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“Do I ever listen? Riddle me that, DocMcstuffins.” I giggle. Jameson’s full-on belly laughs, taking a sip of his bourbon and relaxing against the chair, listening to our banter.
“Lay back, Jade, and keep your mouth shut, Babygirl, or I will fill it and not with any of our cocks.
Promises, Promises.
27
The Carver
-Jameson-
I’m getting annoyed at watching Spade cleaning all her wounds. It’s sick, my obsession with blood, and it’s even sicker that her blood tastes like sugar plums and the sweetest forbidden fruit. I can’t get enough. The need to see her constantly dripping will be a problem.
“Not for long, Jameson.”
“Not for long.”
“Soon, if you don’t fail.”
My fingers twitch, missing my knife. Annoyed that I cut her up with her knife and not mine, but mine, I left it on my bike. Wanting to carve her up more is extremely overwhelming.
“Go ahead.”
“Go get your knife.”
“Carve her like a Thanksgiving turkey.”
The voices taunt me. This is why I don’t get close to women. Every woman who’s ever been in my life dies, and most of them are dead because of me, because of the voices that egg me on. I’m a product of what my father created—a monster. Amelia is the only girl the voices liked even though there was no sexual attraction to her; they only accepted her, but now she’s dead, just not by my doing.
Shaking my head, I take another sip of my bourbon and walk over to the Siren calling me. Her green eyes collide with mine, and my fist tightens. I want to cut her eyeballs out and keep them on my bedside table for the rest of eternity.
“I don’t think you understand what you got yourself into with us.”
Spade says nothing, but of course, the little twat opens her mouth.
“I’m a big girl; I can take it!” She smirks. I nod, knowing it’s bullshit. On the street, they call me “The Carver,” but not even my father knows his true identity of him. Just that piece of information alone makes me smirk. Unfortunately, at this time, I don’t trust her enough to reveal my alter ego, so I’ll keep that to myself.
I down the rest of my bourbon, contemplating whether I should return to the dorms or give her what she desperately wants. Spade finishes disinfecting her, and while I was too busy in my own head, he’s currently on his knees eating her cunt. Her moans alone make my decisions for me. I get up from the chair I was sitting in and make my way over to them.God, she is gorgeous. Legs open, head thrown back, moaning. Her pierced nipples hard through the light pink tank top she’s wearing.
“Where’s your knife, Jameson?”
“Cut her tits, suck on her nipples and cut them off.”
“Don’t fuck her Jameson!”
“It’s sick.”
“Your dick shouldn’t be hard for her.”
“You’re sick, Jameson! Father is right.”
Shaking my head, I step behind Spade, my hands gripping her thighs tightly. She looks at me with hooded eyes; that green shines so bright.
Her legs tremble under my touch. Removing my hand, I shove Spade’s face deeper into her cunt, suffocating him with her arousal. She gasps and shudders at the pressure on her needy clit.
“You like that, Princess? We could kill Spade right here right now by suffocating on this wet cunt.” Her eyes narrow, but she moans loudly. She placed her hand on mine, applying more pressure to Spade’s head, grinding against his face.
“Fuck Spade, Eat that…fuck,” she moans out. Grinding harder.
