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She yells, a mix of a rasp and her soul leaving her body. Her forehead hits the wall three times before she relaxes, and her knees give up. She falls to the floor, and from my position, I can barely catch her. I manage to grab her waist and flatten my legs as she falls on my lap, pressing my back against the wall. She ends up straddling me, her face in front of mine.
Her flushed cheeks aren’t what pulls at something inside me. It’s the stars in her green eyes. The shining mist that gives her the look of a fairy. Her black hair counters that, and that awful tattoo along her hairline reading ‘HELL’ shows who she really is. A demon with beautiful eyes that hide a broken soul. A soul now shattered by an overwhelming orgasm.
“Tell me.”
She takes a staggered breath, lets her head fall against my shoulder, and whispers, “Satisfaction.”
“Mm.” I bring my right hand to the back of her head, scratching her scalp in a soft gesture. “Good to hear.”
Because for every single emotion I understand from Kayla, it’s a new weapon in my arsenal to destroy her.
“Please…” The pained voice makes me look up, and I’m suddenly reminded of Daniel and his hand impaled on the dresser.
I reach inside my pocket, and while Kayla is lost in her own world, her head resting on my shoulder, I undo the cuff at her ankle.
I tap her thigh. “Go shower. I need you in my office afterward.”
Instead of getting up, she bucks her hips, pressing her hot core against my hard-on. She doesn’t look up from my shoulder, only uttering a pathetic whimper.
“I’ll return the favor,” she whispers, ashamed of what she’s offering. She’s clearly still horny and her brain clouded from the orgasm.
I chuckle. Fisting her hair, I pull her head back so she’s looking at me. She winces, her beautiful features twisting.
“I’m not like you, Kayla. I’m not weak to the person I hate just because they can make me come. Now get your desperate pussy off my dick and go shower.”
I pull her off me by the hair, sending her flying to the side. She gasps when she crashes against the floor, but catches herself flat on her hands at the last second.
Standing, I dust off my pants, smiling at myself when I see the wet spot on my crotch.
I turn around, looking down at her. “Dirty girl.”
Then I’m back on my way to Daniel. I yank the fork out of his hand with more strength than I thought I’d need, and to his credit, he holds back another scream.
Damn, I was angry when I stabbed him. I can’t even remember why. Now that I have Kayla’s taste lingering on my tongue and her desperate form looking up at me from the floor, my violence seems like it was unnecessary. I guess that’s what happens when Sam isn’t here to stop me.
“You’re fired.” He doesn’t wait to be told twice. He’s out of the room in a split second, cradling his hand to his chest. I walk after him, not giving Kayla a last look.
I want to make sure she knows she is still less than nothing.
This is her own personal hell.
And she fucking belongs to me.
14
KAYLA
AMERICAN HORROR SHOW - SNOW WIFE
I wipe the mist on the mirror with my forearm and barely hold back a groan. I don’t like how I look. It’s not as bad as three days ago. The eye bags are gone, my nose isn’t swollen anymore, and the bruise on my cheek is greenish rather than black and purple.
But something is wrong and it shows in my gaze. The green is still sparkling from the orgasm Nate gave me, and it’s only lessened by my self-loathing.
I turn around, looking at the initials on my ass cheek, and I bite my lower lip to not let out a desperate whimper. It’s red, burning, a part of the W still bleeding. A mark from the devil himself.
How did I let this happen?
No matter how much I want to put this on the threat of the knife or Nate’s overpowering strength, I know it’s not. It’s my own weakness. He’s right; I’m weak. Desperate. I let the person I hate the most in the world make me feel good. I feel like a deer that approached a hunter for petting.
