Chapter Fourteen

MORGAN

" F avorite ice cream flavor?"

Scarlett's giggle is officially one of my new favorite sounds in the entire fucking universe, second only to her screams of pleasure. I've spent a long time in this world and never once have I felt so completely enraptured by a simple conversation with another person. It's like all the light in the room emanates from her smile. I can't seem to pull away from her brightness, it draws me into her orbit too deeply.

Scarlett thinks for a long moment before deciding. "Mint chocolate chip is probably my favorite. Crunching the chips between your back teeth while letting the cool mint melt and tingle on your tongue is fun."

She might like a little sensation play. Keeping that little piece of information for a rainy day.

The thought strikes me like a fucking bullet to the gut— I'm keeping her . There's no part of me that thinks this is just until I get my thirteenth victim and leave this town. If I leave, I'm taking her. If Scarlett wants to stay, I will find a way to stay. She is mine and I'm not fucking letting her go.

I've had playthings over the years. Temporary bodies to fill my bed and keep my pussy sated between victims. Some have been beautiful and exotic women, others handsome and strong men. I only suck from pieces of shit, so those who have a pure soul are safe from the demon within me. I've enjoyed each of them. One particularly handsome Spanish male warmed my bed for roughly a decade, off and on, before I finally had to leave Europe and leave him behind. He never once asked how I never aged a day and he never asked for more than a night of passion. He was almost perfect. But never, not in the centuries that I've walked this Earth, has a creature called to me as Scarlett does. It's as though the soul I once had was destined to be hers. And now that I've finally found her, I'm not letting her get away. I want to own every single piece of her—every breath she takes, every pumping ounce of blood in her veins, every hope and wish that crosses her mind, all of her needs to be mine. I want to consume every ounce of her until there ceases to be her and me, and there is just us .

"What's yours?" she asks, her cute little fingers skating across the bare skin of my arm.

"What?" My thoughts drifted too far away. I lost track of the conversation while staring at her delicate curves barely covered by the loose sheet and thinking of how to keep her.

She giggles again. Fuck , that sound does things to me.

"What's your favorite ice cream flavor? I told you mine, now it's your turn." She playfully swats at my arm. The urge to grab her wrists, pin her down, and lick her delicious cunt until she comes on my face again is almost overwhelming. But, I should probably give her a break…for now.

"Strawberry."

"Strawberry?" she asks incredulously. Her eyes go wide and a smirk pulls at the corners of her mouth.

"Yeah. What's wrong with strawberry?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, it's just so… normal . It's just, like, boring and sweet and you're so…not." She giggles again.

This sweet seductress with her cute little laugh will be my ruin.

I roll on top of her, pinning her arms above her head, both wrists in one of my hands. The look of shock on her face is intoxicating. If I could keep her tied up between my thighs for the rest of eternity, I would.

"Say strawberry is boring again," I challenge in the deep and commanding tone that I know makes her pretty pussy weep for me.

She cocks an eyebrow at me. Rolling her lips as if thinking through her options. "Strawberry is a boring as fuck favorite ice cream flavor."

Brat .

I dive in. I use my free hand to poke at her ribs, tickling the shit out of her. She giggles and wheezes, bucking her hips to try to displace me and get free, but I have her trapped. She squirms and squeals as I pepper her with kisses and tickling touches.

"Stop! Stop!" she finally chokes out between laughs. I pull back to look at her and am caught off guard by the depths of her eyes. The browns of her irises are streaked with flecks of warm gold that shimmer in the light. Just like the rest of her—her eyes are a little darkness and a little light.

After a beat she finally smiles at me, illuminating the dark caverns of my Hell stained soul with her warmth. "I like you."

I smile in return. "Good, I'd hope so after you let me lick that sweet little cunt repeatedly." I raise an eyebrow at her.

"No I'm serious," she turns her gaze down and sinks her teeth into her lower lip. I want to rip that plump lip from under her own teeth and bite down on it. I don't like that she's being shy with me. I want her to always be comfortable. I rub my palms softly up and down her arms, comforting her. After our fabulous fucking session, she put her underwear back on but nothing else, and now I can see her nipples start to stiffen beneath the light fabric of the sheet. "I really like you."

"I like you too, princess."

In fact, I'm falling for you.

The words are on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell her that she's snaked her way into the empty pit where my soul once lived and found a part of me that I thought had been lost long ago.

"Can I ask you something kind of personal?" She changes the subject quickly, saving us from a conversation that maybe we're both not ready to have yet.

"Define ‘kind of personal' and maybe I'll think about answering."

She rolls her eyes at me, a smile tugging her perfect little pout.

I'm going to have to tame my little brat.

"What's your question, princess?"

She rakes her teeth across her bottom lip clearly considering whether or not she actually wants to ask. She's so fucking cute. "What do you do ?"

"You mean, besides you?"

"Stop!" She playfully slaps my arm. "I mean, what do you do for work? This hotel, the room service, the closet full of designer clothes. All those things are expensive. I was just curious."

"There are some people willing to pay a lot of money to find out just how faithful their spouse is or isn't. I help them. They pay me well for the information I'm able to provide them."

"So you're like a private investigator?"

"Something like that, princess. I'm compensated well, even if the news I deliver isn't exactly what my clients were hoping for. And there are some people I work for, who pay extra for some extra services."

Like disposing of their unfaithful dickhead husbands.

Sometimes my victims find me, like Kyle. Assholes that the universe seems to throw my way in order to rid the earth of their miserable existence. Other times I'm paid to take care of a man, make him disappear for a lover who's been wronged. The paid jobs keep me living very comfortably. And, as long as I keep moving from town to town, place to place, no one ever tracks the mysterious murders back to me.

I expect her to ask questions, to try to pry the lid off of Pandora's Box and bring all my Hellish truths to the surface, but instead a yawn escapes her perfectly rounded lips. Her yawns are cute. They make her forehead crinkle in a way that makes my stomach flutter. Sensing the shift in mood, the giant orange fur ball leaps to her lap. He prances around her upper thighs, tail held high, clearly indicating that I will not, in fact, be getting any more action tonight. He finally settles, curling up into a ball on her stomach and purring loudly. If I wasn't so impressed with his need to protect my precious princess, I'd be more annoyed with him.

"Are you tired?" I ask, pushing a raven lock off her cheek, and tucking it behind her ear. She has tiny, red, heart gems in her ears. The glimmering red stones match her beautiful ruby lips. "I can turn off the lights, move to the second bed, and we can go to sleep if you want?"

Her hand immediately shoots out to grab mine, her eyes flying open. "Please, stay in bed with me?" There's such vulnerability in her voice that it almost pains me. "I hate sleeping alone."

I squeeze her hand tightly, letting my other hand slide down her cheek to cup her jaw, tilting her face up to mine. My thumb tenderly strokes the pale flesh of her face. Her skin is soft and pristine and perfect. Her eyes scan mine, searching for something. It's been so long since I've been the one another reached out to for comfort. The feeling is uncomfortable and scary and somehow welcomed somewhere deep down. I lean in and lay my lips softly against hers, trying to portray my willingness to be her comfort in the way my mouth molds against hers. Her lips push back against mine. A soft sigh leaves her and breathes life into me. It's tender and vulnerable. A kiss full of things left unsaid.

"I'm not going to leave you, princess," I whisper as our kiss comes to an end. "I'll be right here."

She squeezes my hand back, saying what she needs without saying anything at all. Our fingers interlock and she settles in, holding on to me tightly. She feels so small, so delicate, so breakable. So entirely mine .

"How about a movie?"

A smile pulls at the corners of my lips. Snuggling with my girl, and I guess also her cat, sounds like the perfect way to spend an evening.

"You pick the movie, I'll order some dessert," I tell her, hopping out of the bed to dial room service.

"Grab me something chocolatey!" Scarlett hollers at me as she grabs the remote. "Are you good with a scary movie? Maybe Scream or something?"

Turning, I give her a smile. "You're so fucking perfect, princess."

The brunette runs quickly into the room, slamming the door behind her. Shelves crash as she stumbles and tries to right herself. Her breathing is labored, her hair whipping across her face as she searches for the intruder behind her. An eerie silence falls across the room. An atmosphere of impending doom creeps like fog across the screen.

Her shrill shrieks pierce the silence as the Ghostface killer pops up into the window, brandishing a bloodied knife. The black and white mask is emotionless, haunting. Humans rely entirely on facial expressions to read emotions, without them they are lost. Being unable to gauge the emotional response of the person in front of you is the unnerving element of the masked murderer. It's not the mask that scares them, but the lack of being able to understand the person beneath. The brunette screams, shaking her head in horror as the masked man bangs on the glass, desperate to get to her. No facial expressions needed to understand the message he's trying to send her. She's locked in, his perfect prey, destined to find her demise at the end of his blade.

Next to me, Scarlett softly snores through the horror illuminating the darkened room. After eating our fill of chocolate cake and ice cream, with me licking some of the melted sweetness off her while she enjoyed her snack, we snuggled up to watch the movie. She fell asleep almost immediately.

I've barely watched a moment of the film, too enamored with her to look away for more than a few seconds. The soft rise and fall of her chest while she peacefully sleeps is the most comforting thing I've ever felt. Her fingers entwined with mine, grounding me here in the now, fills me with more peace and security than I've felt in a very long time…maybe ever. I could lay here watching her sleep for eternity and not regret a single moment of that time spent with her.

I've been tempted, more than once, to enter her dreams and fuck her senseless. Each time her eyelids flicker, the demon inside me whispers deliciously decadent fantasies I could use to bring her to completion in utterly deplorable ways within her dream space. But I resist. She's been through a lot recently. She needs the rest.

Samson has barely left her side, except to down a little water. He pretends to be asleep but I see him peek a slanted eye open every so often, scanning for anything out of the normal. He's an unusual cat. He seems very attached to my girl. Me, however, he's still on the fence about.

A sudden sharp noise pulls my attention from the sleeping beauty lying next to me. A glow emanates from the bedside table next to her. Her phone .

I should leave it be. It's her business. No one likes a nosey and jealous girlfriend…

Fuck it. I'm a jealous and possessive bitch. She fell for me this way, so this is the me she's getting.

Carefully disentangling myself from her, I slip from underneath the blanket. As quietly as I can, I round the bed to inspect her phone.

KYLE: Hey. We need to talk. Carnival in 20 minutes. I don't give a shit about what you're doing. Be there or else.

This motherfucker.

An idea suddenly strikes me. I really don't want to leave my girl, but when an opportunity presents itself, only a fool ignores fate.

SCARLETT: I'll be there.

Shooting off the text to Kyle, I move over to the wardrobe. I dress as quietly as I can, careful not to wake my girl. I promised her I wouldn't leave her. I gave her my word that I would stay by her side. Guilt coils through my core. It's a feeling I haven't felt in a very long time. I don't have a soul, I'm not supposed to feel these types of things. And yet, the nagging sensation of worry pulses through me. I don't want to leave her, but time is running out. If I don't find my thirteenth victim soon, there will be no more nights with her in our future at all. But, if my plan works how I hope it will, she will still be sleeping peacefully when I return and all our problems will be dealt with. I can whisk her away from this shitty town and give her the life she deserves. I want to give her the world, but first I have to deal with her ex.

With a final look back at my beautiful girl, I exit the door to find Kyle.