20. CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Tyler

M y fingers rub the spot on my jaw where Dahlia punched me.

Twice.

The first blow shocked me.

The second hurt. But not as much as it turned me on. My cock thickened and was desperate to push inside her. Get lost inside her. Make her hurt until she cries. Make her bandaged fingers bleed again for me.

I fucking love her tears. Her blood. The essence of her.

Twisted, kinky girl.

By the time adrenaline kicked in, I was too late. The lock to Sweet DeNights clicked. Dahlia and I had a barrier between us.

Me and my Dahlia.

All day long, I couldn't get her off my mind. The pressure in my jeans and in my head became almost unbearable .

Her pussy locked tight inside the chastity belt. Her wetness soaks the metal. I was beyond possessed. I was ill and Dahlia was my disease. One I never wanted to get rid of.

The fact that she had someone out back didn't mean shit to me. I had zero desire to stop her from killing a man.

All I wanted was her. That was why I looked and felt like a madman by the time I got here.

Like I told her, I had to have her. Plain and simple. Look at her pretty little pussy in the jail I put it in. Torture her. Edge her. Make her beg me to leave it on and take it off so I can fuck her at the same time.

She's going to be punished for leaving me outside.

Her adorable fists to my face would be nothing compared to what I have planned for her.

Dahlia gave me two hours to wait for her, and I use them to the fullest. There's a shop that closes at midnight, so I go there, shop for things I'll need for my creative punishment. Once it's stuffed in the shoulder bag, I'm back to Sweet DeNights.

When I pull out my phone to put it on mute, a notification pops up.

Someone commented on my FyndUsHere Killer blog post.

You stopped me once, CT. It'll be the last time you stopped anyone.

My biceps flex at the challenge. My heart rate picks up.

Firewalls and IP addresses hide my identity, but I won't put it past anyone to tear those down.

"I'd like to see you try." I shrug. Pocket my phone .

Tonight isn't about him. The moment I focus on him, Dahlia will see it on my face. She'll start asking questions. We'll have to discuss heavy shit tonight, and I'm not here for that.

I'm here to protect her from anything and everything. I'm here to shield her against the FyndUsHere Killer in case he's gotten too close.

More than anything, I'm here to play with that sexy-as-fuck chastity belt I put on her.

We'll have days and years of discussing the people whose lives I ended. The secret ways she makes people vanish.

Tonight isn't one of those.

Tonight is—

A strange feeling sucks me out of my thoughts. The hair at the back of my neck stands on end. Every muscle in my body strains. Trained and on guard.

Set to do some damage in case he's here. If he's come for my Dahlia, I swear to Christ I'll rip him apart piece by piece.

For that to happen, I have to find him first. I push off the wall, my gaze darting all over the street. Searching for the man or woman who promised my days as a sleuth—and on this planet—are over.

Sounds of yapping, happy dogs echo from somewhere nearby. An auburn-haired woman in an oversized trench coat and sneakers crosses the road to my left. I study her face closely as she nears me, but she couldn't care less. She brushes past me, disappearing into a dark alleyway.

She's not here to kill me. She wouldn't hurt my little savage .

"Boo!" As if summoned by my thoughts, Dahlia's arms swing to my front from behind me. Her legs wrap around my waist, her chin digs into my shoulder.

I smile. I fucking smile, reaching back to grasp her beautiful, homicidal palms.

"You're here, Ty." The joy in her voice plays games with my head. Softens me. "You're really here."

She presses to my body harder, and motherfucker. Yes. The metal of the belt.

That's what I've dreamed of all day long. And it's not enough. It's not scratching the surface of my most depraved desires.

So I change my grip, digging my fingers into her thighs. When she's closer like that, I feel more of her "cage," as she called it. More metal.

More Dahlia.

She can feel more of me, too. Do more. Which she does. This feral woman tugs at my hoodie, ripping it off. Nipping at my throat and licking my ear.

We're almost like any other normal couple.

Except we aren't.

Plus, there's a price to pay for punching me. For kicking me out.

A sexy price.

"Sneaky little thing. I said I'd walk you home. Of course I'm here." I push her off me and whip around to face her. "Ready to face the consequences for what you did?"

"Who? Me?" She bats her eyelashes, the corners of her freshly painted lips tipping up. "By the way, how's your jaw? "

"The mouth on you." My fingers are on her chin, squeezing it. Lifting it higher until she's watching me tower over her. "You're going to cry when I tame you tonight?"

"Out here?" Her raised eyebrow is a challenge. One she doesn't know I accepted over two hours ago. "I'm pretty sure there are laws against public indecency. You can't just… What did you have in mind? No, don't tell me, I want to guess."

Dahlia's ramblings are the cutest thing ever. I've missed those.

And I use them to my advantage. She does a great job of distracting herself while I slip a hand into my hoodie pocket. My fingers wrap around the wet cloth I soaked five minutes ago.

"A fitting punishment for punching your jaw would be…" Her hand lifts to where she struck me. Her touch is strangely soft. A caress, really. "Shoving my jeans down my legs. Using a taser on my chastity belt. I bet that'd hurt like a motherfucker. I'd take it for you."

She leans in closer. Pushing against my hold on her chin. Daring me.

I remove the chloroform-soaked cloth from my pocket.

"But what if a police car drove by?" she whispers, seductive as fucking hell. "They'd arrest us for public indecency."

"No one's going to take either of us anywhere." I tighten my grip on her. "Want to guess why, pretty girl?"

"Because I'm yours?" She's breathless. Breathtaking.

"Close." In one smooth move, I push her back to the wall of the building, locking her in place .

"Well?"

"Because we're not staying here."

"Where are we going?" Her pupils are dilated, what little is left of her blues gleaming in the darkness of the night.

"You'll find out…"

The cloth is on her mouth. Hand on the back of her head to keep her still.

"Ty!" she mumbles.

More pressure. Can't let her get away. My Dahlia needs it as much as I do.

"Once you're awake again. You'll know then." Fuck, her thrashing makes me so hard. "See you soon, little savage."

Subduing her takes longer than I expected. Some of the chloroform must've evaporated while I've been waiting here. Doesn't matter. I'll wait until what little drug is left will soak in her body.

Not to mention that having her scream for me is hot as all fuck.

But as much as I enjoy this, she was right. We might get caught.

I move her forward, forcing her to move backward until her back hits the wall. With my knee to her caged pussy, I lock her in place. Hold her steady so every drop of the drug would soak into her system.

"I love you," I say. "I love you, Dahlia."

That's the truth. A painful one. One that I always feared would ruin us. Ruin her .

Admitting to it is the equivalent of pulling out a rusty nail from my chest, then picking at the puss it's left behind. It hurts like a motherfucker. It won't do us any good.

It has to be done anyway. "I love you so much it hurts."

Dahlia tries to bite my palm through the cloth. Steps on my boot.

Little by little, though, the fight bleeds away from her. I suspect my words have something to do with it. The chloroform definitely does.

"Doesn't change the fact you're getting punished for hiding shit from me." I have a hand on her tit, twisting it in my palm. She doesn't know it yet, but it's where I plan to mark her. "For punching me. Twice."

That part I liked. Fucking loved, though she won't hear it until later. When she's conscious again, I'll tell her just how her knuckles against my jaw made me throb. Made me lose my goddamn mind.

She whimpers, her droopy eyes still brimming with questions.

As much as I try to hide it, I'm sure mine bear some answers.

Like how this isn't a real punishment. Not at all.

Tonight, I'm giving her what she's been asking for.

I'm marking her. I'm claiming her.

I'm giving the universe and my anxiety the biggest middle finger.

I'm making her mine.