Sick Twisted Minds (Cruel Black Hearts Book 3) Page 8

  “Stella,” he whispered my name, the lone word sending a chill down my spine. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” As he spoke, he ran his hands up my sides, stopping only when he cupped both breasts, palms grazing over my pebbled nipples.

  I involuntarily arched my back, closing my eyes at the sensation of his hands eating me up.

  He lowered his head between my breasts, his breath hot on my skin. He kissed the side of my right breast, murmuring, “It’s always been you. Only you. You’re it.” Words that, at one point in time, would not have meant much to me if he’d said them, but now, here—they meant so much more.

  He was my Angel Maker, and I was his. His only. His angel. His inspiration.

  His mouth moved to the nearest nipple, taking it into his mouth. Killian could play me like a fiddle. A very hot and bothered fiddle that would bend to any will he had. His tongue swirled around my nipple, teeth grazing the tip and sending a wave of pleasure through me, so strong I could feel it in every part of me. Oh, yes. I wanted more of that.

  He paid as much attention to the other nipple as he did the first, and the moment his mouth left my right breast, I felt its immeasurable loss. Not for long, though, for his hand began to tweak and tug, keeping the sensation his mouth had started alive on the first breast while he went to work on the second.

  A breathy sigh escaped me. It took all of my focus to remember to breathe while he was doing this to me. It was a good thing I wasn’t watching him work on me, otherwise I would have lost what little sanity I had left—and that wasn’t saying much, unfortunately.

  Killian’s lips left my nipple, crashing against mine. He took me, shook me, got all he wanted from me, and I freely gave it to him. I’d give myself to him again and again, as many times as he’d have me. I was done being the meek little Stella; I wanted to be the vixen Stella, the temptress Stella. I wanted to drive him crazy the same way he drove me crazy. Was it so wrong of me?

  His musky scent filled my nose as his tongue crept into my mouth, tangling with mine in an eternal tug of war. Who would win—Killian or me? I’d bet, hands down, we both would. There would be no losers here. Not today. Not tonight. Tonight was for the winners, and right now, the only winners in the room were us. Edward and Lincoln could go figure out whatever the hell they had to; I was done figuring things out.

  Killian pulled his mouth from mine, trailing his lips, his tongue, and his hot breath down my body, across my stomach, stopping only when he reached my apex. With a pair of calm but firm hands, he spread them apart until I was wide open under him. I wondered if I was as dripping wet as I thought I was. Just the mere fact that he was the Angel Maker turned me on, not to mention the things he’d done to me so far…

  Yes, I was definitely turned the fuck on.

  He slid a hand along me, fingers catching my slickness. Killian let out a guttural sound as my slickness bounced in the air. Yep, I was wet for him. I wanted his cock, his tongue, something down there pleasuring me, and I couldn’t wait much longer.

  Turned out, I didn’t have to wait long.

  Killian’s tongue flicked out, and soon I was drowning in the ecstasy that was him giving me head. He was very good at it. His skilled tongue nearly pushed me over the edge of metaphorical bliss a minute after, as if he knew precisely where to stimulate me to get my best reaction. The moans that left me were some I were not proud of, but I didn’t care. We were alone in this house, because Callie was…

  A knife.

  Blood.

  My hands clenched into fists, and I gasped, causing Killian to withdraw his skilled tongue from me and ask, “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” He licked his lips, and I couldn’t help but watch that tongue.

  “No,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I just…I thought I remembered something, but it’s nothing.” I held a hand to my head, hating how weak I sounded. I didn’t want to be a sniveling wimp; I wanted Killian to view me more of as an equal than someone lesser than him.

  I thought I remembered something. What the hell was I talking about? I didn’t remember shit, just the same bizarre sense of déjà vu that overtook me earlier. The same uneasy feeling that, deep down, I knew something wasn’t right.

  Something wasn’t right, but now was not the time to focus on it. Now was Killian’s time, and I wasn’t about to fuck it up.

  When Killian didn’t move, only stared at me with wide, confused eyes, I said again, “It’s nothing.” Since I’d caught him so off-guard with my actions, I went for his hand. I pulled him to his feet and led him to my room, pushing him onto my bed. If he wouldn’t continue, I would just have to take what I wanted from him, right? It was only fair. I wasn’t about to have this night go by without one of us being fulfilled.

  Preferably both, but I would settle for one.

  I straddled him over the bed, grinding my hips against his hard-on and eliciting a moan from his lips. Whatever gentle and nice guy persona he was trying to play with me? Let’s see how long he could keep it up when I felt like being a wild sex freak.

  Me. A wild sex freak. Who knew?

  “Fuck,” Killian breathed out, placing his hands on my sides, fingertips digging into me. “You know how to drive me crazy, don’t you?” It was a question we both knew the answer to, and before I knew it, he switched our positions so that I was under him and he was above me.

  It was only a minute before his clothes were off and I gazed at him in all his glory. His naked, muscled, fully erect glory. He might not have been as tall as Edward and Lincoln, but he was well-muscled to the point where I could count his abs. Two chiseled lines ran down from the sides of his hips, pointing directly at his cock, which stood ready for me. Ready to be inside of me.

  I leaned up, running my hands flat against his chest, feeling his muscles tighten under me. Killian was not the only one with power here. I had some of my own, and the mere thought made me smile. I liked it. I liked him.

  “My Angel Maker,” I whispered, meeting his eyes. He stood beside the bed, my legs draped over the edge. I blinked, and suddenly my back was on the bed, our mouths connected once again. I adored how Killian reacted when I called him mine. It made me feel all giddy inside, like a fucking schoolgirl and not a twenty-five-year-old woman who was dating three separate killers, two of them usually at once.

  “My Stella,” Killian spoke, his voice ragged and hushed, music to my ears. He ran his fingers through my hair, knotting in its lengths. His green eyes bore down on me as his body did much the same. Prying until he pushed inside of me, my body gave way to his easily, as if my sex was already prepped and ready for him.

  I ran my hands down his back, stopping only when I felt his ass. A strong ass. A killer’s ass. An ass that had done a lot of bad things, I bet. An ass that was currently pummeling me, his dick filling me up to the brim before withdrawing and doing it all over again.

  The feeling of being so close to Killian was one I could hardly describe. It was like I’d finally reached the pinnacle of what I was meant to achieve, the greatest thing I could ever hope to be a part of. The Angel Maker in all of his bloody glory. We were a pair made in hell, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Killian held me close to his chest as he pumped in and out of me, his arms like a cage. It was one I would never try to escape from, not again. I’d learned my lesson. I was here to stay, and I hoped he was, too. I didn’t think I could handle my life if Killian decided I wasn’t good for him, if he took to walking away from me. I didn’t want a life like that.

  The only life I wanted was one with him in it. Him, Edward, and Lincoln. I would give none of my three psychos up; they were all mine, and I was theirs, whether they got along or not. If that meant I had to have separate date nights with them until the day we all died, so be it. I’d make that sacrifice. My libido would never know rest again.

  I lost myself in the waves of pleasure cascading over me. Like a wave in a storm, he had me. Me being the wave and Killian the storm. We were a perfect m
atch. Why the hell had I never noticed it before? Why did it take me this long to realize the truth?

  The pressure built inside of me, and I surrendered to it utterly and completely. An orgasm ripped through me, almost violent in its arrival. My body trembled and I cried out, scratching at his back, needing to do something besides arch my spine and tense my toes. All the while, as the orgasm swept through me, Killian watched me, never slowing, his dick never letting up.

  Good, because I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted this orgasm to be the first of many, and I wanted to go all night long.

  “Don’t stop,” I whispered, feeling the sweat pool on my brow. I practically begged him to keep going, but I knew his body would betray him eventually. He would come just as I had, squirting his seed inside me, permanently marking me as his. I felt my inner walls clench in anticipation of it, and I heard him groan above me.

  “Fuck,” he swore, “you’ll make it impossible for me to keep going if you do that.”

  I started laughing, and he grinned down at me, his hips still working, his dick still sliding in and out of me with ease. Each time he left, I felt empty. It was a long two seconds before he filled me back up, every single time. When our eyes locked, I asked, “Do you want to come to my sister’s wedding with me?” I couldn’t say why I asked him then; maybe because I wanted this moment to last longer, to make him last longer, and asking him to be a date to a wedding was sure to do just that.

  I’d planned on asking Edward and Lincoln, mostly Edward, but they kind of upset me tonight. Surely they wouldn’t be angry if I took Killian instead? Of course I’d tell them about it, let them know that we’d be out of town that night; I’d never keep it a secret, but those guys kind of deserved to be left in the dust, at least for a while, until they made it up to me.

  Killian slowed his thrusting, his dick inside me when he asked, “You’re asking me to be your date?” He seemed quite flabbergasted, considering we were in the middle of fucking. “You’re sure you don’t want Edward or Lincoln?”

  Why would he bring them up now? Was he worried I would regret my choice?

  I tried not to let my wandering mind reveal itself as I said, “Yes, I’m sure. I’m asking you.” I waited a moment before saying, “And who said you could stop?”

  He let out a chuckle, starting to move his hips to his own rhythm once again, his cock gliding inside me, filling me up to the brim. “Yes,” Killian whispered, meeting my mouth with his. “Yes, I’ll go with you, so long as those other two don’t kill me for it.” He smirked against my lips, a very Lincoln-like move, and I resisted my urge to smack him.

  “None of you will be killing the other,” I said, grabbing the sides of his face and running my fingers through his red hair. “Unless I say so.” With a pause, I added quickly, “Joking. I’m joking.”

  Killian kept grinning as he thrust deep within me, making me cry out with the sudden movement. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you joke before, Stella. I’m seeing a whole new side of you…” His lips lowered to my ear, brushing against skin that normally saw no use. “I love it.”

  Love. He said love.

  I knew it didn’t mean he was in love with me, but it was a nice thing to hear, and an even better thing to think of while we had sex. I struggled with my deep, intense feelings for these guys for so long it felt like, and to hear him say that word, even though it didn’t mean what I wanted it to mean, made me warm in places his dick couldn’t reach.

  His thrusting grew rapid and fast, the small bit of roughness he allowed himself to show me as he reached his apex. The height of his bodily pleasure. An orgasm swept through him, racking his body in sweat and tensing his muscles. He nearly fell on top of me as he groaned, his seed coating my inner walls, filling me up further before he sluggishly withdrew himself from me, kissing my neck as he went.

  We lay there for a bit, until I suddenly remembered I never told my mother who I was bringing. She was going to kill me for getting back to her this late, but whatever. I really didn’t give a shit about my mother or whether I was late or not. She was lucky she was getting any answer from me.

  “Will you get my phone?” I asked, mostly out of breath as I pointed to my phone on the dresser on the opposite wall. I’d left it there after calling him; I bet there was a lot of missed messages and calls from my mother wondering who my date was going to be. Would I listen to them? Nah. Why waste the time when I already knew what they’d say?

  “Moving on already?” Killian grinned, pushing himself off the bed, his cock still semi-erect as he went for it.

  Once I had it in my hands, I gave him a look. An exaggeratedly annoyed look. “I have to tell my mom I’m bringing you to the rehearsal. And the wedding, as long as you behave yourself.”

  Killian watched me as I typed out the message to my mother with fast fingers. “Are you sure you want me to be your date?”

  “I asked you, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, but I just don’t want there to be any tension between me and the others.” Killian paused. “Any more tension than there already is, I mean.”

  “They’re big boys. They’ll be fine.” I dropped my phone on the bed, turning as I curled up into his chest, feeling his heat envelop me. “Besides,” I spoke into his skin, “everyone will have the chance to cool off at dinner tomorrow.” I knew dinner with the other guys was the last thing Killian wanted, but he said nothing, only holding me closer, burying his nose in my hair.

  We lost ourselves in each other’s bodies that night, becoming slaves to our fiery, heated passion. Killian held me close afterwards, a cuddler, of all things. Who would have ever guessed the Angel Maker was a cuddler? I sure as hell would not have, but then again, I’d fallen for the masquerade Killian had shown the world, too. I was just like everyone else in that regard.

  Funny, because being just like everyone else was never something I’d thought about myself. Each time I thought about how different I was, how I wasn’t like other girls—and now, not like other women—I never meant it in the I-like-books-and-videogames way that TV shows always seem to highlight. I meant it figuratively. Spiritually, almost. Not that I believed in God.

  I wasn’t like other women because I had always felt distant. Like I wasn’t a part of my own life. Half the time, it felt like I was watching a movie in front of me, that I was a passenger and not the conductor, helpless to do anything to change the scenes before me. Until recently, I didn’t know what true happiness felt like, how content I could be in my own skin.

  Was this how other people felt? Loved and accepted? It blew my mind that people could feel like this all the time. Strange, fragile, but it was nice. I liked it.

  I didn’t want this newfound happiness of mine to end.

  Chapter Eleven - Stella

  I left work a bit early the next day, as I finished my article and had already sent it in to Killian to be looked over. I had to get back to the house and do some cleaning since I was going to have so much company. Plus, I wanted to be home at a time I wasn’t normally home so I could maybe catch Callie. She couldn’t ignore me forever, could she?

  She very well could. She could move out. She could…

  My legs paused, and I stood motionless on the sidewalk for a minute, gripping my messenger bag. The same uneasy feeling I’d had the day before came over me, a wave of nausea in my gut. Why the hell did I feel like something wasn’t right? What the fuck was I missing here? Why did it feel like there was a part of this I wasn’t understanding?

  I shook it off and headed home. I’d figure it out later, after my life had calmed down somewhat. After my sister’s wedding, which I didn’t even want to go to in the first place. My maid of honor dress had been mailed to me, and it was just as ugly as I remembered it being. I was not looking forward to wearing it. Too flowery, too girly, too bright and hideous—it seriously was the definition of ugly. Maybe I’d do Killian a favor and pluck out his eyes before he saw me in it, because no one should look upon a dress like that with their own tw
o eyes.

  It was really fucking ugly.

  I got home, checked the house, and found no one else inside. Still, Callie’s room looked untouched. Dusty, even. My eyes fell to her phone resting on her laptop, and I wondered why the hell she hadn’t swung by and picked it up. Who went without their cell phone these days?

  I reached for it out of curiosity, tugging it off the charger since it was fully charged. The lock screen appeared, and I swiped, glad she didn’t have a passcode. With the amount of missed calls and unread texts on her phone, it was clear she hadn’t been here in a long while. Some of the messages and calls were from John, I noticed. John, who was now dead. John, who Killian still had to get rid of, because he couldn’t keep a body in his basement freezer forever. I mean, technically I supposed he could, but what if he wanted to move in the future?

  The future. It was a difficult thing for me to think about as I stood in Callie’s room, holding her unused and abandoned phone. Would the guys ever truly get along? Would we all move in together? Would they get tired of me and want nothing more to do with me after a while? And if that happened, would they kill me instead of dump me?

  There was a point in my life, not too long ago, when I would’ve surrendered easily to death. A point where I would have welcomed death’s embrace with wide, open arms. Hell, Lincoln had tried to kill me, and I’d wanted to jump his bones. I did jump his bones. Now, now I felt the peculiar need to stay alive. It was not something I was used to, and I wasn’t sure where the need to be alive had come from.

  Were the guys really making me feel normal?

  I put Callie’s phone down and wandered to the kitchen. There wasn’t too much of a mess to clean, but the house hadn’t been deep-cleaned in a while, and I had a few hours before Edward got off work. We would be having a late dinner tonight, which I was fine with. It meant I got to spend more time with them, make them all see how childish their snickering and bickering was.