21. CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY

Tyler

T he last time I heard the sound of a tattoo machine working was four years ago. After that first October without Dahlia.

Fury turned my vision black after I realized what she was doing.

She deserved a better life than this. Better than going down the path of violence her uncle had started. I hated myself for leaving her, for pushing her to do these things.

But then I imagined her there. A murderous queen. Blood on her hands. Her red grin growing wider with every kill.

The darkness in her spoke to the darkness in me. The violence in Dahlia nurtured the sickness in me.

I couldn't have her. Couldn't risk her life. That was a fact.

Except my obsession with her didn't care for facts. It never did .

In November of that year, I tattooed my version of my woman all over my back. The one I held back from showing her. The timing needed to be right.

This is it. Here, in my bed.

As soon as I'm done with this.

"You're a temptation." I rub a sterilized cloth over the top of her left breast. "The forbidden, poisoned fruit. My little savage. Christ, you look beautiful when you sleep. When you're helpless. When you're at my mercy."

Calm and angelic. That's what she is as I kiss the area around her freshly inked skin. She doesn't even stir when I bite the nipple below her new tattoo.

"Mine." The word isn't just something I say anymore. It isn't a claim on a woman I can never have.

This time, I mean it. As I stare down at the naked woman with her wrists bound and arms held over her head, I see it too.

Mine.

She isn't up yet, and I can't wait. Can't hold back and watch her.

She wanted this? To be mine? Well, she's getting it. Every depraved inch of me.

While she's breathing softly, I lick each of her nipples. Lie on top of her, feeling her warmth bleeding through her bare body and into my T-shirt and sweats I changed into.

With my hands around her face, I start dry fucking. I grunt and curse. Lick her lips, trailing kisses and biting the length of her neck.

The chastity belt isn't there anymore. It looked gorgeous on her. But nothing beats having her completely naked .

Exactly like I want her. Exactly like I'll have her for however long we have.

"Where…" Finally, her eyelids flutter. Her forehead scrunches.

She's awake.

I twist her nipple and pull, jolting her out of her drug-induced sleep.

"What the actual fuck?" Dahlia's fury spikes when she realizes her arms are stretched over her head, bound together with a zip tie.

It must be why the sting of the tattoo hasn't registered just yet.

"Morning, prisoner."

"Prisoner?" Her attempt at sounding angry falls flat. "Seriously? Oh, fuck, that's good."

My teeth clamp on her snake tattoo. I bite and suck on it, willing her scar to go away. Again. She groans, in part pleasure, part pain.

All mine.

I straighten my elbows to watch her face. What I get is her lifting her arms off the bed, her clamped hands about to hit me in the forehead.

"Little savage." My cock jerks a second before I catch her mid-flight and force her arms back down to the bed. Her cheeks flush, her lips pinch together. "Haven't you learned anything from this punishment?"

"I've learned that you get hard from kidnapping me."

Well, she's not wrong there .

"Did you rape me?" Frowning and snarling shouldn't look this good on anyone.

They do on her.

"If by rape, you mean pushed my cock in here." I lean to the side, dipping two fingers inside her wet pussy.

She clenches around me, her tight hold sending another shot of adrenaline into my blood. Any remnants of kindness flush out of my system in an instant. I'm going to hurt her. I'm going to traumatize her.

I'm going to love her the only way I can.

"I do." Another snarl.

"The answer is no."

"What did you do, then?"

One, two, three strokes, and two moans I drag out of Dahlia. I don't give her anymore, pulling my fingers out of her pussy and reaching for the scissors by the pillow.

"What did you do to me while I was asleep, Tyler?"

"I'm not a good person, Dahlia." The need to claim her nearly blinds me. I don't stop. "Not even close."

The scowl on her lips softens. "Tyler, neither am—"

"Quiet." I crush my lips to hers while cutting off the zip tie around her wrists.

I refuse to hear her confession. This isn't the time. It'll wake the compassionate side of me. The side who sees past the serial killer. The side who knows life fucked Dahlia over so badly, she had to turn to this. I don't want to feel sorry for her like this.

"You love me." Three words burst from her pretty, swollen lips. "You said you loved me. "

"I own you." The wall I put up between us infuriates me. I need it gone. I need her. "Dahlia, if we're together, bad things will happen." I know what I must sound like. A broken record. A broken man. "I'll protect you as much as I can. But nothing good is waiting for us on the other side of this."

"I didn't ask for good things, Ty. All I've ever wanted was you." She arches her back. The wince I've been expecting twists her expression into a pained one. "What—what's that? You cut my chest?"

"Listen, first." Her gaze darts lower. I block her view by pinning my upper body to hers.

"No." She wriggles and fights me with everything she's got. "Let me see."

"Listen to me," I thunder.

The cloud of insane rage isn't there. This explosive emotion is lust. Want. A necessity. I'm suffocating with it.

My face hovers inches from Dahlia's. My cock is hard, pushing harder into the soft space between her legs. Even through my sweats.

"I love you, too," she whispers.

Blood rushes between my ears. This is nothing new. She said those words while I was her guardian. She told me she was going to be my girlfriend.

And yet here, in my apartment, four years after we lost everything, they hit differently.

"I killed people." I didn't mean to sound soft, but fuck, her raw honesty changes me .

She has to know who this person is she claims to love. Because while she kills them to heal herself, I kill them for fun. Sometimes I can't even control myself when I end their lives.

"I'm scarred. I'm fucked in the head." My confession doesn't rattle her. She just looks at me. "I kill people, do you hear? Bad people. Other serial killers."

"Who?"

Out of all the questions in the world, she asks me this.

"The names are not important. Some murders happened in a haze. I'm aware that I stalk them and kill them, but sometimes, it's like I'm a spectator. Either way, I'm happy about it. As fucked as it is, I'm satisfied."

Another second of looking into her wide eyes, and I'll start coddling her. I might even regret marking her while she slept. I go lower down her body, parting my lips over her snake tattoo and bite.

"One." Her breath flutters on my neck. When she doesn't finish the sentence, I'm compelled to meet her eyes. They're demanding. Curious. She's sick like me, and I love that about her. "One of them you do remember. Tell me."

"The last one was shorter than me, but bulkier. Stan. He killed three tourists between last Christmas and New Year's." I curl my hand around her neck, rubbing her jaw with my thumb. "The police didn't have any leads. Three people were seen leaving the same bar on different occasions and disappeared. Their family and friends hadn't heard from them. No one's seen them. Gone."

The memories of the case turn me on. The hunt, chasing their murderer. The rightness of it, combined with Dahlia's legs around my waist, is intoxicating. I can't take another breath without being inside her.

Without freeing her wrists, I pull my dick out and push into Dahlia.

"Oh, fuck," I groan, pressing my forehead to hers.

My cock stretches her tight cunt, and she winces the first few thrusts. Both my hands slip low. One to her throat, the other to the mattress next to her. She doesn't look down, though, at the soreness in her breast.

She looks at me. At my strained face as I drag my cock in and out of her. While I make her scream for me.

"And?" She tries to keep her voice level. To hide her moan. And fails. "What happened?"

"Good girl." I pound into her, each thrust a punishment. "Good fucking girl for not moving your arms, Dahlia."

"Tell me."

"You tell me, Dahlia. Does your chest still sting?"

"Just the right kind of pa—" She rolls her eyes when I hit that spot. "Yes. Yes, yes. Now you."

She's as turned on as I get when I imagine her covered in other people's blood. Every muscle in my body works to fuck her. I'm hurting her. Loving her. I'm hers.

"When I got there, he was roofying his fourth victim's cocktail. She was in the bathroom. I lied and told him she bailed on him, that she's just out back and waiting for—Jesus, Dahlia."

Her pussy clenches around me. Her lips are round and she can hardly breathe .

This orgasm isn't just from my cock slamming into her. It's more than my groin rubbing on her sensitive clit. It's my story.

I'm irrationally angry. I'm balls deep inside her, my fingers bruising her slender throat, but I'm mad. She was such a happy girl once. She shouldn't reach her climax from this . I didn't want it to happen, but here we fucking are.

And I won't take it out on her.

It costs me to lock my anger up in a box. Stowing it away takes a toll on my sanity. Then I look at her—eyes glazed, little fangs peeking from parted lips—and I can do it. I can do anything for her. I will do anything for her.

"You're such a good girl. Coming on my cock like that," I talk her through her orgasm. I fuck her through her orgasm. "Squeezing my cock dry. You want to have my baby, don't you, little savage?"

" Need ," she moans, locking my cock in a vise grip. "Need to have your babies, Ty."

"Yours." This is so wrong. This is everything that's right in this world. "You'll get everything. Skin me, rip my goddamn heart out. It's all yours."

I'm down on my forearms. So close to her, right in her face, and she's all I see. I'm all she'll ever have. This is how it'll be for us. Forever. Sick. Twisted. Obsessive to a fault.

We might …fuck, I don't know. Die from having too much sex, if that's even a thing. If it is, it could happen to us. No doubt about it.

But we'll be together .

Because if the four years of anger and fear have taught me anything, it's that some things are worse than death.

Living a life without Dahlia isn't a life worth living. It's fucking purgatory is what it is.

She gasps when I flip us over, when I sit against the headboard and glare at her.

"Mine?"

"Yours. Just not tonight. Now, take my clothes off."

She's so fucking eager—so fucking perfect—that she does just that.

Doesn't even peek at her breast.

As soon as I'm naked, she sits on top of me. Her pussy presses to my cock and I give her those few seconds to get off on it. I even grab her hips, thrusting her up and down my throbbing length.

My need for her is so fucking big that it's a third entity in this bedroom. I'm consumed by her. Lost to her.

"Down," I demand.

And Dahlia, out of all people, was made to do as I say. She crawls down my body, her nails clawing at the tops of my thighs.

I'm a sick, sadistic fuck. This isn't enough. I need to see the pain in her eyes.

It's an addiction. An affliction.

"Have no fucking doubt, Dahlia." I wind a fist in her hair, dragging her face to my cock. Holding her there, right over me. "You'll have my babies. Another day."

"Please. "

There's no confusion in her eyes when she looks at me. Only fire. Her nails slide down my abdomen, then resuming scratching my thighs.

"Tyler."

"I said I loved you. And I will breed you, Dahlia. You will bear my babies." My cock is slick with her arousal. I grab the base, aiming the tip at her seductive, pillowy lips. "Tonight, though, I'm going to own your mouth. You're going to swallow my cum. Every drop is going down your pretty little throat."

Her breathing grows labored the closer I bring her to my cock. Her eyelids are heavy. Lashes fluttering. Tears brim at the corners of her eyes from my relentless grip on her hair.

I shove her down on my dick. She gags and coughs, and I hold her there.

"You made a mess of my cock, little savage. Clean it up."

A growl reverberates in her throat. Her nails tear through the bandages as she scratches my thighs with more force. She's breaking skin. Beads of blood appear on my leg.

"Fuck, that's it."

I'm violating her mouth in the worst way. Harsh, quick strokes up and down my length. Causing her to choke. To cry. I don't even care that her teeth graze me in the process. I love the pain. Relish it. I'll take everything from her.

"Right there." I shove her head down, smirking at the new tears streaming down her cheeks. "Suck me, little savage. Fucking suck me."

The more of me she gets into her mouth, the more feral I become. I push her so low that her lips smash against my groin over and over. Her spit drips out of her mouth. Her gagging sounds are all I hear.

"Be a good girl and touch yourself." She's drooling, coughing. Letting me defile her. Yet asking her to masturbate is what turns her cheeks red. Goddamn adorable. "I'll—fuck, that's good—finish my story if you rub your sweet clit for me."

Her death grip on my right thigh is gone. She slides her hand between her thighs, her arm moving as she strokes herself.

"I wanted to kill him myself." This girl was a virgin last week. Now she's here, moaning on my cock, and I promised her I'd talk. Fuck. "He was eager. Followed me to the back, where I told him his victim was waiting. He offered to tag team her as a reward."

Dahlia's eyebrows dip low. Jealousy looks so pretty on her.

"There's been no one else. Ever since I became your"— motherfucker , it's hard to talk when I'm getting blown by the most perfect girl—"legal guardian, there's been no one. Let me finish."

She blinks once in agreement, her lips smiling around my cock. She does it despite how ruthlessly I'm fucking her mouth. How brutal I am when I take her.

"We were in the alley. Hidden from street cameras, I went after him. Three strikes to his heart. I didn't pull the knife out after the last hit. I slashed him down to his abdomen." Dahlia moans louder, her lips pressing on my cock. She likes what she hears. She's about to come again with my cock stuffing her mouth. "Had my gloves on. A baseball cap over my head. The murder weapon is locked in here, safe. That's the story."

Later, she'll tell me how she does it. Later .

At the present moment, she's coming. Her screams of pleasure make her choke harder on my cock. Gag louder. Her body quivers, and the tears keep coming. Keep rolling like pearly diamonds down her cheeks.

The shock on her face, though, that's what does me in.

"Relax your throat," I grunt out when I come. "Swallow, little savage."

My orgasm shoots deep inside her. I'm as aggressive as I'll ever be, holding her in place. But there's so much of it that some leaks out of her mouth.

Even when she coughs on my cock. Even when her nails drag down my abdomen as she wordlessly pleads with me to let her breathe. I don't ease up until I'm spent and done.

A smile curls her swollen, abused lips up. "That was—"

"Come here." I haul her to me by her arms. Hug her tight to my body.

Her gaze starts wandering lower.

"Stay still."

Her eyes are hungry and questioning. "I want to look."

"You'll see what I did to your breast when I allow it." I push two fingers into her mouth, gathering whatever's left of my cum.

"You're testing me." She gives me a tiny smirk.

"I'll make it worth your while."

Her skin is smooth, and I groan as I trail my fingers to her tits. Then I'm there, fingertips pressing to the top of her breast, and she grimaces. It has to sting .

"Keep those eyes on me. Let me own you." I rub my cum into her body, relentless and rough. "That's it. Good girl, Dahlia."

Her hot cheek melts into my palm. I drag her mouth to mine, dipping my lips to hers at the same time for a kiss. She tastes like me and of butterscotch and chocolate, and I lick her tongue, her lips, her teeth. I make these tastes mine.

Mine .

"I love you." Her hands are on my throat. Her fingers are sticky with my dried blood. "You drugged me and I love you even more. How'd that happen?"

We belong together. That's all there is to it. We belong together.

"Let me show you." One final playful tug on her hair, and I'm out of bed with her in my arms.

Her teeth nibble on my shoulder on our way to the bathroom. She's not done branding me, her lips closing on the wounded spot. She sucks my skin. Brands me almost like I branded her.

She has no idea.

"What's this?" I look at her, my tone teasing. She flutters her lashes, still sucking. My cock is hard all over again. "That's your way of asking to get fucked again, little savage?"

In the bathroom, I put her down then yank on her hair. For no other reason than because I get off on that.

"Maybe." Her eyes are fixed to mine. She's being obedient, waiting for me to tell her it's okay to check out her new tattoo. She's being deviant too, giving me what I need. Her hand curls around my thickening cock, and she strokes me. "Can we? "

If I ever lose her, I'll die. It'll be the end of me. Better yet, I'll jump headfirst into the depths of hell after her. I'll sell my soul to the devil if it gets down to that.

My fingers bite into her chin. I'm anything but subtle when I tip her head up, slanting my lips on hers. I kiss her. Devour her. Let my tongue run along the tips of her sharp teeth.

"Your pretty pussy will stretch for Daddy." We're breathing hard by the time I pull back. "It's a fucking promise. Later."

Her shoulders tense as soon as I grab them. Her lips pinch. "Why later?"

"I promised you to see, didn't I?"

"Yes." Then, "Ty, I've been thinking. Did you walk away because of Ian? Because you hated me for saving him?"

There's hurt and a hint of guilt in her eyes. I put those feelings there.

No one's ever witnessed this wounded side of her before, not even her brother. I'm sure of that. And it guts me. Splinters my heart into a million pieces.

I should've been clearer when I cut all ties to her.

I'm to blame for this. All me.

"Never. I'm sorry, Dahl. So fucking sorry that you passed even a single second thinking that."

"Not your fault." She gives me a shrug that's supposed to mean I'm fine when she absolutely isn't.

"I hated the universe. Our fate. You know this. You also know that I have been scared for your life ever since." I twist us to the mirror, standing between it and Dahlia. " Every second that we're together, I'm expecting a car crash. The ceiling collapsing over us. A stroke so violent that you'll be gone in a second. But you were right. You've always been right. Nothing will come between us ever again. My heart won't let it. No matter what, I won't let it. I'm sorry for taking so long. I'm sorry for leaving you. So incredibly sorry."

Apologies are more than a mixture of vowels and consonants. Apologies are actions.

One knee after the other, I fall to the floor before Dahlia. She doesn't look at her reflection in the mirror, though. Not at mine either. Her focus rests solely on my face. Her small hands cup my cheeks.

"There is such a thing as fate, that I'm sure of." I'm strong enough to keep her body upright while I pull one of her legs over my shoulder. Resilient enough to endure her death grip on my hair. "You and I, we were destined to meet each other. Destined to live and die together." I lick her swollen lips, her taut clit. Her arousal that drips on my chin. "It's fate that brought your family to live in our apartment building. That same fate…" I explain myself to her while taking short breathing breaks from sucking on her clit. She's still moaning for me when I do. "Did the rest. Fate drove your brother to the edge of his sanity and beyond. Fate made him slaughter everyone in the building for failing you two."

"Life will find a way to fuck us over again." The words are chopped as she moans and cries. "That's why you've been scared. I'm not angry. I could never be angry with you for hurting. I just missed you. It hurt how much I missed you. "

Her face is a mess. Tears and spit and cum, all proof that she's mine. Her pussy too. She clenches while I eat her out and talk against her sensitive skin.

"We'll have each other, Dahlia. No matter what."

"No matter what."

"Look in the mirror," I order.

She follows. Gazes up. First, her eyes zero in on her breast. On her tattoo that says Mine . She might have caught a glimpse of my back, but she hasn't looked . I'm positive she hasn't, that she's captivated by the new ink.

I don't mention it. Can't do anything but eat her out. Swirl my tongue around her clit. Flick it. Go fast, then slow, until she's trembling in my grasp. Until she's fucking my face and then she comes for me, cursing and moaning and looking deep into my eyes.

"Tyler." She's exhausted, I can tell. I tug on her hand to take her to bed when she stops me. Her chin is held high, shoulders pulled back. Proud despite being seconds from passing out. "You owe me. I get to tattoo you too."

"You already have."

"What?"

Releasing her is torture. It's a necessity. I disentangle my fingers from hers, turning from her.

Giving her the view of my back.

It's quiet for a while. I only hear her heartbeat.

Curious fingertips explore my shoulder blades where the large, black wings start. They slide down along my back. Both her hands splay on either side of my spine. Between them, there's the sword the woman on my back is wielding .

That she's wielding.

"Tyler." Her thumbs move higher, stopping right between my shoulder blades.

She sucks in a breath, holding completely still. I don't have to see what she sees to know what has her in a chokehold.

I'm the one who gave the tattoo artist a picture of her. I'm the one who told him to draw Dahlia's face under the dark hood of the angel of death on my back.

I did. Me. Her lover. Her admirer.

No words leave her. She needs to rest. She needs to be taken care of, and I can't stay here while she's running low on sleep. The month hasn't ended yet, and every second we're here is another that she doesn't sleep.

"Come here." I help her to the bed, kiss her hard and stalk to the bathroom.

Her pussy gets my full attention first. The warm washcloth at my side is used to wipe her clean. The monster inside me has gone to sleep for the night, and I'm being gentle. I'm being careful and attentive as I sterilize her tattoo and bandage it.

"You—I—" she starts. Doesn't finish, because my fingers rake into her hair, and I lick the words off her sweet lips.

"You should get some sleep." I'm postponing this conversation until tomorrow. For later. We've unraveled too much today. "I'll wake you at four. Not the alarm. Me."

Everything about Dahlia is soft as I tuck her in and follow her under the covers. Her body, her expression. Her hand on my cheek.

I cup her cheeks. "I'll see you at four, little savage."

"Yes. Four." She nods. "You strange man. See you at four. "

My lips are on her forehead, where I intend to leave them for the night.

"Hey, Ty?" Her whisper is so soft that I hardly hear it.

"Yeah?"

"You won't kill me ." Pause. "Right?"

"Hell will have to wait a little longer for you." With an arm around her back, I drag her until her front is flush against mine. "The only way you die is if I die, and then I'm dragging you there with me. I'm done staying away from you. Done keeping you at arm's length. You're mine. From now to eternity, Dahlia Valentine. You. Are. Mine."