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“You should cut her tongue out,” I state plainly, leaving no emotions in the words, simply so the woman who dared to touch my man will panic all the more.
Cole’s eyes sparkle, and his smile somehow seems bigger, even if it doesn’t change at all. Perhaps now it’s more real or has more truth behind it. “Someone’s jealousy is showing.”
“No, Cole. It’s not jealousy, it’s possessiveness. You’re mine. Forever and always.”
A rumble starts in his chest, a sound so similar to a purr it almost makes me question who suddenly swapped places with him. More surprising, though, is the zip of pleasure that goes through my cunt, as if he brushed his finger through my wetness.
“That I am, Luv.” He licks his lips, his eyes traveling over my skin like a caress. “Hold her still for me, and I’ll deliver her tongue for deigning to think she could ever use it to draw me away from you.”
The stench of fear sours the air. You’d think it would make it harder to breathe, but it only adds to the joy of it all. Her eyes lock on Cole, trying to catch his gaze, but my man doesn’t even glance at her. He remains fixed on me. Growing desperate, she shakes her head, attempting to persuade him not to do it.
I’m pleasantly surprised she doesn’t say anything, her unimagined nightmares come to life keeping her lips sealed tight. It won’t stop us from doing it, though.
Leaning close, I run my nose along her cheek, sniffing deeply. “Your terror is an intoxicating perfume, darling. I wish I could bottle it up to enjoy well past your death.”
A shiver wracks her body as the sound of Cole tsking reaches me. “Don’t reach for me again, or we’ll turn this from playing to torture. And trust me, doll, you won’t like that.” With his words, I notice the way she attempted to grip his shirt, begging him for a way out of this.
At this point, she should know better. And we should’ve driven the message home by now as well.
Shifting my position in the back seat, I brace myself to hold onto our date night toy. Her forehead is clammy with sweat when I press my palm to it, using my shoulder behind her headrest to give me extra leverage to hold her still through her thrashing as she knows what’s about to happen. My other hand grips her chin, forcing her mouth open, but at this point, it wasn’t as hard as I was expecting it would be seeing as she’s broken through her fear and is screaming at the top of her lungs.
Cole winces, shaking his head as he lifts the knife to her mouth. He says something, but there’s no possible way for me to hear him over the noise. Doesn’t matter though, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything he said right now, anyway. I’m too transfixed by the glow coming from his smile. It reaches his eyes and covers his skin in a way I’ve never seen before.
My hacker might be in his element behind a computer screen, but killing is where he thrives. It’s his happy place, just as it is mine. No wonder my men make claims that they love watching me like this. There’s nothing like seeing first hand pure joy radiating from someone you care for.
And what makes it better, we both unequivocally love the same thing. Killing isn’t something we’ll ever simply put up with in our significant other’s life. No, it’s ingrained in everything that we are.
We get to share our passion… there isn’t anything that binds a relationship tighter than that.
I can’t tell you what steps Cole takes to remove her tongue, but I can tell you all the ways his face shines with elation. How at one point his expression twists with concentration. How he bites his lower lip, then licks his teeth marks away. It makes me entirely jealous and filled with lust, wanting to jump him right this very second—to hell with what he’s doing and if it makes him kill her prematurely.
Before I can take action on my thoughts, Cole turns to me. In his hand is a bloody chunk of what I can only assume is her tongue. “It’s not as good of a job as if I had the right tools, but it’ll do for our purposes right now.” He grins, holding the red muscle up like he’s posing for a trophy picture like other men do with a fish.
With a quick check on our victim, I find she’s passed out. For how long, I’m not sure, but I can’t say I care right now, I want my man with a burning passion that can’t be extinguished. It’s not far for me to reach when I peel my hands from their tight grip on her face, to claim Cole. But before I can get him in my hold, he lunges back, escaping with a laugh.
I growl. “What the fuck, Cole?”
A hearty laugh comes from deep in his chest, the level of his joy ratcheting higher. “Patience, my love. I want to play a game first. You can’t have me until our toy is dead. You’ll enjoy me even more if I make you wait.”
His smirk nearly makes me change my mind, making me contemplate if killing him wouldn’t be the better option. But after a split second, I can’t help but admit I like the idea of a game. It at least intrigues me enough to find out what he has in mind.
“You have five seconds to convince me to play your game, otherwise we’ll do things my way,” I huff. Serial killer with an attitude. They aren’t someone you want to mess with.
“What if I take longer?” His eyes sparkle with a challenge I didn’t give him. “What will you do?”
“You don’t want to find out,” I growl. “Now get on with telling me.”
He bites that bottom lip, knowing exactly what it’s doing to me right now. The asshole is using himself as a weapon against me. I hate it. I love it. It’s decidedly evil. I want it forever.
“Actually, I do want to know. Come on, tell me what you’d do.”
The motherfucker is baiting me, and it’s working. I’m falling right in his trap, and even though I know it, I’m helpless to stop myself. I lunge, my hands outstretched, reaching for him, wanting to… I guess strangle him. To get to him in any way I can.
Cole, my sweet, murderous man, who’s stronger and more versed in our lives than I am, wraps his hand around my throat and stops me in my tracks. The uncomfortable feeling of being choked stops me from moving, even if irritation and anger courses through me. How did things take a turn so quickly?
His tongue flicks against the roof of his mouth, making that tsking sound he made for our victim what feels like only a few minutes ago. His fingers trail across my forehead before tucking my hair behind my ear. It’s a soft touch that he contrasts with shifting his hold on my neck. His fingers ripple across my sensitive skin, like he’s purposefully flexing each finger to remind me they’re there.
I’m halfway between the two front seats, the tight fit squeezing against my hips as he rests awkwardly against the steering wheel. It barely takes any effort at all and he’s in my face, his mouth barely a breath away.
