Chapter Thirteen

Raine

F inally, I was going to have some fucking fun in this house.

Bailey Bishop. Mmm… Fuck. I couldn't wait to feast on that pussy of hers. Couldn't wait to bury my dick in every one of her holes.

And the resistance. Holy fuck, the way she fights me only makes me want her more. I want to hear her beg and scream and cry until she cums so hard she blacks out. Ever since that night, when I saw her climbing up the stairs of this house, I dreamed about this moment. When I saw the fire in her eyes, felt the adrenaline in her veins, smelled the cream inside her wet panties… I knew she was going to be a tasty fucking snack.

There was no way she would've gotten that door open without me. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't let her get away. And now she was just as much mine as she was theirs.

I perched on the foot of her bed, waiting for her. She was taking too long. I needed to touch her again. Bailey Bishop was like a drug to me. And I needed another fix.

Right. Fucking. Now.

I started for the bathroom door just as it wrenched open. She stood in the doorway, her chest heaving underneath her thin white tank top. Her eyes blazed with fear and fury. It got me so fucking hard.

She flinched as I stalked toward her. "You shouldn't have put your clothes back on, pretty girl. I'm just going to make you take them off."

Her lip quivered as she clung to the doorknob. "I have questions," she stammered.

That devious part of my brain kicked into high gear. "And I have answers… for a price."

I let her shove past me. She looked around the room suddenly realizing there was nowhere to sit but the bed. I watched as she hesitated before climbing on top of her duvet cover.

"What's your price, Raine?"

Yes, the fun part. "For every question I answer, you have to do something for me. Anything I ask. How's that sound?"

Her cheeks flamed. "Forget it. Leave me alone. I don't know why I thought meeting you was a good idea."

I leaned against the wall and drank in the sight of her. The way the ends of her blonde hair dripped water onto her chest. It trickled down between her breasts, soaking her tank top. Her nipples poked through the damp fabric, begging to be sucked.

"Come on, little vixen. Play with me a while…" Her throat bobbed as I inched toward the bed. "Go ahead, ask me a question."

She sucked in a sharp breath and pulled her knees to her chest. All I could think about was ripping her sweatpants off and spreading her wide open.

Despite her claim to hate me, her violet eyes blazed with hunger and lust as she looked at me. "Did you abuse your wife? Is that why she killed you?"

Clever little vixen. "That's two questions, Bailey."

She rolled her eyes.

I took another step toward her. "And I will answer them both. But I'm keeping score."

She bit her lip. "Fine. Answer them both."

I slid onto the foot of the bed, draping myself across it. "Yes. But not physically. We didn't like each other much. Our marriage was forced on us by our families. She called my lack of interest abuse; I called it dissonance. And yes, that is why she killed me. Hemlock. The second I took my last living breath, everything I owned became hers alone. And I owned a lot."

I had blocked out so many of those memories. But I could speak about them now as if they'd happened to someone else.

Bailey tapped her fingernails against her knees. "That's one of the saddest stories I've ever heard."

She had no fucking idea. I gave her the abridged version. Didn't think it would turn her on to hear how I foamed at the mouth and my eyes bulged out of my head right before I died. "My turn. Pull your shirt down and lay back against the headboard."

A bright rosy hue flushed across her cheeks. Her breath hitched as she pulled the straps of her top down with trembling fingers. My cock stirred at the sight of her hard nipples. They were hard for me. That's what she was really afraid of. She didn't want me to see how much she wanted this.

"Good girl," I rasped. "Now I want to watch you play with them."

She yanked her shirt back up and crossed her arms. "No. I'm not playing this game. "

This fucking brat . I scrambled across the bed and straddled her. As her closed fist came flying at my face, I caught it and pinned her wrists over her head.

"Stop being a fucking brat. You agreed ."

She twisted underneath me, grunting. " I lied ."

Fuck this. I hovered my lips over hers. "The only thing you're lying about is how fucking hard you want me to make you cum."

I pressed myself between her thighs. "You feel that, Bailey?" My cock throbbed against her. "Because I can feel how wet you are even through your pants."

She took shallow breaths, sweet torturous breaths that tickled my lips. Her hips betrayed her as they rolled up. I could see the frustration in her eyes. Like a drug, it filled me. I craved the chaos of her emotions.

"You know how good my cock will feel inside you. You're craving it right now. How the ridges of my shaft will feel sliding in… and tearing through your tight little cunt."

"No," she breathed. " You're a psycho ."

I was past the point of reason. Her scent consumed my every breath. "I'm taking what I want, little vixen. Fight me all you want, but I will have your cum on my cock."

There were two things that Bailey Bishop was going to learn today—what it's like to fuck a monster… and that she's a monster too.