Hunting Adeline (Cat and Mouse Duet Book 2)
Hunting Adeline: Part 2 – Chapter 37

I’m a ball of nervous energy by the time Zade walks through my bedroom door. Between the footsteps trekking back and forth down the hallway, and my anticipation to see Zade, I haven’t been able to sleep.

It’s well after midnight now, and I’ve been lying in bed in nothing but a black nightie, gearing myself up for his arrival.

Rolling over, I watch him gently shut the door and begin to shuffle towards the bathroom, sulfur, blood, and smoke permeating the air. My balcony doors are cracked open, allowing in the cool breeze and webs of moonlight.

I sit up and flip on the sconces hanging above my bed, feeling like one of those women sitting in a pitch-black room, clicking on a single lamp when their cheating husband sneaks through the door.

The thought of Zade cheating is laughable, though. That will always be one thing I’d never have to concern myself with.

He pauses, tipping his chin over his shoulder at me.

“Is this where we act like a married couple, and I ask where you’ve been and why you’re home so late?” I tease lightly.

The lights radiate a soft yellow glow, creating a moody effect as he reaches his hand over his shoulder and tugs his hoodie over his head by the neck, pulling his white t-shirt with it.

I bite my lip, my eyes eating up his muscled, tattooed back and massive arms.

“Sure, baby,” he says quietly. “But we both know my cock belongs only to you.”

“Good, then you know I can remove it from your body if I want. Since it’s mine and all that.”

He turns with a grin, not the least bit concerned.

I cross my arms. That’s just insulting. I’m pretty much a badass now.

“I got held up because the guy I was after was in the middle of an airport attempting to get on a flight.”

“How’d you get him out without anyone noticing?”

“Ambushed him while he was taking a piss. Then had to empty out a suitcase to stuff his body into.”

I blink. That sounds… interesting.

Before, I’d call him disturbed. Sick. Psychotic. I mean, he is still all of those things. But it no longer repulses me like it used to. Or maybe it never did, and I was lying to myself.

I do that a lot.

“Who was it?” I ask.

“Some man that Jillian asked me to kill. Used to be her step-dad and abused her as a child,” he explains, toeing off his boots and setting them neatly in the corner of the room.

I wasn’t surprised to replace that Zade lives meticulously. He doesn’t seem like the type to leave his dirty underwear lying in the middle of the room for a week, or crusty dishes in the sink.

“Good,” I murmur, happy that he could do that for her. “Is he the only one you killed tonight?”

“Yes,” he responds simply, arching a brow.

I nod and lick my dry lips, nervous about broaching this subject. “So, Rio is still evading you?”

Zade glances at me. “I know where he is, Addie,” he answers, approaching me, wearing nothing but his black jeans and belt.

My heart drops, but I work to keep my face blank.

“You don’t want him dead,” he states plainly, sitting on the edge of the chair beside the bed. I’m pretty sure we’ll have to clean that—he’s absolutely covered in blood.

“Why would you thi—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he cuts in sternly, facing straight ahead. His white eye flits towards me before returning to the black wall.

“I see your face anytime his impending death is brought up, yet you always keep your pretty mouth shut. I’ve known his location for a while, but I’ve decided that I’ll wait to kill him until you open your mouth and tell me what you really want.”

I’m nervous. Almost like he’s caught me cheating, and I have to confess. It’s nothing like that, yet I feel like I’ve been bad anyway.

“I don’t know what I feel,” I admit, pressing my back into the cool stone. “He hurt me. Often. But not in the ways you think.”

“He didn’t rape you,” Zade supplies.

“No… he didn’t. But he witnessed it happen from the other men and didn’t stop it. But then… he couldn’t have.”

“Sure he could,” Zade argues. “You think I’d stand by and watch?”

“Even if—”

“No. The answer is no, regardless of the scenario. If I were weaponless and had five guns trained on me, I still wouldn’t stand by and watch you—or any of those other girls—go through what you did. And I get that his sister was used as collateral, but he could’ve asked for my help.”

I frown. I hadn’t really thought of that. Rio was very aware of who he was going up against from the beginning. So why didn’t he betray those who were holding his sister hostage, and get Z to help him instead?

“You’re right,” I acquiesce softly. “Regardless of his choices, it’s still hard to forget how much he helped me. When Sydney was trying to frame me, there were times he took the blame instead, and Rocco would beat the shit out of him for it. He may not have been able to step in every time, but he did what he could in a situation he felt trapped in.”

Zade stays quiet, so I continue. “Francesca made him take care of my injuries from the car accident since they were his fault. But then I started getting injuries from the men, and then eventually Xavier, and he took care of those, too. I… don’t know how to explain it. But he kind of became my friend. He was a little cruel in the beginning with Dr. Garrison, but he never looked at me like… He was the only man in that house that didn’t sexualize me, and I guess in the end, he was my safe place. He did hurt me, Zade, but he protected me, too.”

The muscle in his jaw pops, but I can’t tell what’s on his mind. It takes him a few moments, but eventually, he turns his head to me with an empty expression.

“Do you want me to spare his life?” he asks, voice monotone.

I open my mouth, but no words make it out.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I really don’t know.”

“What did we talk about before? Decide what you can and cannot live with. Can you live with knowing that I killed Rio, or can you not?”

I frown, looking down at my hands while I contemplate that. I’ve been picking at a hangnail without even realizing, a dot of blood on the side of my thumb.

“Would you do it?” I question, looking up at him. “If I asked, would you spare his life?”

“Yes,” he responds. “I would kill for you—I have killed for you—but I would also put down a gun and never pick it up again if you asked it of me. The lengths I would go to for you are terrifying, little mouse. So easily, you could destroy me, and I would lie down and take it. I don’t care if I live or die—as long as it’s all for you.”

“Don’t say that,” I whisper.

“I don’t lie, Adeline, and I’m not going to start now. So, tell me. Do you want me to spare his life?”

“Yes,” I answer after a few beats. “I want Rio to live with his own choices. Whether he regrets the decisions he made or not, I want him to live with it. And I don’t want either of us to be responsible for taking away Katerina’s brother.”

Zade drops his head, but he nods. And the love that was nearly bursting from my tongue when I saw him on TV is back again, though it never really left.

I crawl from the bed and kneel between his spread thighs, grabbing his face in my palms and kissing his lips softly.

“Thank you,” I say. “Not just for this, but for earlier, too. Taking the blame for Xavier’s death.”

“Didn’t I say I’d do anything for you?” he asks, turning his head to kiss my palm before slipping from my fingers and standing up.

“I need to shower. Sleep, baby.”

I open my mouth, but he’s closing the bathroom door behind him before I can process his exit, leaving me kneeling on the floor and feeling a little dejected.

My heart sinks, guilt gnawing at my insides for asking him to spare Rio. I wonder if I should rescind my decision. Though if I’m being honest with myself, I think I’d mourn his death. And I’d never be able to look Katerina in the eye again, despite what her brother has put me through.

I’m sitting up in bed, mind racing over what to do when Zade emerges, steam rolling from the depths of the bathroom from behind him. He dons nothing but a black towel, loosely tucked around his waist and on the verge of slipping off.

My mouth waters at the sight, and I grow so heated, my blood boils until I’m left with nothing but vapors.

There will never be another that looks like him—never another that will be anything like him. And there’s a small part of me terrified to see the day Zade dies. Though I’ll have a lot to fucking say if he croaks before he turns ninety.

Asshole jumped through hoops to get me, now he has to suffer through a long life of having me.

I’ll never understand how humans fear death when time is far scarier. It ultimately leads us to death because it’s the only thing that truly makes us mortal. We’re locked in the illusion with no way out.

Fuck, I really want out.

When he spots me, he pauses just briefly before sighing. “You’re still up.”

“And you’re hiding from me,” I retort.

He chuckles humorlessly. “I’m a stalker, baby. I’ve always hidden from you.”

“Stop it,” I snap.

“What do you want, Adeline?” he asks sharply, his frustration mounting.

“Dammit, Zade, I want you. I’m sorry that Rio gets to live, okay? Jesus, it’s one of the very few things you’ve let me have power over, and you’re making me feel guilty…” My voice trails off when he storms over to me, fear clogging my throat.

In seconds, he’s standing before me, gripping my jaw in his hand, and pulling me up until my knees barely touch the bed. I squeal, clawing at his arm, but he doesn’t relent.

“You love to pretend you’re so fucking helpless, just like a little mouse caught in a trap. If that’s what you want to be, I can show you what it truly means to be powerless. I can show you what it means to be me.”

My eyes widen with bafflement, my nails digging deeper. “You?!” I echo, aghast from his implication.

“Yes, me!” he shouts. “I have no goddamn control when it comes to you. I lost it when I saw you in that bookstore and never got it back. You think me stalking you was control? Drinking from your body despite your cries? Do you think I have it right fucking now?” he growls, shaking my head to emphasize his point.

His eyes are blazing, dilated with both fury and something so potent, it burns me alive.

“You’ve said it yourself, I could use your body for my own pleasure, but what’s one thing I could never take from you? What’s the one thing I wanted the most from you, Adeline?”

“My love,” I cry, tears welling and spilling over.

“That’s right. Your love. The only thing I’ve ever needed from you. You are the one with the power, you’ve just never known what the fuck to do with it.”

It takes several moments, but slowly, it dawns on me. His words finally fucking process through the thick skull God cursed me with.

Zade gave in to every one of his darkest instincts because he never possessed the control to stop himself. He took, and took, and took because it was the only thing he could take. But that never made him powerful—it made him helpless.

Until now, I could never make sense of that when he’s always done what he wanted. Stalked me, touched me, fucked me whenever he wanted. No matter how many protests fell from my lips, or how many times I fought him.

He chased me when I ran, pulled me back when I pushed him away, yet would worship me at my feet if I asked him to.

And I finally understand why. One cannot wield power if one does not have control over it.

“Glad to see you finally take over the throne,” he murmurs, frustration radiating from his mismatched eyes.

I shake my head, retracting my nails from his arm and gently prying his fingers away from my jaw. He releases me, brimming with energy.

“I’m not taking over the throne, Zade. You are the throne. You’ve always been my pillar of strength, and I’m sorry it took so long to see it.”

His gaze searches mine desperately, hunting for any hint of a lie. It would be like replaceing an active bomb. The second he discovered it, it’d tear him to pieces.

Slowly, I stand from the bed, backing him away from me until I’m on both of my feet. He doesn’t give me much room, but I don’t want it.

My heart pounds, and I drop my eyes, watching my hand rise to meet his heated flesh. He nearly burns to the touch, and I’ve never wanted to be consumed by fire more.

The pads of my fingertips brush across his defined muscles, beautiful tattoos, and the white scars slashing across several parts of his torso. My knees weaken while I focus primarily on the dragon running up his chest.

God, if that creature doesn’t embody the man standing before me, I don’t know what does. A fire breathing dragon capable of sending me fucking soaring.

Flattening my palm on his stomach, I push him away, almost fascinated by the way he relents without resistance.

“Take that off,” I order, glancing at his towel, my voice trembling with desire. He stares at me, his silence loud and chaotic as he heeds my command.

I work to swallow as he slowly and methodically unravels the towel, taunting me while keeping his yin-yang eyes pinned on me.

It feels as if an entire galaxy is swirling in my stomach. There’s a black hole, devouring all sense and reason. A sun sending solar flares lashing throughout my body, heating me from the inside out and sinking lower to the apex of my thighs, and a supernova, on the precipice of exploding.

He releases the knot, the towel dropping to the floor with a quiet thunk.

Fuck me sideways.

His cock is hard, the tip reddened and the veins prominent, and it nearly sends me to my knees with a prayer on my tongue. He’s fucking glorious, and my heart wrenches with the reminder that this man—no, this God—is mine.

He straightens, and I try to tell myself to drink him in slowly.

Small sips, Addie. Savor him.

But I can’t keep my greedy eyes from eating up the expanse of his physique, lingering specifically below his waist.

I haven’t forgotten how terrifying Zade’s cock is. Yet every time, it feels like a punch in the chest to see it in the flesh, knowing he has to fit that inside of me.

My mouth salivates when I recall the burn from him stretching me and how he’d have to work himself inside of me. Fuck, it’s just like being addicted to the pain of getting a tattoo. Every bite of the needle you want to run away, but you stay because the outcome is pure fucking bliss.

Giving me a loaded look, he walks to the dresser and digs something out of the drawer. Jesus, his backside is almost as mouth-watering as the front. My lungs close, and I’m no longer breathing.

The sound of metal is what finally pulls my attention away from his body. He’s advancing toward me, holding black handcuffs, and the sight sends my heart skipping like a rock across the surface of a lake.

I take a big step back. Most men would pause when they see hesitation, but Zade doesn’t falter as he approaches me.

“What are you doing with those?” I ask, alarm building in my chest.

“Don’t worry, baby, these are for me.”

Meeting his stare, I’m instantly soothed. A range of emotions swirl in his black and white pools. Desire, love, and wicked intent. But he’s so damn calm, and that’s what makes me feel calm.

Furrowing my brow, I watch him hold out the handcuffs and key to me, but I don’t take them yet.

“What are you planning?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Didn’t I tell you before that you don’t need a cop to get me in handcuffs? I said I’d let you do anything you want to me, and that’s what I’m doing.”

I’m not sure why I’m so surprised to hear that. He’s made it clear I hold the power but seeing him physically hand it to me is still jarring.

Licking my lips, I hesitantly grab them and place the key on the nightstand. The second I do, he turns around once more, showing me the massive octopus tattooed across his back, the tentacles unfurling up to his shoulders and neck.

Some nights, I trace each line while he sleeps, familiarizing myself with the feel of his skin when he’s not demanding it of me.

Just like those late nights, I brush my fingers over the fine details in the octopus, marveling over the talent that went into this piece.

The muscles in his back ripple from my touch, and I can’t help but feel invigorated by the effect I have on him.

Enjoying his reaction, I tease him. Trailing the pads of my fingers lightly down his back, his arms, and to his hands. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and I bite back a smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this man get something as trivial as goosebumps. It’s a normal human reaction, but when has Zade ever acted like anything less than a deity?

I tighten the handcuffs around his wrists, inhaling sharply when he turns again and stands before me. Persephone imprisoning Hades—it’s too sweet not to salivate over.

“You’ll let me do anything I want to you?” I reiterate, hesitant to believe it. Seeing him so… defenseless—my brain can’t quite process it.

His eyes darken, and his grin slips. “You’ve always been an atheist to my word. You’re incapable of believing in something you can’t see and lack faith because you’re blind to what’s right in front of you. I’m yours to command—I always have been. You just need to see it to finally believe it.”

Clearing my throat, I whisper, “Sit on the bed.”

Without hesitation, he steps back and slowly sits down, keeping his legs spread. My eyes gravitate between them again, and my heart flutters like a hummingbird’s wings, equally transfixed and intimidated.

Forcing myself to focus, I grip the bottom of my nightie and pull it over my head, keeping my pace slow and torturous. Zade hums his approval deep in his chest, and it gives me a boost of courage. Enough to slip my panties down my thighs and step out of them.

There’s never a sexy way to do it, but the way Zade’s eyes hungrily eat up my body, it feels like I just performed a highly skilled trick on a stripper pole. In reality, I’d break my neck attempting that.

“Get on the bed and kneel,” I tell him, tipping my chin up to direct him. He grins but does as I say, climbing on the bed with a panther’s grace. He sits back on his heels with his knees spread, and more than anything, I want to take a picture of him so I can look back at it when we’re old and gray and neither of us are even capable of sex anymore.

Strips of moonlight and the soft glow from the sconces accentuate the hard planes of his chest and abs, highlighting each muscle straining against his skin.

Only the devil can wield the shadows around his body with such divinity. A devil and a God—two opposing forces that make up one contradicting being.

Licking my lips with anticipation, I crawl onto the bed and then onto his lap, keeping my pussy suspended over the tip of his cock.

His lips whisper up the column of my neck, and I put my hands on his shoulders to not only balance myself but to keep him controlled.

My core throbs when a deep rumble vibrates throughout my hands, building as I deliberately brush my hardened nipples against his face. Right when he goes to bite down, I pull away, increasing the tremors shaking his body.

His head tips back until our eyes clash. I shiver from the uncaged lust spearing from his gaze. He looks at me like he’s only biding his time. Doing my bidding for now until the second I unlock those handcuffs.

In the blink of an eye, he’ll snap, striking like a viper. My throat in his hands and my heart between his teeth.

I feel the fear pulsating in my clit, heightening my heart rate to dangerous levels.

“You think you’re broken now, Adeline? Wait until you free me from these confines,” he threatens, the deep timbre of his voice lined with sharp glass. “I’ll fuck you until every single one of your bones breaks beneath me. Helpless little mouse, for me to mold and manipulate.”

He’s deliberately trying to scare me, knowing how much my body sings for the terror he instills in me.

Instinctively, I want to run from his terrifying promises and the creeping trepidation that he’s going to do just that. I also want to challenge him so he can make good on them.

My heart thrashes against my rib cage, but I don’t break his stare. Biting my lip, I reach between us and grab ahold of his length, delighting in the way his top lip curls into a snarl.

And then, ever so slowly, I slide the tip along my slit, wetting him before lowering myself increment by minuscule increment, until there’s no discerning which of us is trembling.

I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck, molding my soft curves into his harsh lines, and slowly work him inside me. It feels just as I remembered—the burning as he stretched me wide, but the insatiable bliss that accompanies it.

My demons are tickling the back of my brain, begging to be let in to wreak havoc on my sanity. Drag me from this precious moment where I reclaim something that was stolen from me. So, I focus every ounce of my attention on the man beneath me.

His thinning breath, the building earthquake racking his body, and the veins pulsing in his neck as he fights to keep still.

I nudge my lips against the shell of his ear, that heady sense of power arising up through my throat and off my tongue.

“Do you want to see how easily I can break you?” I murmur coyly.

He grunts as I drop lower again, more than half of his cock buried inside me. It feels like too much and not enough. It’s never enough. Even when I’m filled to the brim, I want more.

I don’t wait for him to answer, nerves eating me alive even though this feels right. So fucking right.

“I love you, Zade. Sometimes I can’t fucking stand it,” I say, my voice raspy and uneven. “But it was the only thing that kept me alive. You saved me. Even when we were apart, you saved me. And I hope to God you never stop hunting me.”

His head rolls back, eyes to the ceiling, and he stills beneath me, as solid as the stone walls in Parsons Manor.

“Let me go, Adeline,” he says tightly. I hardly recognize his voice.

I sink the rest of the way down, seating myself completely on his length. The stone cracks, and his chest ripples with a sharp inhale.

“Let me fucking go,” he bites out again. I shake my head, though he’s not looking at me. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

I know what he’s asking. Release the handcuffs. He could get out of them if he wanted to. And the fact that he’s waiting until I do it myself speaks volumes.

I have a strong feeling that despite what Zade thinks, he’s had more control than he gives himself credit for. But the second the metal falls from his wrists, it will dissipate. Now that I’ve given him everything, I will experience Zade truly at his most unhinged.

There was never a question that he would strike the moment they were off, but now he’s a starved animal with fresh meat right outside its cage.

“I’m not going to do that.”

Fuck it, I might as well take advantage while I’m still in one piece.

My mouth parts as I rock against him, allowing my eyes to drift and my head to tip back as euphoria builds where we’re connected.

Low, uneven moans fill the air, so lost in riding his cock and how good it feels to use his body for my own pleasure that when his hot breath fans across my neck, it feels like waking up from a fever dream and not remembering where I am.

“I hope you enjoy this, baby,” he rumbles into my ear. “I hope you revel in the feeling of your pretty cunt intact and your skin pristine.”

My breath hitches, his tone darker than a black hole swallowing up the stars in the sky. No light escapes—not in them, nor in Zade.

I grind against him harder, gritting my teeth as his biting words eat at my bravery. Sweat coats both of our bodies for entirely different reasons. It takes effort to contain his beast, while mine is loose and out of control.

“You don’t scare me,” I lie, shivering when I roll my hips just right, the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot.

“Shame,” he murmurs, nipping at the sensitive flesh in the juncture of my collarbone, making my body quake once more. “I love it when you’re a scared little mouse, thrashing beneath my paw and desperate to get away.”

“Does it make you feel powerful?” I ask through gritted teeth, repeating a question he asked me not too long ago. An orgasm is building low in my belly, shredding my control as my movements become choppy.

“Of course, it does,” he murmurs, his deep voice dark and wicked, our moans entwining when I roll my hips. “When you’re in the palm of my hands, it’s the only time I feel like this world is worth saving.”

Panting, I rock faster, chasing the orgasm just within my reach.

“You like to use my cock to make you come, don’t you, baby? Remember that whenever you think you don’t need me. Nothing will make your little pussy feel better than I can. And look, I don’t even have to fucking try.”

My vision blurs, and I reach down between us, thrumming my clit while slamming down on his cock just right until I finally reach that pinnacle.

It feels like my soul is ripped to shreds in a matter of seconds. A scream tears from my throat, even though I can’t hear it. Not when different pieces of my being are scattered in hundreds of thousands of different dimensions.

There’s no sense of time or space, just colors and a feeling of completion. Like I was put together wrong before, and now that I’ve shattered, those pieces were stitched back together the correct way.

It’s fucking addicting, and by the time I come down, Parsons Manor reappearing, I want to go back. Wherever I went, I want to go back.

Zade’s chin is tucked low, seeming defeated in a way. It unnerves me so much that I twist at the hips and grab the key lying on the nightstand. Right when I go to lift off of him, he lifts his head just an inch.

“Don’t,” he warns.

Unsure of where his head is at, I listen and reach around him, fumbling to replace the keyhole. Finally, the key slips in, but I hesitate to turn it.

There’s a looming sense of foreboding. I know he’s going to attack, but… it’s not knowing exactly what he’s going to do that unnerves me.

“Zade…”

“What’s wrong, Adeline?” he taunts darkly, eyes still cast downward. “Turn the key,” he whispers.

Fuck, that’s terrifying.

“I don’t know if I want to,” I admit.

“Would you rather I break free myself? You either choose this, or I make the decision for you.”

So, what he’s saying is I only have the illusion of a choice. What a fucking gentleman.

Working to swallow, I hold my breath and twist the key. The metal clicks, and the next second, his hand is wrapped around the underside of my jaw, lifting me up off his dick and into the air.

I cry out when I’m slammed onto the bed, stiff fingers digging into my neck as he fits himself between my legs and hikes one high on his hip. Without further warning, he drives himself inside of me until there’s nothing left of him to give.

“Say it again,” he demands. “I want you to look me in my fucking eyes and say it again.”

He slams into me once more, wringing a sob from my throat.

My throat dries, the words coming up like dry bread. But I stare into his wild eyes, replaceing an entire universe within, and say, “I love you. And you’ve taken everything from me.”

His head drops low between his shoulders, gliding his stare down my body all the way to where he stretches me, contemplating my words. And then he looks up at me beneath thick brows, a wicked glint in his stare. As if taking everything from me is all he’s ever wanted.

He looks… God, he looks fucking terrifying. Like a man starved for revenge, and he’s finally getting it.

A shuddering breath trickles from my throat as he plunges deep inside me again, a direct threat to destroy all that’s left of me.

“You’ve taken my entire heart and soul and my ability to love another. Sometimes I hate you for that,” I tell him, my voice quaking. He tips his chin up, now staring down his nose at me, a grin stretching across his face, crinkling the scar on his cheek.

I forge on, heart pounding as he grinds against me, enjoying watching me struggle to get the words out. “Sometimes, I wish I’d never met you. Because now that I have, now that I’m in love with you, I’ll never be able to carve you out. You said I’d bleed out before that’d ever happen, and you were right. And I hate you for that.”

Zade hums, licking his lips as if he ate something delicious. His hand drifts up to my cheek, swiping my bottom lip with his thumb.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say you love me, and if you ever stop, I’ll put strings in your fucking lips and make you say it.”

Then, he leans down closer until his breath fans across my cheeks, and whispers, “But I don’t believe you.”

My mouth drops, and my brows furrow. “Are you fuck—”

He shuts me up with his cock, driving into me again with one thrust of his hips. “I’ve lost sight of my faith. I need to see it.”

I thin my eyes, contemplating what more he could possibly want from me.

He rubs my lip harder. “You say so many things you don’t mean, baby. The truth lies in your fingertips and in the soft curves of your body. In the tears you cry so pretty for me, and how hard you come for me. Show me the truth.”

For several beats, I’m at a loss of how to do that. Then, it dawns on me, and he must see the realization in my eyes because he grins again, staring down at me with amusement.

The look angers me as if he thinks I’m going to merely get on my knees for him and recite poetry or some shit. The challenge burns in my chest as my eyes drift over to my nightstand.

Following my stare, he cocks a brow and turns back to me, picking up on my thoughts without having to say anything.

I’ve bled for Zade, but only to replace the marks of another man.

Soon after I was taken, he carved a rose over his heart. And now… I want him to do the same to me.

He leans over and grabs the knife from the nightstand.

“This what you want?” he asks, twirling the knife until the light glints off of it.

“Yes,” I say, though I don’t sound the least bit confident.

“And what do you want me to do with this? Slice you open again?”

I shake my head, reaching up to brush the pads of my fingers across the jagged rose on his chest.

“I want this,” I admit. Grabbing his wrist, I guide his hand, holding the knife right above my breast. The previous amusement shutters from his eyes, replaced by something dark and treacherous.

“I want one just like yours,” I say, rolling my hips to remind him that this is real.

He tenses, the veins roping up his arm and neck pulsating. He’s studying me closely, and I’m beginning to lose my nerve.

“Please, Zade,” I plead quietly.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath, and by the time he’s opening them, his beast has taken over.

“Rub your clit, baby,” he directs. I do as he says, reaching between us and replaceing the sensitive little bud and start circling it lightly. My lids flutter, acute pleasure rising and stealing my breath. I feel my pussy clench around him, throbbing with desire as my touch grows firmer.

He growls, rolling his hips so I can feel how full I am of him.

One of his hands slides beneath me, cupping the back of my neck firmly while he leans in close, poising the tip of the knife right above my heart.

He’s looking up at me beneath his lashes, waiting for my reaction. I only give him a husky moan as a response, grinding against him. I’ve been at the mercy of Zade’s pain before, and it was one of the most euphoric experiences in my life.

“I’m not going to stop,” he warns me.

“I’m not scared of you,” I bite, moaning again as an orgasm builds.

“So many lies,” he whispers, right before he presses the blade in and starts to cut.

I suck in a sharp breath, burning pain flaring in my chest. Slowly and methodically, he begins to thrust in and out of me, keeping his movements gentle so he can slice cleanly.

This isn’t short little cuts like last time, but one long, continuous drag. It’s nearly blinding, so I rub my clit harder, moaning from the cornucopia of pleasure and agony ravaging my body.

It feels as if a gasoline-lined rose is seeping into my skin, and it’s steadily catching fire beneath his touch.

“I will carve a garden of scars into your flesh, little mouse. Only my pain will bring them to life.” I tip my head back, groaning from the sharp bite of his knife. “They’ll only ever grow beneath my touch.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, and his voice cuts in sharply. “Look at me, Adeline. I want you to watch me brand you as mine.”

Though it’s a struggle, I force my eyes open, trading between the macabre rose being engraved into my skin, and his glimmering mismatched eyes.

“You’re doing such a good job, baby,” he whispers, sparing me a quick glance. Sweat forms along my hairline as the two different sensations battle in my nerve endings.

“You take it so fucking good,” he groans, biting his lip as blood bubbles and pours from the wound, pooling in the divot in my throat and the sheets beneath me.

My breath hitches as his cock hits that spot inside of me, sending my eyes rolling to the back of my head. I arch into the knife and twirl my fingers faster, uncaring how grotesque the rose will look.

Nothing about our love is pretty. It’s full of jagged lines, chipped pieces, and sharp edges. It hurts like fucking hell, but it’s not a masterpiece if it didn’t make you bleed for it.

He curses, the blade slicing through my skin faster.

“Don’t you dare fucking come yet, Adeline. Not until I tell you to.”

I don’t listen, continuing to chase after it despite his warning. Nothing else matters right now except coming all over his cock with his knife in my chest.

He growls, the hand around the back of my neck sliding up and fisting my hair so tightly, I cry out. After a few more moments, he pulls the knife away, the agony still lancing throughout the bloodied rose.

I’m so close. Right on the precipice.

But then he jerks my head back farther, forcing me to bow off the bed. Seconds later, the sharp edge of the knife is pressing into my jugular, and Zade’s dangerously soft voice is filling my ear.

“I can slit your throat so fucking easy. And the harder you come, the faster your blood will drain from your body,” he drawls.

My fingers still, a different type of agony stealing my breath as I force the orgasm back down.

“You don’t fucking come until I tell you to,” he repeats, his voice biting and as rough as sandpaper. Despite his threat, he fucks me harder, pressing his chest into mine and earning a pained cry in response.

His breathing escalates, the sharp edge biting into the sensitive flesh on my neck. With every thrust, he jerks my body and causes it to scrape against my skin.

“Zade, please,” I cry. “You feel so fucking good. I need it so bad.”

He inhales sharply, and then he’s flinging the knife across the room, the sound of it cracking against my vanity mirror swallowed by my sharp cries.

His hand comes around my throat, mouth still pressed into my ear.

“Say it again,” he demands, quickening his pace.

I bite my lip until I taste copper, struggling to hold on—to keep from exploding around him. I’m in a losing battle, and I am a fucking liar. I’m terrified of what Zade will do—enough to keep grappling at that control. Yet I know if I let go, I’ll welcome his punishment as chaotically as I did the tip of his knife.

“I love you,” I choke out, the words scarcely leaving my tongue before his hand is clamping down, arresting the oxygen in my lungs.

“Such a good girl. I want you to soak these sheets with your cum as deeply as your blood, do you understand me?”

My mouth opens, but no sound escapes. He’s gripping my throat too tightly to allow a single decibel to slip through.

Blackness licks at the edges of my vision, taunting me as it creeps in slowly. The pressure in my head heightens, and I feel how bright red my face is. Panic unfurls in my stomach, into the whirlpool of bliss and agony. It’s a battle of needing him to stop and preferring he snap my neck if he does.

I’m clawing at his arm, and when my eyes begin to roll, he releases my throat right as a tidal wave crashes through me.

The combination of the blood draining from my head at a dizzying speed and the earth-shattering orgasm reduces me to delirium. My pussy clenches around him so tightly, I feel him strain to sink into me.

“Zade!” I scream through a ravaged throat, hoarse and cracked, my arms looping around his neck, desperate to hold on to something, and needing it to ground me as I’m shredded into pieces.

My ears ring as my body bows completely off the bed, the euphoria clawing at my insides too intense for me to process.

He refuses to stop, fucking me harder even as I thrash in his hold. His hands clutch my hips with a bruising force, and if I could see past the image of God staring in my eyes, asking me if I’m ready to come home, I’d replace an unhinged man on his knees asking if he can come, too.

Tears spring to my eyes, and my face contorts with a helpless cry as my body is ravaged. All of the sensations—it’s too much.

“Oh my God, please, I can’t anymore!”

I feel his fist slam into the mattress beside my head with a guttural growl, and his tongue slides along my cheekbone, lapping up the teardrops.

“Eyes on me when you’re praying to me,” he snaps. I shake my head, more tears spilling over. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cry for me. Do you think I’ll ever stop now? I want to drink your fucking tears like they’re the blood of Christ.”

I shake my head again, a silent plea for him to stop. But he refuses, and I wonder how much longer I can take it before I black out.

“Am I your salvation, too?” I choke out, barely getting the words out before a sob breaks free.

“You were always going to be the one that saved me, little mouse.” He shudders, and I feel his body tightening as he nears his end. It’s coming for me, too, and I’m scared what will become of me once it hits.

He fucks me faster, slipping his hand between our bodies and sliding his fingers against my clit, and this time, I don’t see anything at all. My mouth opens on a near-silent scream, and he roars, supplying the sound of us breaking apart, adrift in our own decimation.

He stills, but my hips have a mind of their own, rolling against him as we’re both reduced to ash.

You are dust, and unto dust you shall return.

Time ceases to exist, and by the time we both regain clarity, we’re panting and trembling with aftershocks. My cheeks are wet with tears, still leaking from my eyes as I attempt to catch my breath. But I can’t. Not with the sobs racking my bruised throat.

Zade loops his arm around my neck, holding me to him tightly as we both try to come back down from… whatever the fuck that was.

“I love you, too,” he rasps.

Every day, we come a little closer to death—our bodies deteriorating just a little more. And if this is what dying feels like, then I never want to feel anything else.