37. Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Six

Vincent

I t’s an hour or so before sunrise when I make it back to Salem, driving straight over to Skyla’s house. I didn’t even stop off at one of my properties for a change of clothes. As soon as I turned eighteen, I began buying up property all over the world. Some in my name…most not. Like fuck was I ever going to stay on campus willingly.

I need to see her, though. I feel like my flesh is about to literally crawl off my body. Two weeks…it might as well have been two years. I refuse to be gone from her for this long again. Next time, she’s coming with me. I don’t give a fuck what anyone says about it.

There were several people of interest I was sent to investigate overseas. A majority of the time I was in Monaco, France and two days in Spain. All points of interest were eliminated days ago, but Christopher forced me to stay put to let the heat die down first. It made no sense other than he didn’t want me in Salem. Which I don’t like one fucking bit. The calculated motherfucker has to be up to something.

I forget all about that in one breath. As soon as I set eyes on my siren, it all floats away. I sneak through her balcony doors like usual, though I could technically use the key from the front door. I like it better this way. She is the person I want to see first, not some fucker downstairs with his hands down his pants.

She’s sleeping heavily, her chest slowly moving up and down, her breathing virtually silent. I’m surprised she’s alone. With four other boyfriends, it’s a rarity to ever get alone time with her, and for her to sleep alone? An extinct concept, or so I thought.

As her eyelids flicker, I curl myself around her, gently stroking my hands through her hair as she dreams. I hope it’s a beautiful one. One where she is in the water, getting lost in how long she’s been in with no sign of getting out. I hope in her dreams I’m there, always within arms reach. I hope that we’re away from Salem for good, and I hope the Brethren is burned to a crisp at her hands like the queen she truly is.

I purposefully drag my fingers a little close to her face, startling her awake. Those bright green orbs flash to me, filled with alarm before recognition flickers in them and they soften.

“Vincent?” she whispers softly.

I nod as I continue running my fingers through her hair. I don’t get the chance to finish my movement before she is on top of me. Her mouth presses to mine before frantic kisses are spread across my face and down my neck. I arch into her touch, letting out a soft groan as I lift my hips and grind my rock hard cock against her thigh. I’ve been hard since I first saw her laying here, and touching her only made that problem worse.

She grabs the waistband of her shorts, sliding them down and off her legs as she grabs my jeans, beginning to unbutton them.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she whines. “I need you.”

“I’m all yours,” I say as I let her take the wheel.

Her hand slips inside my pants, pulling out my cock. Her breath catches softly, and I know that she found her surprise.

“What—”

“Do you like it?” I ask.

Her eyes stare down at my cock, seemingly in awe. The intricate design of a siren is wrapped around it, her name scribed up the tail that stretches all the way down to the base.

“You tattooed your cock, for me?” she asks, seemingly stunned.

I frown at her. I’m not sure why she’s surprised. As if there was anything in this world that I wouldn’t do for her. I would have had the guy cut out my goddamn heart and tattoo her name on it if I thought it would bring a smile to her face.

“Of course. It’s yours.”

She frowns, shaking her head in disbelief. “I just…didn’t that hurt?”

“No.”

Yes, like a motherfucker. I don’t want her to know that, though. She’d get all sad and sympathetic, and that’s not what this moment is supposed to be about.

When she looks up at me again, her frown is gone but replaced by two glossy eyes, brimming with tears that are about to fall.

“Why is this the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me?” she asks on a choked sob.

“Shhh,” I hush. “Don’t cry, siren. Just come here. Come ride your cock.”

She looks at me and nods, straddling me before slowly sinking herself down. When she’s seated, we both let out a moan. Goddamnit, I’ve missed this. Missed her. I haven’t been able to even jerk off since I got this thing, trying to let it heal. I knew it was the perfect time to do it, because there was no time ever again that I was going to go without having my siren for over two weeks.

As she lifts up, I see her look down, watching me sliding in and out of her wet cunt. She throws back her head and cries out.

“Oh my God. That is so fucking hot.”

“Yes, you are, siren. Fuck me like you missed me.”

Her hips begin gyrating, and I hold onto her tightly as I help guide her. I feel her hand reach back, cupping my balls as she begins massaging them. Another shock of pleasure runs through me at the feeling and I begin thrusting harder to compensate.

“Fuck,” I grumble.

“Am I doing okay?” she asks, like the silly girl needs to ask.

“You do more than okay from just fucking breathing, siren. Do you have any goddamn idea how much I used to watch you before? How often I’d jerk off just to the sight of you?”

She scrunches up her nose as her thrusts slow.

“Like, stand around a corner and stroke your cock.”

“Fuck yes,” I agree.

She shakes her head as her pace continues.

“What the fuck is wrong with me, why do I find that so hot?”

“Because, you were made for me,” I say as I smack her ass cheek, encouraging her to go faster.

She obeys me immediately, bouncing on me so quickly that her tits begin smacking each other. I raise my tattooed hands, lifting her sleep shirt up and over her head before throwing it to the other side of the room. My hands come to cover her tits, squeezing as my thumbs play with her nipples.

They are instantly hard for me, the sweetest shade of pink, and I pull her towards me, dragging one of her nipples into my mouth. My tongue swirls around the hardened peak and Skyla moans in response.

“More,” she begs.

I obey her instantly, I always will.

My mouth moves to her other nipple, sucking and nipping at that one as I continue tugging on the other with my fingers. She’s so pliable for me, so willing, and the fact that she likes a little pain with her pleasure? It makes her fucking perfect for me.

“Cut me, Vincent,” she whimpers.

My eyes meet hers, mouth still latched around her as she moans.

“Use me, make me bleed. Make me come like only you know how to.”

One of my hands drops to my jeans, fumbling around for the switchblade I always keep on me as I pull it out. I haven’t used it since I cleaned it, so it’s safe to use on her. And when she begs me so beautifully, how can I say anything but no?

“Where?” I ask.

“Wherever you want. Mark me, make me yours.”

“You’ve always been mine, siren. Always.”

I start with a small slit on her upper left thigh. Her thrusts have stopped as she sits there with bated breath as I drag the tip of the knife against her fleshy skin. Her teeth sink into her lip like she’s hurting, but the lust drunk look in her eyes tells me she’s as addicted to receiving the pain as I am to giving it.

A thin red line blooms in the wake of my knife before I pause and move to the other thigh. I repeat the motion, and this time, a choked cry escapes her. My eyes glance to hers in warning. I’ll stop if she needs me to, but my cock is fucking pulsing inside of her from this act of trust, of obedience. It has me ready to come and fucking hard.

Twin trails of blood begin running down her thighs as I toss the knife to the side. I can’t stop myself from playing with it. My fingers smear the blood against her perfect creamy thighs, marring the flawless skin with that deep, inky red. My fingers rub against it more and more until the tips are completely covered. I suck them into my mouth, relishing the taste of her as I begin thrusting.

She whimpers, but begins bouncing, her eyes on me as she watches me closely. When I’ve sucked my fingers clean, she grabs my hand, rubbing it against the other leg that has become wet, smearing blood all over my fingers once more before shoving them back in my mouth.

I can’t help but moan around my fingers, the taste of her almost better the second time. She groans and whimpers as she rides my cock, her pussy pulsing as I lick my fingers clean.

“You’re so fucking sick,” she moans.

“So are you, siren,” I counter.

“Fuck, yes, I am. Do it again, play with my blood like you like to,” she cries.

I rest my hands on her thighs, actually surprised when I feel my entire palms wet. She’s bleeding more than she should be, probably because she’s the one on top, flexing her legs. In a flash, I flip us, pinning her to her back as I lift one leg over my shoulder and fuck her raw and deep.

Her eyes roll into the back of her head as my hand comes to cover her mouth, pinning her to the mattress as I do.

“This what you want, siren? Want to be fucked hard by your man? Blood soaked and so fucking horny?” I ask as I slip my hand to her throat.

A bloody handprint covers her face. My bloody handprint. I don’t give a fuck what it says about me, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Hesitantly, she sticks her tongue out, running it along her bloodied lip. She pulls her tongue back in, tasting herself before she sticks it out again.

Eagerly, I shove a finger into her mouth, forcing her to suck her blood off my finger. As soon as her tongue wraps around my digit, that’s all I can handle. I lose it, lose my fucking vision, my mind. I lose everything as I fall over the edge, roaring out my release as my cum floods her.

Her pussy pulses around me, squeezing tight before she comes. Her whimpers are so loud, even around my finger, they still seem to shake the walls. Her pants are hurried and desperate as she moans and grinds against me, milking every ounce of her orgasm that she can before her body collapses in defeat, mine right there alongside her.

We lay there for a few seconds before I push myself to stand, lifting her into my arms and carrying her to the bathroom. I start up the shower and move us inside to the bench where the water can’t reach us yet. I sit there and hold her for several seconds, pressing a soft kiss against her shoulder as she sighs.

“I’ve really missed you.”

Moving some of her hair away from her neck as I place another kiss to her, I murmur against her skin.

“If I’d have had to suffer another day without you, I’d have gladly offed myself.”

She whips around to face me, disappointment in her eyes.

“Don’t joke like that.”

“I’m not joking. Being away from you…it was some of the worst torture I’ve ever endured.”

“Why did you have to be gone for so long?”

Wish I could tell you, still trying to figure that piece out myself.

“Work stuff. Why are you sleeping alone? Do I need to kill someone?”

She smiles sadly and shakes her head, probably thinking that I’m joking. I couldn’t be more serious, though. I don’t give a fuck who it is. If anyone ever inconveniences my siren, I’ll gladly slit their throat and present their severed head like a prize at my siren’s feet.

“Liam’s induction was last night, and…he’s not okay.”

I nod. I’d imagine not. I’ve already heard through the grapevine about Asher’s. Even I was surprised he was able to go through with it. He’s not soft like Liam, but he’s also not a desensitized killer like…well, me.

Liam though…he’s as squishy as they come. He wasn’t meant for this life, or at least, he doesn’t have what it takes. He’s still breathing, so clearly I underestimated him. He’ll probably never be okay again, though. That’s the point. If you kill for the Brethren, it is the ultimate ammunition to keep you subdued and subservient. You step a toe out of place, and if they don’t send an eliminator after you, they’ll send the police for your crimes. Blackmail at its finest.

“What about the others?” I ask.

She pauses for a moment, and it puts me on edge, like she’s choosing her words carefully. I don’t like that one bit.

“I was tired, sad for Liam. I just wanted to be alone.”

I narrow my eyes in suspicion, not believing what she has to say for a fucking second but allowing her to believe she’s fooled me. For now.

“And now?” I ask.

She smiles, leaning her head against my shoulder.

“Now, I never want you to let me go.”

“I never will, siren.”