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I turn, nuzzling my nose into his head before tracing his hairline with it until I reach his ear. A smile curves my lips, and I whisper lightly against him. “Then I’ll let you punish me.”
My words seem to snap him out of whatever weird alternate reality bubble he was in. He slowly reaches for my chin, gripping it in his hold so he can turn it the way he wants as he stares into my gaze.
“I’ll hold you to that, Luv.” He uses his fake British accent I love so much. It sends shivers down my spine and makes my toes curl. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and watch as he uses the tip of his knife to make his cut. It’s a quick flick of his wrist, the slice only about an inch and a half, but it does its job.
I’m distracted from watching the blood seep from it when Cole tilts his head and bites my lip. The sting makes me instantly lick the marks he left behind and I come back with a copper taste. It’s not much, barely a hint, but enough to know he broke the skin. Fucking savage. I love it.
Not wanting to wait, I reach out and add another slice to her arm, the swipe of the blade causing a splatter of blood to arc in the air. I wince. It doesn’t take much to realize I’m not as skilled with using a knife on a victim as Cole.
“Whoa! You don’t get to slice when it’s not your turn. That’s not how the game works, missy,” Cole says as the pitiful girl stirs. A distorted moan comes from her, but she hasn’t fully come to yet.
“Except you asked me another question, so I am too following the rules,” I answer back, enjoying his game a lot more than I thought I would.
“If we’re playing tit for tat, then I get another go as well. Now the question is, are we adding in who makes the biggest mess with our slices?” He pointedly looks at the blood splatter from my last go, raising an eyebrow. “I need to teach you how to do that on purpose for that to be fair, though.”
Cole’s shoulder crosses into my line of vision, making it so I’m unable to see what he does, but when he moves again, his blade arcs, making blood splatter through the air. I’m not sure if it’s the movement he makes, or if he scooped blood on the knife, or if it’s his method of cutting, but one thought springs to mind. Men… always making a bigger mess than necessary—even if I do enjoy it when it comes to this.
“My turn,” he growls deeply. “What do you think our lives look like five years from now?”
“What? Are you asking interview questions? That’s not very original of you, Cole.” I can’t help the snarky response from coming out. But it really does sound like he’s gearing up to ask me what my strengths and weaknesses are next.
Cole rolls his eyes, not finding me amusing. “Fine. How many bedrooms do you want in your next house?”
“Ohhh,” I teasingly coo. “Such a domesticated question. Are we discussing paint colors and throw pillows next?”
“For fuck’s sake, Raven. I want to know how you see things working out with us. Do you want us all to live together, or would you prefer your own space and we can make a schedule of some sort…” He leaves his statement open ended, like he truly doesn’t know what other options there could be. I’d think he was sounding vulnerable again if it wasn’t for the complete tone of being fed up with me laced throughout.
“As if my Ravenmasters would be satisfied with anything other than living in the same house. Some days, I wonder if you’d even let me have any personal time without your prying eyes on me.” I spin my knife between my fingers. “I’m not delusional, Cole.”
“Oh, Luv.” He smirks at me, his eyes gleaming, making my heart speed up. “I’ll always have eyes on you, no matter what.”
There’s no question about it, I don’t need any other signs that I’m irrevocably fucked in the head. But if I did, this would be it. The fact that I find his words so damn romantic.
I spin my knife around, offering him the handle. He doesn’t need one, obviously, since he has one in his hand already, but it’s a symbolic gesture.
Cole raises an eyebrow in question. “What’s this?”
“I need you to end her, so I can screw your brains out.”
Chapter 11
Raven
I’m not sure when I started to fall so hard for moments where Cole sheds his mask and experiences true joy. Not the ones where we used to fake normalcy, but times like this where the happiness comes from deep within him. But they’ve become one of my favorite things in life. Right next to killing…
“Oh! Wait,” I shout, the thought reminding me. He tilts his head as if wondering if I have some screws loose. Admittedly, the answer is probably a resounding yes. It makes me realize he hasn’t even taken the offered knife from me yet.
“Oops.” I shrug a shoulder. What else can I do? I have other damn things on my mind now. Not wanting to risk forgetting again, I lean to her ear and whisper, “Nevermore.”
“Why are you doing that if you’re letting me be the one to kill her?” he asks. “Not to mention she was a gift for you. I’m not sure it would look good on me if I took my present back, even when you’re offering.”
I grit my teeth. Fuck. I didn’t even think of that. He makes a really good point. “You’re right,” I say, drawing the knife away. “She’s mine to kill.”
He gives me a smile, the kind that says he finds me utterly adorable. “Give me your hand, Luv.” I warily eye his open palm held out for me, not entirely sure I want to take it. She’s my kill, after all. “We can do it together. I’ll even show you where to cut to spray blood everywhere.” His grin shifts into something mischievous, and I’m too weak to turn away from it.
Putting the hand holding the knife in his palm, he wraps his fingers around mine and guides me toward the girl. Excitement pounds through me, making it to where I feel every beat of my heart. There’s no thrill like killing.
Fixing my eyes on the tip of the blade, I watch as Cole carefully guides us into slicing her skin. The angle we twist into makes me appreciate how she’s already positioned with the seat reclined. I can only imagine how awkward it would be had she been sitting with me squeezing between the two seats.
