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“I see you really do know what I am. Perry Phillip Hurd. Born in the eighth of April to Elise and James Hurd of Kansas City, Missouri.” I rattle off his biography. Not because it matters, but because it scares him.
“Your mother’s a retired dental hygienist. Your father works for the railroad. Only child. Undergrad degree in English with a minor in mid-twentieth century European literature. TAing for free in exchange for Professor Simek’s silence about the girl you stalked and cheated off of your senior year. Fuck, man, you could be a more boring cliché?”
“How do you know all this?” Shock and outrage make his voice a squeak.
“You stalked my woman here. To my home. And you’re shocked I know every dirty thing about your pathetic life? Perry, Perry, Perry. My friend, a grad student ought to be smarter than this.”
I feel Perla’s presence hovering in the doorway. Perry’s eyes cut to her. His earlier bravado is completely gone as he realizes how fucked he is.
“Perla, tell him he’s got it wrong. I’m no stalker! I’ve only tried to protect you. To show you how I care!” Far from the conquering hero he imaged himself when he stormed to my front door, now he’s reduced to begging his victim for salvation.
“The way you cared for Vanessa Gilmer two years ago, when you were both seniors? When you stalked and scared her so badly she dropped out of school?” I ask.
His head drops low, his chin bouncing against the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He’s trapped. Cornered. Forced to face the truth of himself. The truth he’s not making it out of this room alive.
“You should go back to bed,” I instruct Perla.
“I should stay right here,” she fires back.
“You don’t need to see this, Little Mouse. It won’t be pretty.” I want to spare her the visual, though the outcome won’t change. She already knows I’m a possessive man. Now, she can add stone-cold killer to the list of things she knows about me.
She shocks me. “I don’t need pretty. I need real. If I’m yours the way you claim, show me what that means. Show me all of you.”
Perry opens his mouth to speak, and I crack him across the jaw hard enough to knock him out. I don’t want his slimy voice ruining this moment between Perla and me.
“I’m not a good man, Little Mouse.” I’m not making excuses. I am what I am.
“You’re good to me, though. You’re keeping me safe. Protecting me from my stalker. Right?” She stares into my eyes, no fear in her. No shame or judgment.
“No one will ever harm you. Not while there’s breath in my body to defend you,” I vow, the promise I’m making sacred. “I’ll turn the earth red with blood to avenge every wrong ever done to you.”
“I think taking care of this one is enough. For now.” My sweet mouse isn’t quite the innocent flower I’d assumed she was. Her bloodthirst surprises me and fills me with pride.
I could have hidden the true nature of my work from her forever, and would have done so gladly to keep her innocence and naivety intact, but there’s a freedom in knowing I won’t need to. She may not be a serial killer, the way she teased just this morning or the way Max’s wife, Cynbel, actually is, but she’s tough.
“Glory’s gonna love you, Little Mouse.” And I can’t wait to introduce Perla to Glory and Cynbel. They’re the only women I’ve ever known who are strong enough to tame the mafia beasts that Allard men are.
Perla’s strength matches theirs, though it’s softer and lighter on its surface. I step away from Hurd’s crumpled form to capture her lips in a brutal kiss, marking her with swollen lips and whisker burns.
“Alright, baby, watch me get to work,” I say.
And she does.
Epilogue 1
EV
3 YEARS LATER
I’ll never get enough of seeing my wife bred with my babies, though I’m glad this time there’s just the one baby. Science and her doctor may choose to disagree with me, but I’ll never believe it was anything less than the complete drowning of her cervix the day we met that led to our twins’ conception.
“Such a good girl, Perla. Ride me just like that.” She doesn’t need the instruction, but I like giving her commands and watching her submit.
My wife rolls her hips where she sits perched on my lap. Just as I predicted the day I knocked her up the first time, her body has learned to take all of me. Now, she grinds on my shaft until her mound is flush to my groin and she can get the exact pressure she likes on that greedy clit.
“You’re not the boss of me, Goliath! Come on. You know what I need. Do the thing. Hurry before the babies wake up from their naps.” She’s every bit as fierce and demanding as she was the day she insisted on watching me kill her stalker. Only now, the demand is much, much sweeter.
I crane my neck as she presents her milky, fat tit for me to suckle while she rides my cock. I had no idea when I bred her how much we’d both love it when her milk leaks from these bountiful breasts, but neither of us can get enough.
