Payback Princess (Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer Book 2)

by C. M. Stunich

  “Or why Parrish brought you up just before we touched each other for the first time,” I add, and Chasm goes still.

  “What?”

  “Chasm really likes you. Maybe …”

  “He … he didn’t think we could be together. He was worried about Tess. When he basically told me no, I asked what was going to happen. He suggested …”

  “Parrish, you fucking idiot,” Chasm grinds out, and then he’s drawing me against him and kissing me yet again. This time, his movements are more forceful, like he’s committing us both to this unless I explicitly tell him no.

  We end up on the bed with me on top. I’m aware that my Tess-phone is on the tripod atop the dresser, its usual space when I’m at home. Even now, there could be eyes on us. But I can’t allow myself to think about that. This is what has to happen.

  But how it happens? And the things that I feel, those are all on us.

  As we kiss, I tangle my fingers in Chasm’s hair, experimenting with his lip piercings. I tug on them with my teeth, swirl my tongue around them, suck them into my mouth. He seems to like all of that, groaning and sliding his hands down my back. My thighs spread naturally, my pelvis cushioned against his. When I rock my hips, I can feel everything, the hardness beneath his academy-issued slacks that promises he’s enjoying this as much as I am.

  He fists his fingers in my shirt and carefully pulls it up, tearing it over my head and then chucking it onto the floor. The move very nearly breaks me as déjà vu slams into me like a train, but I ignore all of it. I ignore the possibility that Parrish could die, that I’m doing this for nothing, that the Slayer has zero plans to let any one of us live a normal life.

  I sit up and Chasm lets out a sharp breath.

  “If only we had more time,” he whispers, because we’re doing exactly what Tess warned us not to do. If she goes downstairs and sees that he isn’t on the couch, we’re in big trouble. I locked my door, but that won’t do much. She can unlock it easily, and she’ll just assume that I’ve got something to hide.

  Still … that text hangs heavy in both of our minds.

  Chasm runs his hands up my bare sides, trailing fire in his wake, and then closes the warmth of both palms over my breasts. He kneads them gently as I tuck my lower lip between my teeth to control the sounds I so desperately wish I could make.

  He teases my nipples with his thumbs next, stroking them until I’m squirming on his lap, and he’s admonishing me gently in Korean. Chasm abruptly rolls us over so that I’m on my back and he’s staring down at me. He kisses me yet again, trailing his lips down to the edge of my jaw.

  My right hand slides between us, finding his hardness through his pants and stroking my fingers across it. Chasm makes a sound that’s caught somewhere between a curse and a prayer, and then he gives my hair a little yank, just enough to draw my head back.

  “You feel so good pressed against me like this,” he whispers, moving his mouth down and pausing with his breath fanning against my nipple. “This is exactly what I was waiting for.”

  “This?” I ask just before he flicks his tongue out to taste me, and I writhe, thrusting my chest up against his mouth.

  “You. I was waiting for you.”

  I squeeze him with my hand and he grunts, retaliating by biting my nipple. I cry out, and he very quickly slides a warm hand over my mouth.

  “If you bring Tess down on us, I won’t see you until after you graduate,” he murmurs, kissing his way across my breast and then downward. His lips are hot, his tongue teasing electrical currents in my muscles. They clench of their own accord, so hard that I just know they’re going to be sore in the morning.

  “Chasm,” I warn as he takes his hand away from my mouth, drawing his fingers down my body until they curl around the waistband of my pants. He pauses there for a moment to look up at me.

  “What should we do about …” he starts, and I realize that he’s referring to my period. Chasm slides my pants down my hips anyway, without bothering to wait for an answer. I catch my breath as he sits up and stares down at me, completely and utterly naked under his gaze in more ways than one.

  “Um.” I prop myself up on my elbows, green and black hair sliding over my shoulders to cover my breasts. Chasm frowns and reaches out, sweeping the strands away so that he can look at me. My stomach hurts as I take in the expression on his face. It’s almost indescribably tender, and that scares me a little. “I’m wearing a special sort of menstrual cup that …”

  My words trail off because while sex is one thing, this feels like a whole other element. This is so much more than that. It’s a personal subject to be sure.

  “Did you arrange this in advance?” he asks, dropping back over me with his palms on either side of my body. His smirk is annoyingly self-assured, even in the dark. “Just admit it: you planned this, Little Sister.”

  “I did not plan this; I have a heavy period, and this had really good reviews!”

  “Uh-huh. Reviews about how easy it was to fuck with it in?”

  “You are two seconds away from being thrown right the hell out of this bedroom,” I whisper back, sliding my right hand along the side of Chas’ face to tangle my fingers in his hair. It’s unbelievably silky, and it slides over my skin like water. “Just consider yourself lucky and let it go. You won’t even notice it unless you get …” I almost say ‘too deep’, but the words get stuck in my throat.

  “Mm, guess we’ll test it out? If you like it, we should write a couple’s review.”

  I yank his hair hard and pull him closer to me, kissing him to get him to shut up. Unfortunately, I can taste the fucking smirk on his pretty mouth. Even though I initiated the kiss, once Chasm has me, he won’t let me go, pushing his lips against mine and claiming me with his tongue.

  I relax back into the pillows and he follows me down, sliding his fingers along my bare belly and brushing them across the aching spot between my legs. He dips a single finger inside, and I bite his lip in response.

  “Fuck, I like this,” he whispers back at me, teasing my body with his hand and exploring me unashamedly. He strokes me, grazing fingertips over every part before he inserts two fingers in and curls them slightly, gentling them against my core with easy, confident strokes. “Look at me,” Chasm commands, and I realize that I’ve turned away, unable to bear the weight of his stare. I shift my gaze back, catching his, feeling him in so many more ways than just the physical. “If we’re going to do this, we do it right. No bullshit.” Chasm slows the movement of his hand and then, in a surprising move, grinds the heel of that same hand into my clit.

  My lip catches between my teeth, and I swear, every bone inside my body turns to jelly. I’m weightless and sinking into the mattress.

  “Give the Slayer whatever he wants and then … when Parrish comes back …” Chasm pauses, and seems to choke on his own emotions. “We end this. We cut it off, no matter what, and we focus on him.”

  “You’d give me up that easily?” I whisper, wondering why I’m even asking such a stupid question. Of course this thing between us would end when Parrish comes back. It only makes sense. I want Parrish. Nothing has changed about the way I feel for him. The only thing that’s changed is that my feelings for Chasm have grown so much stronger.

  “Not easily, no,” he replies, kissing me again and working his hand against me in just such a way that any further words I might want to say fade behind a warm blanket of need. It sweeps over me as I dig my fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp and enjoying his natural scent as it takes over my senses. Dark chocolate and peppermint with the faintest hint of tobacco. It gives him this edge, reminds me that he isn’t quite so sweet as he seems.

  He had his female friends beat Lumen up, punched a guy in the face for me, was willing to deliver a dead girl’s body.

  There’s an iron core inside of this boy that I find myself drawn to like a magnet.

  Now that Parrish’s life literally depends on me exploring these emotions, I let it all go. I gather Chasm
against me as he withdraws his hand, making a small sound of protest that causes him to chuckle in a dark, hazy sort of way, like he’s drunk or something.

  “One second, naekkeo,” he growls out, sitting up and undoing his pants. He doesn’t bother to take them all the way off, just unbuttons and unzips them, shoving them down his hips with impatience. He pauses only briefly to withdraw a condom from one pocket.

  I can so easily see it now that he’s said something. Him, at all those parties, taking care of drunk girls and passing out condoms. And he thinks he’s a bad person? Oh, Kwang-seon.

  “What does that mean?” I ask, my voice a little shaky, a little desperate sounding.

  “Naekkeo?” he asks with an annoyingly cocky smile. It’s almost too dark to see, but the faint light from outside catches on the edge of one of his lip studs, making it sparkle. “It means mine.” He hands me the condom package, purposefully curling my fingers around it. “Even if that can’t be true, I can pretend. At least for right now, I can fucking pretend …”

  His words are an odd echo of what Parrish said to me: “It was easier to pretend, Dakota.”

  Although I feel like this situation is the exact opposite. Pretending like this, allowing us to truly fall for each other, it’s a dangerous, dangerous thing.

  I’m going to do it anyway.

  I open the condom package, taking the sticky ring into my fingers, and then I give Chasm a look.

  “Put it on,” he says, waiting for me, watching me. He licks his lower lip as I put my hands around him, unrolling the condom so slowly that he actually makes this frustrated hissing sound. “And this is exactly why I begged you to stop touching me.” Chasm snatches my wrists as soon as I finish, bringing my hands to his lips for a kiss but taking great care with my splinted fingers. He presses his mouth to either of my pulse points before releasing me. “I’d love to taste you, but I guess that can wait until after …” He gestures randomly, and I raise my brows.

  He assumes that we’ll be doing this for the length of my period and then some.

  I guess it all depends on how quickly we find Parrish.

  Chasm drops his mouth to mine again, covering my body with his own and shivering as I trace my fingers down his bare back. I’d love to see his ink, to ask about it, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to do this with the lights on just yet.

  There’s just enough mystery in the dark, just enough quiet to pretend that our feelings for each other exist in a wholly separate world, one where there is no taboo. Where we’re doing nothing wrong. Where we can let ourselves have this.

  My thighs spread for him as Chas settles himself against me, kissing the side of my neck again, his fingers playing with my hair. He takes his time warming me up, turning my body to molten fire before he lines himself up with my opening.

  It’s the polar opposite of what we did in the maze earlier.

  He enters me slowly but completely, not stopping until we’re pressed together, and I forget how to breathe all over again. He stays where he is, stroking my hair back, pressing his cheek to my head. We relax like that for a minute, fitted together, our hearts beating rapidly against one another. I can feel the thrumming of his pulse as I trace my fingers down his neck, drawing them down his back to ass.

  I grip him there and pull him closer, and he makes another frustrated sounding noise.

  “Shit.” Chasm moves back and then pushes forward again, filling me all the way up. With each slow, easy thrust, he gets deeper, until he’s suddenly pausing. I can feel him smiling against my hair. “I can feel it,” he says with an impertinent little chuckle. “The cup.”

  “Shut up,” I growl back at him, forcing our mouths together so he can’t talk and annoy me anymore than he already has. Of course, as soon as he relaxes again and finds a comfortable rhythm for both of us, I’m far from annoyed.

  I’m … something else entirely.

  If you’d told me—the Dakota Banks from upstate New York—that I’d end up in bed with two different guys within four months of arriving here, I’d have laughed my ass off. If you’d told me that I’d be battling my serial killer father … well, I would’ve been far more likely to believe in the double romance scenario.

  “You’re thinking too much,” Chasm whispers, adjusting one of my legs and wrapping his arm around it so that he can push himself even deeper. The sensation makes us both gasp, our mouths brushing, the motion evolving into a kiss. He gets me with that, with this new position, with the heat of his tongue, and the rest of the world falls away.

  With the city lights twinkling in the distance, we work our bodies together until his is stiffening slightly, his fingers tightening against my leg. He pushes it back just a little further and continues to move until his breathing is ragged and broken. The motion of his pelvis is rubbing my clit, but I can tell that he’s going to come first.

  I dig my fingers into his back as he moves harder and faster, muttering dark, quiet things in his native tongue. His pelvis slams into mine over and over again, until he’s giving one, final thrust and groaning against my hair, grinding into me and shuddering with release.

  My breath exhales in a rush as I hold his trembling form against me, enjoying the aftermath of his pleasure, the way he tenses up, trembles, and then goes completely limp.

  “Fuck.” Chasm is gasping, struggling to catch his breath as he pulls out and lays beside me. He removes the condom, tying it off and sticking it into his pants pocket before relaxing with one arm behind my head. With the other, he takes my right hand and guides it to my clit. “Show me how you like it.”

  Somehow, this seems harder to do than actually having him inside of me. When he’s like that, he’s working his own pleasure, lost in it the same way that I am. Like this, he’s just observing. Chasm keeps his hand over mine as I work my body with my fingers, closing my eyes so that I can’t see the limned outline of his face.

  He presses a kiss to my forehead and then slips two fingers inside at just the right moment, making me shudder and clamp around him.

  “Oh, I like that,” he breathes, feeling my body squeeze and caress his fingers as the climax finally takes hold of me. It’s deep and heavy, unfurling from my belly and launching itself into my limbs, into my fingers, making my broken bones throb. They don’t hurt though. Nothing does. All I can feel for a brief moment is pure, unadulterated pleasure.

  I see stars flicker across my vision, blinking them away as I tremble and then melt into a puddle on the mattress. That’s it. My lids feel suddenly heavy, and Chasm chuckles, cuddling me close.

  “I thought guys were the ones who’re supposed to fall asleep right after sex,” he murmurs, and I snort, my eyes still closed, my body sparkling. He has yet to remove his hand, but I don’t mind it. Actually, I like it where it is.

  “Stereotype,” I murmur, and he snorts, pressing his face into my hair. I remember that he told me I smelled like strawberries and sugar, that even my breath was sweet. That’s how he smells to me, how he tastes. “A lot of people fall asleep after sex. Orgasms release a chemical called prolactin; it makes you sleepy and relaxed.”

  Danyella taught me that, but I don’t really want to talk about her or anyone else right now.

  Chasm takes his hand away, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close. We both know we can’t sleep in here together. He’s right: if Tess catches him in here, it’d be nearly as bad as her catching me with Parrish.

  Eventually, Chas will have to head back downstairs to the couch.

  For a while though, we let ourselves have this quiet place all to ourselves. He strokes my bare skin with his knuckles, teasing my breasts, my nipples, making my belly muscles clench. I could easily go again, but I don’t know that it’s worth the risk.

  I can’t lose him.

  And I will, if Tess finds out.

  Apparently, I’m not the only one thinking about that.

  “I should go,” he says, his voice thick with reluctance. “But I really don’t want to.”


  “I need to um, deal with my cup. Can you stay here until I’m done?”

  He nods, and I get up, rushing into the bathroom. I’m pleased to find out that the cup has done its job, keeping the mess of my period contained. I climb into the shower just in case, clean up, and reinsert it. When I head back into the room, Chasm is standing up and looking out the window at the lake. Fortunately, the reporters near the front gate have been forced to move their camp to the end of the street. There are two cops just inside the gate, but there’s no way they can see us in here in the dark.

  My eyes flick to the Tess-phone on its tripod, but I turn away and grab myself some fresh pajamas. I just won’t think about who else might be able to see us right now. It’s a disturbing thought, but I don’t get the feeling that the Slayer is a pervert. That’s not what his interest in me is. He has other motivations. Sinister ones, sure, but not sexual ones.

  Mr. Fosser, on the other hand, I could smell his perversion from a mile away. Kinda glad the fucker is dead to be honest.

  I step up beside Chasm, staring out at the water and the slices of silver moonlight across its surface. He says something to me in Korean, and I give him a look.

  “Please teach me,” I beg, and he smiles, giving a small shake of his head.

  “Finish your Japanese class with an A, and I’ll consider it. But we’ve got finals coming up, and neither of us has studied for shit. Me, I’m not worried about. You … we should probably take some time tomorrow …”

  “I don’t care about finals,” I admit, and Chasm purses his lips. He doesn’t either, at least not in comparison to Parrish. But then I think about Chasm’s father, and how strict he can be. If he doesn’t complete the schoolyear ahead of Lumen, it might hinder our investigation. He might not be able to come over here anymore. “But okay. Just a few hours though. Mostly, I want to keep looking into the key. It’s our best clue for the time being.”

  “Mm.” Chasm turns around, letting his lean body rest against the glass. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks and then pauses, pulling the condom out as I cringe. “I’ll get rid of this,” he says, more to himself than to me, I think. He puts it back and then crosses his arms. “Meanwhile, do you want to talk about anything?”