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She obeyed. “I’m fine,” she stuttered, but quickly cleared her throat. “Almost done.”
“Yes, you are,” I whispered breathily.
“Do you need me to come in?” he asked.
“No.” She gulped, her voice strained. “Don’t come.”
“Or do,” I teased, feeling her throb on my fingers.
I heard his footsteps leave, my heart pounding. I pushed my cock against her lower stomach, forcing her panties down to her knees. Grabbing her round ass, I tightened my grip, lifting her against the wall. Starting with the tip, I eased my way in, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, thrusting me deeper. Every moral dissolved into nothing as her pussy gripped my cock, holding me inside. My toes curled in my shoes as want rippled through my torso, a heavy ache building, one only satisfied by her.
Her teeth sank into my shoulder, her hot breaths on me as her fangs elongated, snapping any restraint I had left. Then, sliding my hand under her nightgown, I found her full tits, her nipples rock hard as I flicked one, coaxing a louder moan from her.
Shit. He’d had to have heard that. Even with the shower on.
Fuck it.
Locking the door with my other hand, I grabbed her hair, forcing her head back.
Liquid fire seared in my veins as I thrusted harder, her legs pulling me in deeper as if we somehow had any space left between us.
She ran her hands up my chest, unbuttoning my shirt. Steadying her on my dick, I pounded her to the sound of her boyfriend’s knocks. The handle pulled down, the sound electrifying our desire as I fucked his girlfriend.
She clung to me as her boyfriend’s shouting from outside the door lost to her groans. “Come for me, baby girl,” I ordered.
She tensed, her vocal cords lost as her orgasm tightened her pussy around my dick, and I became undone.
I grabbed her ass as a hot pressure built in the base of my length and contractions rippled in my lower belly. My mind went numb as she screamed my name. The muscles in my thighs tensed, spasms shooting up my shaft, intensifying until I exploded inside her, my eyes rolling back in my head as if I felt like I left my soul.
I pumped faster, breathless, my nails biting into her ass as I spilled hot cum. Her groans synced with mine until they slowed, and I softly rocked the last of our orgasm, my legs twitching.
She slumped against me, her head resting on my shoulder. Astor banged on the door again, but we didn’t give a fuck. I hoped he heard her scream—for me, only me.
THIRTY-FIVE
Sebastian
Olivia splayed her fingers over my chest as morning stole the night away from us far too soon. “Morning, love.” I brushed a finger down the side of her face, admiring the flecks of pale brown in her green eyes. When the light hit them right, they appeared golden. Yet, behind them, I sensed her worry. “What’s wrong?” She cast her eyes downward. “My eyes are up here,” I teased, but she didn’t smile. “Talk to me.”
“How do you define evil?”
I sat upright, and she pushed back against the pillows, the sheets hugging the contours of her body. It was a question I’d often pondered since I’d been turned. I thought back to Velda, and when she’d slaughtered my family. Before then, I often believed evil was just someone who wanted to do bad things. Still, when I saw her, and the lack of anything behind her eyes, I felt the true darkness of what evil was. Sometimes it hid behind the prettiest of smiles. “It’s an absence of light.”
She fingered her bracelet, not meeting my eyes. “What if you do something bad and enjoy it?”
I sucked in a deep breath, thinking back to Hamza. I’d enjoyed torturing him, so much there was no room for remorse. But when I’d killed the guards, I’d spent nights trying to justify it, to come up with every reason under the sun so the guilt couldn’t chip away enough. But I hurt from it, and even now, they trickled into my mind. “It depends on the context. Why do you ask?”
She swallowed thickly. “I-I tortured that server guy, Henry.”
I sighed, lifting her chin, bringing her glossy gaze to mine. “Oh, baby girl, if you’re worried you’re evil, I can assure you, you’re not. There is not an evil bone in your body.” She opened her mouth to argue, but I interrupted. I couldn’t bear the thought of her thinking she was a bad person. “If you were evil, you wouldn’t be questioning it. That man cooked your friend and tried to feed him to you. He deserved whatever you did to him, and just because you liked it only makes you human, not bad. We are not ethereal beings. We’re complicated, messy things, and often, the lines of morality get blurred.”
“It felt too good,” she admitted, her lips pursing. “I hate that I liked it so much.”
I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, gently touching her cheek as I moved my hand away. “That only means you have a heart. I’ve met evil—lived with it, even—and it looks nothing like you.”
“I keep thinking about Draven’s body.” She choked out a cry. “His body was defiled, all to hurt me.”
“His soul was not in there,” I assured, knowing she needed to hear it. “That doesn’t take away from it, but he’s not in pain anymore.” I struggled to find the right words, not wanting to burrow that agony deeper. Instead, I pulled her close as a sob quaked through her. “The ones responsible will pay for what they did. Erianna is trying to find out who else was there.”
