by Lucy Smoke
knife from her grip and fold it inward. I slip it into my pocket and then circle
the chair.
Slipping a hand under the back, I leverage the chair up and back on all
four legs before striding back to Avalon. She takes my hand silently and lets
me help her up. The front door opens and Brax strides back into the room.
"They'll be here within the hour," he answers my unspoken question.
I nod and then hold out a hand. He knows what I want. Brax smiles as he
withdraws a gun from the small of his back and places it in my palm.
"Avalon," I say again, my voice low, barely above a whisper. "It's time."
Cool, grey-blue eyes lift to meet mine as I press the gun into her hand.
Her fingers curl around it and she tips her head back even more, her
lashes lowering until barely a slit of her eyes is visible through their dark
shadows. Her lips part and she releases a slow breath. "Kiss me," she
commands.
A smirk appears on my face. I couldn't fucking fight it even if I wanted
to. Reaching up, I cup her cheek and press my lips to hers. My tongue moves
into her mouth as her arm lifts. She doesn't even look at Corina as she pulls
the trigger, and the loud explosion of the gun going off in her grip is damn
near silent next to the raging desire I have for her. The guttural, pain filled
moans cut off in an instant and there's nothing left except blessed quiet and
the sounds of Avalon's breath against mine.
Carefully, I extract the gun from her grip and hold it out. Braxton's hand
brushes mine as he takes it back. I hear his chuckle as he backs out of the
room—fucker. He said the cleaners would be here in an hour, that means I've
got that fucking long to see how often I can make my girl come next to the
cooling body of the bitch who tried to hurt her.
No one can destroy Avalon. She's beyond that. Beyond everything.
Her arms arch up around my neck and her legs tense a split second before
she jumps. As soon as she does, my hands find a grip right beneath her
thighs. I back her up until her spine slams into a wall. She grunts into my
mouth, biting down on my lower lip in retaliation.
I smile against her little bite, shoving my hands up her shirt, feeling the
warmth of her abdomen under my greedy fingers. I keep going until the
undersides of her breasts are in my palms, and I push her bra up, capturing
her nipples in my grip, and twist lightly. She gasps against me, her pussy
grinding down against my crotch as I rub against her insistently.
"How do you feel right now, baby?" I ask her.
"Good," she answers, panting. "Strong. Powerful. Freed." Exactly how
she should feel.
"I'm glad," I tell her, nibbling a path down her throat as I pinch and twist
her rosy nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. She groans, her head
going back, smacking into the wall. That won't do, I think. I don't want her to
hurt, not unless it's from me.
I pull her back away from the wall, turn and go down on one knee.
Avalon, being the woman that she is, doesn't release me even as her body
moves down. She clenches around me, tightening her thighs as her ankles
lock together at the small of my back. Her back arches and I hate the fabric
between us. As soon as her upper back touches down on the floorboards, I
reach down and rip it up over her head, snapping her bra's front clasp. Fuck
that shit. She shouldn't be wearing that around me.
My hands find her breasts again and knead them as her lips return to
mine. Hot. Heavy. Without reserve. That's what we are. Avalon holds nothing
back when my hands are on her. I lean down, lifting one breast up as I lick
over the tip of her nipple and bite down. A moan escapes her throat, and
beneath me her hips lift, rubbing her cloth covered pussy against my dick.
"Dean..." She says my name like it's a goddamn prayer, and it does
something to me. I want that. I want her to pray to me. I'm already her king,
but if I could be more—if I could be everything to this woman—I'd sell my
fucking soul. I want to be her god.
"Tell me what you want, Babe," I whisper, against her flesh, blowing air
across her nipple and watching it harden under my ministrations. "Use your
words."
Her hands clench in my hair, jerking my head up as she glares down her
chest at me. I smile. "Don't fucking patronize me, Dean," she hisses. "I want
you to fuck me."
"You want me to fuck you?" I repeat, amused. "Right here? Right now?
Braxton's outside, you know? If you come screaming on my cock, he'll
probably hear you."
"I don't care," she responds.
"Oh?" I turn my cheek, peeking across the room at the body of Corina
Harrison. It's empty—void of life—slumped over with her eyes wide open
and staring at nothing. "What about that?" I ask. "You want to fuck right next
to a dead body?"
Avalon parts her lips and lets out a laugh. So loud and strong that it
makes me blink. When she's finally done, amusement still twitches at her lips
and she looks back at me. "Are you scared?" she asks. "'Cause I'm not. I'll
fuck you in her blood if you want me to."
My stomach clenches at that offer. I can picture it. Avalon covered from
head to toe in blood, smiling at me as she lifts a hand out towards me. Fuck,
I'm so fucking done. I don't give her an answer. I can't. Because the image in
my own mind makes me go crazy. Psycho. Lost. That's what I am for her.
Our mouths clash, teeth clanging together, moans slipping from my throat
to hers and back again. She writhes under me as I divest her of her clothes.
Her nails cut into my flesh as she does the same to me until the two of us are
rolling across the floor naked. We've shifted and moved so much that we're
much closer to the corpse than before. I don't care.
I put my hand down and nearly slip when blood touches my palm,
making it sticky and wet. Avalon shoves me onto my back, pushing my spine
into a pool of that blood as she climbs on top of me. She takes my hand and
guides it to the place between her thighs, moaning and undulating on top of
me as I finger her clit.
"Dean," she pants, "I need you. Now."
I need her too, so I don’t waste any more time. I can't. Not now. I lift her
and settle her over the head of my cock. Her pussy catches me and holds me
as she sinks slowly down over me. Her head tips back until I can feel the ends
of her dark, ink-like hair brushing against the top of my thighs. She's so
beautiful like this. Riding me into oblivion.
She clenches down, her addictive cunt gripping me as tight as a vise—
almost like she's afraid I'll pull out and shove her away. I wouldn't do that.
Not to her. "Fuck me, baby," I urge in the most guttural tone I've ever heard
in my life. It's hard to speak past the lust crawling through me.
I palm her stomach and reach down to pinch her clit as she begins her
ride. She shudders but begins to move faster. Her hips shift up and down and
back and forth as she takes me to fucking paradise. My hands are covered in
blood and they leave marks across her pale skin. Smudges of red and brown
over her tits, her thighs, her abdomen, and
hips.
Playing with her clit makes her go wild. She gasps and moans, her eyes
tightening as her head comes forward once more. I release her and palm the
back of her skull, leaning up to suck on her bottom lip. She bites me again—
angry that I've stopped. I laugh. I can't help that her little aggressive actions
turn me on even more. My little psycho. My savage queen.
"Come on, baby," I taunt her. "You wanted my dick, now you've got it.
What are you gonna do with it?"
Her eyes meet mine as she glares at me. Her hands shoot forward, one
gripping my throat as she presses down and continues to ride. "Shut up," she
growls, but her pussy never stops its momentum. She's fucking close. Riding
my cock for all it's worth. I can feel my own orgasm rising to the top of this
precipice we're on, but she's not quite there yet and I won't go over without
her.
A groan bubbles out of my throat. Fuck, I'm gonna come. "Ava," I
wheeze out. Her hand clenches down against my throat harder, until no air
passes through. Oh fuck, that's hot. Watching her ride me as the edges of my
vision flicker. I know exactly what she's feeling right now. She's feeling like
she's on top of the world, all powerful, as her tiny little hands cut off my
airflow. I know because I've done this for her before. It's hot. It's irrefutable.
It's dangerous.
I clench my teeth and force back my orgasm as my hands tighten at her
hips and pull her down harder on my cock. She's no longer riding me so
much as I'm forcing her onto my dick, shoving her down until I swear I'm
gonna bruise her insides. She doesn't hesitate or flinch though when I mouth
the word "harder" to her. She smiles and reaches up with her other hand,
holding both over my throat as I fuck her hard, pulling her onto my cock until
her grip weakens. I just need her to come before I pass out. That'll be enough.
That'll be like reaching the perfect fucking high.
It's right there—just out of reach. I'm gonna hit it. I know I am. As soon
as Avalon cries out and her hands loosen their hold on my throat entirely, I
feel her pussy spasm and clamp down on my cock.
"Fuck!" I grunt as oxygen reinvades my lungs. I grit my teeth as I come
hard, filling her up from the inside until I feel the wetness between her legs
leak out across my thighs and she slumps over, her breasts smacking my
chest as she gasps for air.
Her hair smooths over my skin, the dark strands all that I can see as I lay
there and try to catch my own breath. Without thinking, I reach down and
finger a strand of her dark hair between my thumb and forefinger. I bring it
up as I close my eyes and press a soft kiss to it.
Every time with her is like the first time. Every time is new, fresh, and
exhilarating. In a thousand years—in a million—I don't think I'll ever find
another woman like Avalon Manning.
39
AVALON
MONEY REALLY DOES EQUAL POWER, I ACKNOWLEDGE HOURS LATER AFTER
we’ve showered off the remains of Corina’s blood and gotten changed into
clothes Abel brought to us. We didn't even need to dump Corina's corpse. I
won't ever need to lay eyes on her again. She's gone. Done. And now it's time
for me to move on.
When Braxton, Dean, and I get back to the hotel, Abel is waiting. We
check out and get back to the SUV to start the drive back to Eastpoint. Maybe
it should bother me that we all act so goddamn casual after our latest torture
and murder, but it doesn't. Hell, I'm officially a regular offender now.
First, Roger Murphy. Second, my mother. Now, Corina Harrison.
I'm a serial killer.
The thought makes me chuckle as Dean speeds down the highway. His
head tilts and he casts a curious look my way. I shake my head and reach out,
taking his hand in mine. I feel the muscles under his skin jump when I do and
frown at him before realizing the tops of his ears are turning red. He
refocuses his gaze through the windshield and I'm left holding back even
more laughter.
A little over an hour later, as we pull up to the front of the Carter
Mansion, I spot a black sedan parked in front of the doors. The easy, relaxed
air within the SUV evaporates, leaving behind only tension.
"Who's that?" I demand.
Dean pulls his hand from mine as he steers the SUV around the smaller
car and towards the garage. "Stay in the car," he orders.
"Dean?" I stare at him, but he merely shakes his head and throws the
vehicle into park. I'm too stunned to do anything but follow his command as
Dean rips the keys out of the ignition. He and the guys slip out of the car and
approach the unfamiliar car. The driver's side door opens and a tall, elderly
man steps out.
He doesn't look particularly dangerous, but then again, neither do I, I
suspect. His wrinkled face shows no emotion as Dean, Braxton, and Abel all
stride towards him. There isn't a single relaxed bone in any of their bodies
now. Each of them approaches slowly and with reserve, as if they're
expecting an attack at any moment. I glance around the front of the house,
scanning—trying to see what the hell they're so freaked out about.
When I don't find anything, I return my attention to the old man and the
sedan. The man is speaking, his expression stoic and emotionless. With the
dark gray hair and the unwrinkled business suit he's wearing, I expect that he
must work for one of the guys' fathers. But which one? They all seem
irritated by his presence.
I study Dean's body language as he shifts to the side, his profile to me as
his eyes remain on the unknown man. Abel is speaking, shaking his head and
clearly agitated. His dad? I wonder. But then the old man says something and
turns to Braxton. Braxton frowns as he listens, but his lips never part and he
doesn't say anything. When the old man is done, Brax merely turns to Dean
and gives him a look that obviously says 'how do you want to handle this?'
Irritation flares to life inside of me. I don't like sitting on the sidelines. In
fact, I fucking hate it. Tapping my fingers against the inside of the passenger
door, I debate what to do. When several minutes go by, I curse and reach
down, unclipping my seatbelt. I reach for the door, intending to get out and
demand to know what the fuck is going on. The second my hand lands on the
door handle, however, a loud snick echoes in the interior of the vehicle.
My lips part in shock. No. No, he fucking wouldn't. I raise my gaze
slowly, sure that I've mistaken that sound, but Dean's head is turned towards
me, a scowl on his face. Yes, he fucking did. He shakes his head at me and
then pivots back to the old man.
There must be something wrong with me, brain damage perhaps from
some unknown source, because despite knowing what that look meant, I can't
help but try the handle. Yup, it's locked. I reach up and click the unlock
button and hear the lock snick back into place almost immediately. My gaze
lifts back to Dean, but his eyes aren't on me. How the fuck is he doing this?
I grip the handle and yank, but it's useless. "You motherfucker..." I let out
a low half-laugh. Big fuckin
g mistake, D-man, I think. As soon as I get out of
this fucking SUV, I'm going to tear his ass to shreds.
Minutes later, red faced and growing more pissed with each passing
second, I give up on trying to get out of the vehicle. And it seems no sooner
do I fucking stop beating against the side of the fucking car and rocking it—
not that the old man or the guys ever cast a look my way as I tried to get out
—the locking mechanism inside the door snaps open.
My attention lifts to the guys and I gape as I watch Abel and Braxton
walk towards the back of the sedan—Abel in obvious anger, kicking up dust
and pebbles as he storms towards his door, and Braxton with a cold
expression. Dean sighs as the old man gets into the driver's seat and then
finally turns back to me.
I pop open the SUV door, slipping out until the soles of my sneakers hit
the pavement. Something's wrong, I think as I watch the sedan back out of
the driveway, turn around, and head towards the road.
"What the fuck is going on?" is the first thing I say as Dean moves
towards me.
"Their fathers have called them to come home," Dean says through gritted
teeth.
I shake my head. That doesn't make any fucking sense to me. Their home
is here. Dean stops at my side and then reaches past me to close the door to
the SUV. "Don't worry about it," he says quietly. "Let's go inside."
I look up at him. "Sure, but there's just one thing I need to do first."
Dean's head pivots towards me and my fist catches his jawline just as he's
almost fully facing me so he takes almost the entire weight of my rage.
"Shit!" He curses, stumbling back a step or two.
"Don't," I start, growling low, "ever. Fucking. Lock. Me. Up. Again."
His face goes hard as he rubs his jaw. "I told you to stay put," he snaps.
"You weren't doing what I asked."
"I don't give a shit," I snap, marching past him. "Do it again, and we'll be
right back here, doing this again."
"I don't want you involved with that man, Avalon," he replies.
My feet halt several feet away, and without thought, I spin back and stride
towards him. As he straightens, my fingers lock into the front of his shirt and
I shove him back until his spine slams into the side of the SUV. " I. Don't.
Care," I hiss, glaring up into his dark, soil-rich eyes. "Never again. Do you
