Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

LYLA

N eo lifts me with the tip of his blade sunken into the crook of my throat, and an unwell part of me wants to purr.

Our job here is finished. The two problematic members of the Hatt family are dead, and it's time to move on.

Not before immersing in one another, however.

It's what we love about killing.

The way we fuck the racing pins and needles caused by murder out of our systems.

Once I'm standing, I wonder where he'll lead me.

Will he fuck me over the desk, splayed out over Carl's fingers? Or will he have me sit on Ada's lap where she's still bound and bleeding in the chair with her throat slit?

Instead, he turns me around.

My brain wars with confusion as he leads me down the hall and up the stairs.

"Open the door," he tells me, and his tone leaves little room for argument.

I do so, finding what's beyond it deranged, even for us.

"What the fuck?" I whisper, forgetting his knife at my neck as I look around the room.

It's as if time stood still in this room, the decor never evolving as the child who slept within aged.

"Ada's room. I thought you'd like it."

It's pink everywhere the eye can see. The bed has flowers on its print, and the edges are frilled with lace.

"Why would I like it?"

"Well, you will," he says.

"Why?" As he's taunting me, my center has begun to throb in time with my racing pulse. I press my thighs together to wane the weighty tension between them.

His lips skim my ear as he leans forward. He hovers there momentarily, a buzzing in my body that causing wetness to gather at my core and seep into my panties.

"Because I'm going to fuck you here. This room is the very picture of Ada's delusion. She remained his little girl, feeding off the sick thought of who she was to him as he sunk into her body. Who am I to you, stupid girl?"

"My husband," I whisper, turning my face into the sensation of his presence.

He rears his head back, not allowing my lips to connect with his, which only makes my cunt needier.

"What else?" he asks, teasing the tip of his blade between my breasts.

I don't know what answer he's looking for here, nor what he's playing at by having me in this time capsule of a bedroom, but I can't deny how hot my body feels.

My toes curl in my boots as he teases his tongue across my lips.

"Am I your master? Your creator?" he whispers .

A whimper escapes my mouth as the power of Neo Wade envelops me while chewing me like its last meal.

"Yes, sir," I answer before thinking otherwise.

I'd taunted him downstairs, but only to coax the harsher portion of the Butcher out to play.

He knows that.

Right?

A waver of nerves skitters through my stomach like rocks skipping the surface of still water.

"Bare. I want you fucking bare. Remove these clothes."

I hasten to do so, kicking off my boots and then tossing aside my shirt as I make a pile of discarded, bloody clothes on the floor.

We're being sloppy. We should be well on our way from the scene of our double murder downstairs, but I don't care.

I can't care.

Not when Neo drops the blade to the floor with a thump, only to find my hips and squeeze.

The feel of the pain against the building arousal in me has me moaning.

I don't care who finds me here in this room with blood all over my skin; I fucking need him.

"Neo," I whine.

"Stupid girl," he answers, his tone heavy with obscurity.

"Where is your gun?" he asks, and at first, I can't make sense of his question.

He bites my ear, giving me the slightest twinge of pain to grasp onto.

"On the floor," I answer.

"Get it for me. "

I drop to my knees and search the pile of my clothing before finding the Glock we'd brought but not used.

After all, bullets can be traced.

"Present it to me."

His command confuses and excites me as I fit the gun into my mouth and crawl it over to him before kneeling at his feet and presenting it to him with my head bowed.

"When you're a good girl for me, it makes me want to do dark shit, you know that?"

"Yes, sir," I answer, knowing not answering won't get me what I want.

The Butcher is out to play tonight, and fuck, how I've missed him.

"Get on the bed, on all fours. Let me see you," he says, a slight amount of gravel bleeding in his tone.

As I heed his order, I have a rumbling storm building in my body that only Neo can stave off. So, I know I need to be on my best behavior.

Or he'll ruin every single orgasm that tries to crest.

I get on all fours at the edge of the flowery bed, leaning down on my forearms and opening myself to him.

"Fuck, look at you," he hisses, the cold metal of the gun-running the torrid length of my slit.

"This cunt is so fucking pretty," he growls, crouching as he slips the tip of his tongue over my aching entrance.

I cry out, bowing back and opening to him.

"Such a greedy slut, per usual."

God, his mouth.

His words.

They light a fucking fire in me that only he can tamp.

I need him so badly that my body feels like it'll overheat at any moment. I keep my mouth shut, however. I don't know what he'll do if I beg .

Nor do I want to find out.

"What has you behaving for the Butcher tonight?" he asks me, his gun sliding over my pussy as he stands and leans over my back. The barrel presses into my clit as he rocks it back and forth, and my eyes roll back in my head as I fight a whimper.

"Answer me, stupid girl."

"I need you," I admit with a whisper. "I need you so fucking bad."

"I'll need you even when I'm fucking dead and rotting, Lyla."

His words cause me to buck on the gun, forgetting wholly that it's loaded and the safety is off.

As soon as I stepped into this world with Neo, I knew my end would be fantastic. I knew that I'd go out in a blaze of fucking glory either with him beside me or with his hand welding the weapon.

"You going to come for me like this, beautiful?" His words have me moving faster, slinking higher toward release.

I nod. "So close. Please, Neo. Please let me come."

He chuckles menacingly, pulling the gun away from my center. "No. I don't think I will. Not yet, anyhow."

I'm his favorite game besides killing.

I love that I am, too.

When his cock nudges my entrance, I all but beg for him to press inside. To scratch the burning itch he's created.

I'm a lucky girl tonight because he's weak. He'd toy with me for hours, usually tormenting me until we were both mad for one another, but tonight, he doesn't.

His cock sheathes inside my body, stretching me and causing a sting where my muscles make way .

He gives me a few thrusts, just enough to build the fire inside me as he stokes it higher.

"You always feel so good. Fuck," he groans, and the sound of it makes me feral.

I rock back and forth, causing him to groan.

"Lyla," he warns, but I'm too far gone. Too greedy.

He can punish me later.

I think he's dropped the Glock to the floor or tossed it aside, but that's where I'm wrong.

I hear him spit before I feel the glob of saliva slide through my ass cheeks.

A broken moan curdles in my throat as the cold barrel of the gun caresses the tight, puckered hole.

At the sight of it, he fucks me harder.

He's deriving pleasure from the idea of the gun pressing inside me, and fuck, I am, too.

"Do it. Fuck me with it," I beg breathlessly.

Usually, I'd get some clipped response about knowing my place, but not tonight.

The Butcher needs this as much as I do.

He leans over my body, fisting my hair and yanking my head back as he works the tip of the gun into my ass, never missing a pounding beat with his cock as he fucks me.

Once the gun is inside me, he slogs it in and out, testing it as he bends his knees and fucks me from a different angle.

The feel of the gun with how he fucks me still is overwhelming. My breathing has halted as I acclimate to the full feeling.

My ass burns, but it only serves to drive me closer to coming.

"Two weapons inside you tonight, stupid girl. Fuck, you're so pretty so close to death."

His words cause a boiling heat in my veins.

The safety is off, and the gun is fully loaded. I'd left it so.

"Would you let me kill you like this? Would you let your husband blow your ass to smithereens?"

"Yes!" the sick side of me Neo bred answers for me without considering the ramifications of him following through.

"I bet you would look so pretty sprayed across these walls, stupid love. Like a painting at the National Gallery."

My moan comes with a tightening in my belly.

I'm so close to unraveling for him.

Soon, I'll fall to bits and pieces beneath him as a sheen of sweat breaks out across my flesh.

"Too bad I'm not through with you yet," he grits.

He picks up the pace with the gun in my ass, and my eyes roll back in my head as my orgasm is right around the corner.

"What will you do when you're through with me?" I pant.

He tightens his grip on my hair. "I'll never be through with you, stupid girl. Never!"

It's what breaks through the wall, impeding my coming apart, and I scream through a powerful orgasm as I feel my cunt squirt around him.

Only a few more punishing strokes, and he's following me, my name on his lips as he breaks.

It takes a few moments before we stop moving together in the aftermath of sex. Neo removes the Glock and holsters it as he stuffs himself back in his pants, gripping himself to clean his length off.

I grin as I cock one leg up on the edge of the bed. "Clean me up a bit, will you? "

He grins, kneeling at my feet as his tongue laps at the collective mess we made of my center.

"Get it all," I breathe.

He doesn't stop until I'm coming for him again. My hands gripped onto his hair like it's my lifeline.

"God, that's good," I breathe as he lazily licks around my clit as I'm shuddering through the aftershocks of orgasm.

A scream comes from downstairs, breaking the moment we've just had to bits as our eyes lock.

"Seems our job isn't done yet, stupid girl."

"Seems you're right, Butcher."

Even with the pressing matter of being found out, a wicked gleam lights his eyes as he tosses my clothes and pulls his blade out.

I follow him downstairs to find Anne Hatt pulling her iPhone from her bag with shaking hands.

She's come home early.

Unlucky for her.

Neo grabs her wrist from behind. "Now, let's not do anything you'll regret, yeah?"

I grin, the lunacy my vile husband bred in me rising to the surface of my psyche.

"Who are you?" Anne asks, and I pull my knife from its sheath.

"We are your saving graces. We gave you your life back," I tell her.

Her eyes roam over the body of her dead child strapped to a chair, and Neo turns her head back toward where I lean against the front of the desk.

"Look at my stupid girl when she's speaking to you," he snarls.

"Thank you, love. Now, where were we? Oh yeah, we've proved your innocence. We're the reason your trial will be thrown out of court when the inspectors come to gather evidence. "

"You killed them," Anne breathes.

"Semantics." I shrug.