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Holy shit.
His lips bruise mine, his tongue roughly pushing past them.
Fuck me, I can taste it.
All of it.
All our darkness, our depravity, and our violence.
Because what I’m tasting on his lips as he kisses me fiercely is cum and blood.
That’s when I know I’ve officially toppled over the edge of reality into an oblivion I’m not sure I’ll ever emerge from again.
I’m shaking as he pulls away. Not just shaking. Aching—full-body, painful aching.
But holy fuck, is it good.
“There’s a couch a foot to your left.”
I shiver at the uncanny, almost normal tone in his voice. It’s still dark, but it’s lost the psychotic edge and the mania it had before.
My throat working, I turn and feel my way to the left, shivering a little when I reach the couch.
“You’ll find your heels there, and a new black dress to wear when you leave. It’s not Dolce, but it’ll do.”
I take a shaky breath, feeling up onto the couch until my fingers do indeed touch fabric and heels.
How the fuck did he know where the couch was? How the fuck are my shoes over here now?
Shaking, I let the shredded remains of my chiffon dress fall to the floor as I stand. Immediately, I groan, wincing as I twist to land on the couch.
Fuck, am I sore.
Bruised.
Ravished.
Ahh—!
I choke out a cry as his hands grab my hip and a fist of my hair from behind. He yanks me against his hard, chiseled body, his cock still swollen as it throbs against my ass. He bites down on my shoulder, making me yelp.
“Thirty-two steps in front of you are the stairs. You can find your way from there.”
I swallow, nodding my head even though I know he can’t see.
Or maybe he can?
I take one step, then another, before I gasp, sensing his presence right next to me in the inky darkness.
“I’m proud of you, kitten,” he growls.
I shiver.
“You didn’t use the safe word once.”
Reality glitches as I realize I forgot there even was a safe word.
“You were a very good girl tonight, kitten.”
