile I often gave to those unfortunate enough to find themselves in our basement. I’ve had a lot of practice.
“Just in time,” I said, grinning. Pulling out a chair, I gestured for Stella. “For you, my lady.” I made a mock bow, watching out of the corners of my eyes as she made her way to the seat I’d selected for her.
“Smells good,” she commented. “I’ve never had such fine service before.” Stella almost smiled, almost. Not quite. “And my plate is already full. My meat cut. You did all the hard work for me.”
Lincoln sat in the seat to her left, shooting me a dark look as I took the other one on her right. What the hell did he want me to do? How else was I supposed to make sure she took her medication?
I reached for her hand, holding it over the table. “Anything for you. I have been known to be gentlemanly, you know.”
She smirked at that. A soft, gentle smirk that made me sigh internally. No matter what she did, what she said, this woman would remain mine. That prick that was her boss could go screw himself. There was no way Stella would ever choose him over us.
Releasing her hand, I said, “Dig in.” I stuck my fork into a square piece of meat, watching as she did the same. I only allowed myself to take my first bite after she’d taken hers. This…might just be easier than I thought, but I wouldn’t let myself rest until her plate was empty.
Mashed potatoes, meatloaf, beans. Nothing too fancy to throw her off, but a good meal that smelled delicious.
“I went to the press conference today,” Stella spoke after swallowing a huge mouthful. “They have no idea who he is, but I think he was there, watching.” She took a tiny sip of water.
Lincoln glared at her. “You went by yourself? After what happened?” He was worried for her, which I thought was strangely adorable. He never was the kind of man to show true feelings for any of the ones we brought home.
Stella was so very different than the rest.
“I was with Killian,” Stella said.
His glare turned deadly, and I resisted my urge to kick him beneath the table because I kind of felt the need to glare, too. “Of course you were,” Lincoln said, his lips frowning. His normal expression, basically. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Stella stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“From everything you’ve said about him, it’s obvious he wants to get in your pants,” Lincoln scowled, recovering himself easily without the need to tell her truth—that he’d been here yesterday with the intent to kill me. “He’ll do whatever he can to get you on his side.”
“You know I don’t like him like that,” she said, glancing at me. “He’s my boss. Nothing more. You two are all I need.”
Her words, even if they were sugar-coated, were all I needed to hear. “She’s with us, Lincoln,” I told him, wordlessly shooting him a glare that told him to back down. If he kept up with the posturing, she’d start to think something was wrong.
She nodded along, and the table fell into silence as we ate.
Her mind was made up about Killian, thankfully, but what would happen when she found out who he truly was? That the Killian she knew was a mask he wore for the world’s benefit? Would she give into him, the Angel Maker, or would she hold strong and be ours forever? I hated the doubt that popped into my mind, hated how confusing it all was.
It would’ve been better for all of us if we would’ve just killed him. So much easier. Murder was not always the solution, but for problems like these, it was often the best one. The simplest, not to mention the most fun.
I pointed to her plate with my fork. “You better eat up. You have a long night ahead of you.”
Stella met my stare. “So I’m staying the night at your place now?” She actually smiled. A real smile, one that made my heart do a dance in my chest. I would never get used to her real smiles. Never. “Are we going to trade off every night?”
“You’ve stayed the night before,” I said.
“Yes, but I was tied to your bed those nights. And I never had dinner beforehand.”
I gave her a dimpled grin. “Oh, you’ll be tied to my bed soon enough, love. But for now, eat up.” I would make her eat her entire plate if I had to use every trick in the goddamn book.
She shrugged and ate, but it took her a while. Lincoln and I had mountains of food on our plates, and we were finished before she was. Stella needed to eat more, anyways. She was…way too skinny. Her body needed more meat on it. A thickness to her bones she would only gain by increasing her diet. With the pathetic amount of food in her refrigerator, I knew she starved herself.
That, or maybe she simply forgot to eat.
It wasn’t too long before her plate was empty, and as I started to clean up the dishes, Lincoln let out a growl and threw her over his shoulder, his hand gripping her ass to keep her from totally falling over. “We’ll be upstairs, when you’re done.” He gave her ass a smack before heading up the stairs.
I didn’t mind doing the cleanup. There was something calming about doing the dishes, something fulfilling about getting everything put back in its place and the counters clean once again. I was never the kind of chef who would leave a mess; picking up after myself was something I’d learned to do years ago, whether it was food, spills, or blood. Everything was better when you cleaned it up right away.
When I headed up the stairs, I found Lincoln and Stella in my room. Lincoln had her facedown on the bed, her ass in the air, already balls-deep inside her. She wasn’t tied down, but I would rectify that soon enough. This time, both her wrists and her ankles would get restrained. I’d been taking it easy on her, but now, with everything going on, I wouldn’t take it easy anymore.
She’d meet my real animal soon enough.
I stepped over the mounds of clothes scattered on my floor, careful to not make a peep as I watched, instantly feeling my dick harden. It was an immediate thing; fast and undeniable. Lincoln and Stella were too lost in each other to even glance in my direction, and I couldn’t blame them.
They were…astoundingly beautiful together. Her tiny, fragile body below his large, muscular one. The breathy sounds that escaped her with each thrust of Lincoln’s thick, monstrous cock, how he grunted over and over again, as if he couldn’t get enough. Yin and Yang, beastly and gorgeous. They were each perfect in their own way. My perfect little monsters.
I slowly slipped out of my clothes, moving beside the bed, eyes on Stella’s backside, watching as Lincoln pumped in and out of her, his dick wet with her juices. My own cock stood erect and hard, a familiar ache in its tip. I wanted to be inside of her, too. I didn’t want to wait, which was very much unlike me. I always enjoyed watching. I
always came when I watched Lincoln have his way.
Tonight…tonight I wanted something different. Something more.
Crawling onto the bed, I moved before Stella’s head. As Lincoln’s thrusting slowed, I lifted her head, tilting her chin up. She didn’t so much look up at me as much as she gazed at the dick before her face. Mine. I’d never made her take me inside her mouth, but tonight we’d change that.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed head—there were just usually other things I enjoyed more. But for some reason, I needed her lips around my dick, and I needed them right now. I couldn’t wait for Lincoln to be done with her.
Stella knew what I needed. She opened her mouth, and I slipped my cock inside, letting out a groan when I felt her swirl her tongue around my tip. With me filling her mouth and Lincoln filling her pussy, she was as full as any woman could be. I knew I’d get no complaints, though. She liked being used just as much as Lincoln and I enjoyed doing the using. We were all fucked-up individuals in one way or another.
Lincoln’s hands tightened on her sides, and he started back up, his thrusts deep. I had no idea how Stella’s body could even fit his thick member inside, but it did, just like her mouth eagerly sucked on my dick. I fisted her hair, rocking my hips. I was on my knees, as was Lincoln, nothing between us save for Stella.
This was how it should always be. This was how I always wanted it. Lincoln, Stella, and me. Granted, I didn’t know our third would be Stella until recently, but God, if it wasn’t fate. This was too right to deny. There was no way that Killian would get in between us. No possible way.
As I felt the pressure building inside of me, I glanced up. Lincoln’s dark eyes were on me, his mouth hanging slightly open, hard, ragged grunts coming from his chest as he pounded into Stella. He always got that far-off look when he was fucking, always looked like he was outside of his body, a slave to his passions and his cock. The expression never detracted from his handsomeness.
Lincoln opened his mouth further, saying, “Doesn’t she feel amazing?”
Who the hell would not agree with that? No one who’d felt her, no one who’d ever been inside of her, one hole or the other. Her mouth fit perfectly around my dick. I managed to nod, refusing to speak. I could feel it coming.
Hard and swift and strong, the orgasm swept through me in a rush, a stormy tide of pleasure that sent my hips thrusting against her mouth, cum shooting down her throat. I wanted to cover every inch of her body in my cum, mark every part of her as mine. I sluggishly withdrew, falling back onto my pillow.
Lincoln watched me come, my body tense and my shoulders tighten. It must’ve helped his own release, for the next moment, he had to squeeze his eyes shut as he shuddered, his thrusts erratic. Sweat dotted his chest, and it was a long moment before he pulled out of her.
I wasted no time. I was still a horny beast, so I helped her roll over before I tied her up. Lincoln must’ve known my intentions, for while I tied up her left side, wrist and ankle, he did the right. We were in synch, in unison. Lincoln and I were almost too alike, sometimes. Some days I wondered whether we were separated at birth—but then instances like this would’ve been a bit too weird for me.
Positioning myself between her spread legs, I met her eyes. Her blue eye, her brown eye. A beautiful pair, a set unlike any other. Lincoln might still have hated her stare, but I loved it. I could gaze into her eyes all night—and maybe I would. There was plenty of time, and she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Are you ready for me now?” I asked in a bare whisper, inching the tip of my dick to her cunt. I could see bits of white starting to seep out, Lincoln’s seed, and I knew she’d feel so fucking wet when I entered her. “Did Lincoln warm you up for me?”
Stella nodded once, the hunger in her mismatched stare palpable. It was my challenge to fill that hunger, my turn to fuck her into oblivion until her voice grew scratchy and her wrists and ankles sore. And then, after I’d had my fill, Lincoln would take her again, and I would watch. This was how it would always go for us.
This was heaven on earth, us three together—or maybe it was hell.
A perfect kind of hell.
Chapter Twenty-One – Killian
The stage was set. The only thing left for me to do was get the actress to play her part in the production. I liked to think of myself a decent planner, but I was also a good spontaneous actor myself. I’d learned how to best navigate the waters of life early on and hide what I really was, both the things I felt and the things I did not feel that I knew I should.
I got into work early the next day, and as I made coffee and sat at my desk, I found myself once again going to Stella’s blog. She hadn’t posted in a few days, and I couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong. Her posts used to be like clockwork. I couldn’t help but wonder if her run-in with the Angel Maker, with me, made her lose her steam. Or her inspiration.
Or, maybe, she was so full of inspiration she didn’t know what to write anymore. I wasn’t sure I liked that option, but it was better than the third alternative I came up with.
Edward and Lincoln. Two men, killers in their own way, maybe, but they were nothing like me. Surely Stella knew it—and if she didn’t, she’d know soon enough. Tonight was the night I made my move.
Tonight, she would know the truth.
I closed my eyes, remembering Julie. Everything, for so long, had all been for Stella.
The laugh that came from Julie’s throat was not one of merriment. It was one of disdain. It told me all I needed to know; I was making the right choice. I knew I wasn’t meant to be with her, not after hiring Stella, not after watching her these last few months. Julie had been my rock to the real world, but with Stella…I didn’t need a rock.
All I needed was Stella.
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Julie narrowed her eyes. I stood near the front door, hands in my pocket. “This is about that other girl, isn’t it? The one you always talk about.” She shook her head. “I knew something was going on between you. I knew it.” She laughed again, and it was like nails on a chalkboard. “Fuck off, then. Go to her. What the fuck do I care?”
Julie was…not exactly the nicest woman around when she was mad, apparently.
I blinked, having expected a totally different reaction. I mean, I knew I wasn’t the best boyfriend, but she’d told me that I’d given her the best orgasms she’d ever had in her whole life. That had to mean something, right? Maybe I wasn’t getting it. Maybe, as much as I played around at being normal, there were things I still couldn’t understand.
When I didn’t move, Julie frowned. “What the fuck did you want me to do? Get on my hands and knees and beg you to stay?” She held her hands out in front of her, mocking me. Her hands were clasped together, as if she was praying, jeeringly begging God to make me change my mind.
It took me far too long to realize that if she was mocking me right now, she was also mocking Stella.
That, that I would not allow.
I only gave her a smile and said, “Have a good life, Julie.” I headed toward the door, a plan already formulating in my mind. I ignored her fuck you jibe as I went, knowing it was best not to make a scene outside her apartment. It was already bad enough the neighbors had probably heard us yelling.
I couldn’t let Julie live after all that. My choice was already made for me, as far as I was concerned. The only thing left to plan out was how. It was only after going into the office and reading Stella’s latest blog post about serial killers and their love for being in the face of their victims when they killed them that I came up with an idea.
Stella was my inspiration for it all.
Julie was not my first kill, but she was the first one I’d killed in Stella’s name. She wasn’t an angel, exactly, but she was the idea behind them. Holding her hands together, mocking me as if the last thing she would do was beg me to stay—it was an image that danced in my dreams for months after I’d returned to her house while she was at work. Gloves to avoid fingerprints. Made
sure there were no cameras in the halls or on the property that would see me. Her neighbors were at work too; I’d seen them leave, waited to make sure they weren’t coming back.
The suicide note I’d forced Julie to write while holding her at gunpoint with her own gun was particularly satisfying, and the way her brains splattered the wall behind her was a macabre painting I’d never forget.
I was certain her family still suspected my involvement, but there was never any evidence for the police to go after me. Everything was pretty cut and dry. Julie’s note, the angle of the gunshot—I’d thought of it all. She wasn’t my first kill, after all. I had done it before.
Never in…quite such a ritualistic manner as the last three, but. Well, Stella had changed me, what could I say?
The one in the basement was my test, just as Stella had assumed in her article. The dummy, so to speak. The second one was to get her attention. I’d known the Hangs were going on vacation because they were friends with the Tribune’s owners, and I knew their vacation got cut short because Mrs. Hang’s mother had fallen and broken her hip.
I knew a lot of things I probably shouldn’t.
I’d wanted to tell Stella the truth that night, after our date. But I hadn’t expected her to fly out of the restaurant without so much as a goodbye. Plus, with the whole Edward and Lincoln thing, I was kind of ticked. So I hurried up my plan, kidnapped her and dumped her with Sandy, who I’d been saving for a special occasion.
Sandy was supposed to have been ours.
Our first kill. Together.
Well, clearly that hadn’t worked out at all like I’d wanted it to. But I had another body ready to go, thanks to dear old John Woods, Callie’s younger brother. I couldn’t keep him in my freezer forever now, could I? Eventually his family would come looking, just as they’d come looking for Callie.
Oh, yes. Something needed to be done about that one, too. So many bodies to play with, so little time.
I exited out of her blog, tapping my fingers on the desk. I had to think up a way to get her to come with me. Stella still only saw me as her boss, as Killian, the guy who’d drunk a bit too much and said and done some things he shouldn’t have. I needed her to see the full picture, to see me as who I really was, not the man I masqueraded as in public.
Cold Dark Souls : A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (Cruel Black Hearts Book 2) Page 14
