LOGINI stand over my last masterpiece. A Ponce scumbag sits tied to a chair in front of me, his chest heaving, his eyes glazed with pain and exhaustion. Hours of work has turned his face into something non-human. His breaths rattle through the gurgle in his throat.
On the table beside me sits a vase made out of crystal. I take a bundle of fresh white roses, their petals soft, and dip them slowly into the pool of blood collecting at his feet. The red seeps in, darkening the petals,
"Such a dirty little slut for me."His words are heavy and degrading but they slide straight into me like molten heat. The smack to my pussy should've hurt but it didn't. It ripples through me, fire and pleasure tangled together."You get off on being used. Tell me you're my dirty little slut, doll face."My lips part but the words stick in my throat. His hand comes up again, a harder slap this time, right over my throbbing clit. My hips buck against his palm, chasing the contact."Yes..." My voice cracks, desperation bleeding through. "I-I'm your dirty little slut."It should insult me but instead it unravels me."That's right," he groans. His fingers slide through my slickness he's drawn out of me, circling my swollen clit. My legs shake, the sensitivity unbearable but addicting. My hands press against the tile for balance, nails scraping as my body tries to find an anchor against the sensation."Mmm," he hums, the sound vibrating. "Sucked my cock so good and now your cunt is beggin
My breath stutters but I obey. I part my lips and my tongue slips past them. I feel exposed and vulnerable but something about the command in his voice makes it impossible to resist. He pushes the tip into my mouth, sliding just past my lips and my eyes roll back. The weight of it, the taste, it's intoxicating. My thighs press together instinctively as I let out a soft whimper."That's it, doll face. Wrap those lips tight." His groan rumbles low, deep, and rough, echoing off the tile and sinking into my bones. "Fuck, just like that."Heat floods my cheeks as I seal my lips around him, the water dripping down his stomach and sliding onto my tongue. He twitches inside my mouth and the sounds he makes spurs me on. "Use your tongue," he growls. "Slow circles around the tip."I swirl my tongue around him, shy at first but growing bolder when I hear the hiss in his breath. The taste of him coats my tongue. Salty and addictive. Precum slides into my mouth and I love it. His head tips back ag
BeatriceAlmost two weeks have passed since that night. Since Atticus nearly bled out and nearly died in my arms.Every second of those moments is still burned into my memory. The panic. The fear. The helplessness. The doctor's orders have been clear. He needs rest but now, recovery also demands movement. Enough to keep his blood moving to prevent blood clots, but not so much that he risks injuring himself.This week, Silas and I have been taking turns keeping watch, making sure that Atticus hasn't been left alone for a single second. Truth be told, it's me he wants the most. So, here I am, pressed into the narrow hospital bed beside him. My back aches from the small cot, my shoulder sore from leaning against the rail. I won't complain though, not when he's hurting far more than I am.Today, Silas is busy preparing for the massive gathering that's coming up. So, it's just Atticus and me. This week has been long, exhausting, and terrifying. But being here, close to Atticus feels right.
SilasThe surgical room is dim, the curtains pulled tight to block out the harsh light of the day. One single lamp in the corner burns, casting a low, amber glow across the space. The smell is still here a metallic tang of blood laced with a sterile bite. No matter how many times I breathe it in, it makes my stomach coil tight.I've been getting work done the only way I can. Scrolling through my phone, answering messages, approving orders, sending warnings. My thumbs move automatically, but my mind never strays far from the bed between us.Beatrice sits across from me, her legs tucked under her in the chair, shoulders slightly hunched. She hasn't moved in days. Hasn't looked away fromAtticusunless she absolutely has to. I can't remember the last time she spoke more than a few words at a time. Her hair is tangled, her clothes creased from sleeping in them, but she doesn't seem to care.She's refused to leave. The only way she'l
"So... we're being hunted or something?" I whisper.He nods. "TakingAtticusto the hospital would put a target on our backs. Hospitals file incident reports for stab wounds. That draws police attention. We can't have that, not when we're this exposed."Tears blur my vision, streaking down my cheeks until they mingle with the blood on my skin. "Will he... he's going to make it, right?" My voice cracks; the panic in it is undeniable.Silascups my face with his large hands. His thumbs brush gently against my cheeks. "I trust the doctor working on him with our lives. He's the best of the best. He'll do everything he possibly can to saveAtticus."I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. I force myself to breathe, trying to turn my panic into patience. Silently, I pray.Hours drag by in heavy silence. The only sounds are our shallow breaths and the faint hum of machinery from inside the room. Every minute stretches like an eternity
"SILAS!" I scream, my throat raw. The name tears out of me, jagged and desperate. I turn back toAtticusas he coughs, blood splattering across my arms, chest, and face. Tears blur my vision and all I can see is red. "Atticus. You have to keep your eyes open.Please."He coughs again, wet and rattling, then forces out words that shouldn't be his last, but they sound like they could be. "Don't cry... doll face. I've... made you... cry enough.""Shhh. Don't talk. It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay." I don't know if I'm lying to him or myself. My hands shake violently as I keep pressure, as if I can hold his life in place. I whip my head toward the stairs again, my chest burning, my lungs clawing for air. I scream again, louder, uglier, a sound that rips my vocal cords apart."SILAS!!"I rock back and forth,Atticus'shead cradled in my lap like I can keep him tethered to me. My free hand cards through his hair,
BeatriceI toss onto my other side, shoving the thick comforter away with a frustrated sigh. The mattress is absurdly soft, cradling every inch of me. But sleep won't come. My body is exhausted, my eyes heavy, but my mind just won't shut the fuck up.The bed is perf
The final strike lands harder than all the rest; sharp, punishing, and precise. Her back arches, mouth falling open with a cry that dissolves into something closer to a moan. A sound she doesn't mean to make but it's a sound I'll never forget."That's for ignoring me," I say, my voice a da
"Tell me something about you," I say, giving his arm another squeeze. "You live in this giant house all by yourself. Do you have any family? And how old are you, anyway?"He picks up on the shift instantly. His lips curling into a smirk. "Curious about me, angel?""Well, you know stuff about me. I
"I'm glad you think so," he says, "but I already know I am."I narrow my eyes and give him a glare. "Someone's cocky."He raises a brow and tilts his head to the side. "Confident, angel," he says, dragging his hands slightly higher up my thighs. "There's a difference."Silas's hand gives me a gentl







