The Foiled Plan (War of Sins Book 2)

‘You killed them,’ she finally said, remarking on the obvious. It was rather amusing, and Michele didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the statement.

‘I killed them,’ he repeated, giving her a lopsided smile.

‘For me,’ she whispered in awe, and her gaze slid past him to the mass of corpses lying on the expensive ballroom floor.

Blood oozed from all directions, and the opulence of the room had been turned into a house for the mad—where he was king, and she, his future queen.

‘They insulted you, pet. And when they insult you, they insult me,’ he murmured, leaning in until they were mere breaths apart.

‘You’re not afraid,’ he noted wryly.

She shook her head, though he could see hints of trepidation.

‘Why?’

‘Because it was for me,’ she spoke softly, and in her eyes he saw once more the food his wretched soul was starving for—pure worship.

Tilting his head to the side, he studied her.

She looked exquisite. Like a doll worthy of display, he wanted nothing more than to put her on a pedestal and stare at her when the need arose.

‘You’re so beautiful, pet,’ he whispered, almost in awe.

Sometimes, like the moment at hand, he forgot she was just a means to an end. That she wasn’t his to keep, merely his to defile. He forgot that this was all temporary, and when the time came, he’d have to use her for his last hit.

But he couldn’t bring himself to remember that. Not when she was standing before him like an offering for an errant god.

Her limbs were trembling, he could see that.

For all her outer bravado and her reassuring words, she was afraid.

He supposed that was normal. Who in their right minds would react positively to murder? Even he had, once upon a time, been sensitive to it.

That time had passed, warping him and shaping him into what he was today. He looked like a human, moved like a human and spoke like one. But he’d ceased to be one after years of abuse and watching the world turn its back on him.

Instead, he’d simply turned his back on it, shedding the last of his humanity.

As he looked at her, though, he had the vague feeling there were still remnants of his old self inside of him. Because she made him want to behave in spite of himself.

He regarded her with a melancholic expression. He wished for that too.

But it was too late.

He’d sold his soul.

He’d sold everything that was of value for his revenge.

And soon, he’d sell her out too.

‘Take your clothes off,’ he commanded, taking a step back.

The walls were painted red, the entire room holding tightly onto the cloying smell of death.

Her eyes widened and she instinctively took a step back.

‘Now?’ She asked, biting her lip as her eyes zeroed in on the mess of mangled flesh behind him.

‘Now,’ his voice boomed, his expression serious.

She took a moment before she brought her hands to her back, lowering the zipper on her expensive dress and slowly shimming out of it. Flinging it aside, she stood only in her bra and underwear, her arms going to her midriff in an effort to cover herself.

‘All of it,’ he raised a brow in a quiet dare.

She obeyed, taking everything off and baring herself to him.

She straightened her back, her tits bouncing up. His gaze was immediately drawn to her nipples, those dusty pink peaks that he’d never given much attention before. Suddenly, they intrigued him, making her look more luscious—more appealing than ever.

His eyes trailed down to her slim waist and her shapely hips before settling on the small patch of hair between her legs.

Unnerved by his perusal, she squeezed her thighs together.

‘Don’t,’ he rasped, and in two steps he was in front of her. He brought his hand up, trailing the back of it down her neck and between the valley of her breasts.

He didn’t miss the way she swallowed, the tension between them growing thicker as her fear increased. There was always a certain trepidation within her the moment the clothes came off, and he’d never managed to figure out why.

The pendant with their mixed blood lay heavy against her skin, and the sight of it only made him harder, the idea of their mixed blood getting his cock to swell painfully in his pants.

He’d stopped reacting to death and gore a long time ago. Blood was always the sign of a life lost.

Not this blood.

This was the sign of a life gained. Because he knew he had her in the palm of his hands.

‘Why are you afraid, pet?’ He barked the question.

Odd how she’d barely batted an eye when he’d slaughtered the entire room for her, but now he could see the sheen of sweat on her pale skin, her lower lip trembling with unease.

‘I’m not,’ she shook her head. ‘I’m not afraid of you,’ she whispered, raising her eyes to his.

Such a lovely shade of honey mixed with a hint of green. Had he ever truly stopped to admire the color of her eyes?

‘You are,’ his low voice sent a shiver down her back, her skin pebbling under his touch. ‘Are you afraid of what I’ll do to you?’ He leaned down to murmur in her ear.

‘No,’ she whispered.

His lips pulled into a wide smile as he leaned back.

‘On your knees,’ he ordered her.

Her knees buckled, his words a holy sound that could only be obeyed.

‘Good pet,’ he praised as her hands went directly to his belt, unbuckling it with ease and taking his hard cock out.

Ah, but he didn’t think he’d ever tire of the sight of her like this—obedient, meek, docile.

She wet her lips, the tip of her tongue coming into contact with the head of his cock and making him groan out loud. She opened wider, lathering him in her spit as she took his cock inside her wet, warm mouth.

She worked his cock like she usually did, every movement rehearsed as he’d taught her. Knowing his distaste for surprises, she’d never strayed from her routine.

Yet this time he found that he didn’t want the same old thing. He didn’t want her on her knees, quietly sucking his cock like a trained hooker. He didn’t want her to be obedient and he certainly didn’t want her quiet.

Screams.

He wanted her screams.

Blood.

Mayhem.

Disorder.

For the first time, he considered breaking the routine.

He’d gotten one taste of her destructive emotions, and he realized he couldn’t go on anymore pretending they didn’t exist. Not when they had fascinated him for the first time in his life—truly enthralled him..

Looking down at her servicing him like a robot, his lip turned up in distaste.

He didn’t want her apathy, or her controlled façade.

‘Stop,’ he gritted out, his hand already on her jaw as he kept it locked in place.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent—still innocent.

Not for long.

‘I love you, pet,’ he caressed her cheek, his voice lower and more emotive than before.

A smile of pure satisfaction appeared on her face.

‘I love you too,’ she replied, batting her lashes at him.

‘Go lay there,’ he stepped away, motioning to the pile of dead bodies in the middle of the floor.

He wanted to break her. He was startled by the realization, since that’s what he’d wanted from the beginning. But this time, he wanted to break her. Not for some stupid revenge, or to appease a wounded ego. No, this was for his own selfish reason. He wanted to see her break by his hand, for him and with him.

He wanted to be her salvation and her damnation—her Messiah and her destroyer.

‘But…’ she argued, but one look at his taut features and she didn’t finish her words.

She started to get up, but he had other ideas.

‘Crawl,’ his voice echoed.

He knew his pet wanted to rebel—she wanted to argue. He could see it in the way she pursed her lips, her muscles wound tight with tension. Still, she didn’t. Because she knew he wouldn’t like that.

How long would it take for her to snap out of it? To finally show her real self?

He guessed he was about to find out.

On her hands and knees, she moved slowly towards the pile of dead bodies, the blood on the floor sticking to her skin and painting her all red.

While she was crawling to the center, he took the time to remove the last of his clothes, standing as naked as she was, and just as red.

She reached the mass of corpses, and for a moment she paused, looking back at him. Whatever she saw in his expression made her continue until she was seated on top of the dead flesh—a queen of the dead.

She leaned her back against a corpse, opening herself to him and waiting.

He stalked towards her, ready and anticipating every second of it.

‘Are you ready for my cock, pet?’ he asked as he fisted his length, dropping to his knees in front of her.

Blood splattered all around, and his eyes were on her features, looking for any sign of distress—of rebellion.

Still nothing.

‘Yes,’ she nodded, spreading her thighs to accommodate him.

Wrapping his fingers around her ankles, he suddenly pulled her forward, the blood helping her slide towards him.

‘Beg me,’ he murmured as he placed his palm in the blood before bringing it to her chest, smearing it over her pale skin. ‘Beg me,’ he repeated, waiting for her words.

‘Please fuck me,’ she whispered in a sweet voice—not at all the urgency he wanted to hear.

A wave of anger hit him in the chest, somehow dissatisfied with every little thing she was doing. Digging his fingers into her thighs, he brought her closer to him, impaling her on his cock in one smooth thrust.

Her mouth opened on a ragged moan—one not of pleasure but of pain. He hadn’t tried to make it easier for her, that thought had never crossed his mind. He’d known that she’d be dry as fuck and as he forced his full length inside of her, he could feel her tear around him in an attempt to accommodate his size.

Still, she didn’t scream.

Did she ever?

It wasn’t the first time he’d taken her like this—he’d never bothered with her readiness or with her pleasure before. But it was certainly the first time he wanted a reaction out of her.

The fact that she flattened her lips in a thin line, stifling her cries of pain instead of giving them to him enraged him.

‘Do you like this, pet?’ he asked, retreating all the way before slamming inside her again. ‘Do you like the way my cock is tearing your cunt apart?’

A fake moan escaped her as she pretended to enjoy it, though the corner of her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

At some point, her tears would have aroused him to no end. They would have made him want to make her cry buckets just so he could get some sick satisfaction out of it.

Not now.

He didn’t want her like this. He hated her like this.

And to prove it, he continued to fuck her like he’d never done it before—viciously and out of control.

His hands were digging painfully into her flesh as he slammed her small body down the full length of his cock. Again and again until he could feel his shaft getting chafed from the dryness of her cunt. As he continued to thrust, the tip of his dick hit her cervix in what he knew would be painful for her.

Still, she pretended.

Her hands by her side, she didn’t attempt to touch him—just like she knew she shouldn’t.

Blood and death were everywhere. Still, she didn’t make a sound.

Something broke inside of him.

He didn’t want a lifeless fuck doll. He didn’t want just a hole to stick his dick in. He wanted her—her wildness and her savagery.

He wanted her to bite and scratch him, to yell and curse at him.

Only when he saw pain reflected on her face and in her voice would he be pleased.

Releasing a ragged breath, he stopped, withdrawing from her. Looking between their bodies, he saw the blood at the entrance of her pussy—the same blood that stained his cock.

He’d fucked her so raw, he almost bled her dry.

Yet she didn’t make a sound.

Not. One. Fucking. Sound.

‘Tell me you love me,’ he demanded. ‘Tell me how much you love me, pet.’

‘I love you,’ she wheezed, the mounting pressure inside of her released as she spoke. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling as she looked at him. ‘I love you more than anything,’ she repeated.

The words should have appeased him, but they didn’t.

Bringing his hand to her pussy, he teased her lips, watching her arch her back as he lightly brushed his fingers against her slit. But he didn’t linger. Instead, he tested her entrance.

She was probably sore and hurting, yet she would never admit that to him.

He pushed two fingers inside, carefully studying her expression.

Biting her lip, she held it all in. Especially as he pushed more inside, adding another finger, and then another, until his entire fist was inside of her.

She gasped, her eyes going wide as she fought to calm herself.

‘Does this feel good?’ He cooed, though he knew it must hurt like a bitch.

‘Yes,’ she gave a strained answer.

His nostrils flared as he watched her face—the way she kept trying to pretend everything was alright.

Suddenly, he withdrew. More blood stained his hand, and as he brought it to his mouth for a taste, he held her gaze.

There was something there—something he needed to bring to the surface.

He wanted to see her on the brink, truly on the brink. Just like she’d been on the roof, all fists and violence. He wanted to taste the bitterness of her cries, her fear coupled with her anger. He wanted it all.

But she wasn’t giving it to him.

Holding on to her hips, he had her on her stomach in a smooth move. She gave a startled yelp as she found herself face to face with the unblinking eyes of one of the dead men.

‘I’m going to make you feel even better,’ he leaned over her, his breath on her neck as he trailed his lips on her pristine skin.

She tasted sweet—a sweetness that he wanted to spoil.

Spreading her legs, he pushed his cock inside of her again, this time the blood helping with the friction and easing his way in.

He held tightly on to her small body, one arm snaked across her stomach, the other to her front and across her breasts. He laid his cheek to her back as he slammed his hips forward, the thrust so vicious, it finally made her gasp in pain.

‘Just like this pet,’ he murmured. ‘Feel the way I’m destroying you from the inside. The way my cock is ripping through your pussy.’

Her breathing picked up, and for the first time, she started struggling in his arms. He increased the speed of his thrusts, holding her to him as he pushed his thick length all the way inside of her.

‘Aghh,’ she finally gave a pained cry as he hit a spot deep within her.

Still, she didn’t ask him to stop. She didn’t fight. She merely accepted the pain.

More. He needed more.

Slipping out of her completely, he brought his palms to her ass, spreading her cheeks apart and spitting in her hole.

‘What…’ her voice was barely audible. ‘What… What are you doing?’ she asked, looking over her shoulder, a nervous expression on her face.

‘You’re all mine, aren’t you, pet?’ he asked in a charming voice. ‘You’re all mine to do as I please,’ he continued as he brought his thumb to her tight hole, swirling it around the surface before pushing inside.

She jerked in his arms, trying to get away.

‘Shh, this is mine too,’ he told her, working his thumb in and out of her ass.

‘Michele, please don’t,’ she uttered the words in such a soft voice, he couldn’t help but gaze up.

She was pale, dark circles under her eyes as she regarded him with fear in her eyes.

Finally!

‘You’d dare deny me this?’ his voice boomed, and she jumped, startled. She shook her head, her lips mouthing an inaudible no.

‘Good. Because I own all of you, pet. All. Your mouth is mine, your pussy is mine, and now your ass is mine.’

Removing his thumb, he didn’t give her time to move as he brought the broad head of his cock against her tight ring of muscles, forcefully pushing it in.

Only then did her mouth open on a shrilling scream.

‘It hurts,’ she breathed out, trying to get away from him. Twisting, she brought her fists against his torso in an effort to extricate herself from his grip.

‘Does it?’ he asked, his voice a fake pretense.

Holding tightly on to her hip bones, he didn’t let her move away from him as he forced his dick inside her, inch by inch.

Fuck, but her ass was tight. Tighter than her pussy and he didn’t know how he was going to stop himself from coming. Just the thought of her tight little ass filled with his seed excited him more than ever before.

He continued to push inside of her until his balls slapped against her pussy, his entire length buried in her ass.

She screamed.

A deafening sound that echoed in the great hall. Her arms flailing around, she tried to push him away from her body.

‘That’s it, my sweeting,’ he groaned. ‘Fuck,’ he swore as he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her ass—the last of which he hadn’t claimed from her. Now, it was his.

‘Please stop,’ she cried out, banging her fists against the floor. All in an attempt to get his attention.

What she didn’t realize was that this was what he’d been searching for all along. The high of hearing her scream in pain and fear, and the combination was his new kryptonite.

‘Fight me, pet,’ he told her. ‘Hit me, bite me. Fucking fight me,’ he yelled at her.

Her eyes were wide as she shook her head, unable to comprehend what was happening.

But as he retreated and surged once more, the pain increased tenfold. His palm against her ass cheek, he slapped her, leaving his mark on her—again and again.

This time, she wasn’t subdued.

She started fighting in earnest, moving her legs and twisting around so she could push him off her.

He inhaled deeply, feeling himself complete in a way he never had.

But it still wasn’t enough.

No, he doubted it would ever be enough.

He pulled out, releasing his hold on her. Immediately, she scrambled from him, her eyes wild as she tried to back away.

Unfortunately, there was nowhere to run.

A manic smile on his face, he just watched, wanting to see her next move. And as she rose to her feet and started to dash, he went after her, giving chase.

He allowed her a few steps before he jumped her, tackling her to the ground and knocking the wind out of her.

She was so soft under his hard body, her belly cushioning his erection as he ground it against her. Bringing her small fists against his shoulders, she tried to punch him.

‘Please stop,’ she pleaded with him, her voice cracking. ‘You’re hurting me, Michele,’ she whispered, tears at the corners of her eyes.

‘I can’t stop, pet,’ he told her, easily restraining her. ‘You make me so fucking hot, fuck,’ he cursed as he secured her hips once more, lifting her ass and spreading her cheeks to receive his cock again. Just as tight as before, he couldn’t help the moan that escaped him as he pushed into her,

She yelled. She screamed. She cried.

All music to his ears.

Especially as she started to hit his face.

His cock buried so deep inside of her, he took all she had to give him. He felt his skin give way from her nails, blood reaching the surface and flowing down his face. The bitter taste invaded his mouth and he could barely keep himself from coming.

‘That’s it, pet. Fuck, yes! Hit me,’ he riled her up. ‘Fucking hit me!’ he yelled.

She brought her small hands to his face, slapping him, clawing him, doing everything in her power to get him to stop. But she didn’t realize that was what he wanted—her violence, not her submission.

He wanted to feel her savagery alive, her aggression directed at him as she hurt him just as he hurt her.

Holding tightly onto her hips, he started thrusting, working his own demons into her and wanting her to mirror him and give back as good as she got.

And by God, she didn’t disappoint.

She put all her strength in her punches, kicking against his sternum until he could feel his lungs constricting, his breathing growing labored. Bringing her nails down his chest, she lodged them so deep into his flesh, he thought he saw stars. And as she brought them down, taking skin and flesh with them, he finally felt himself coming.

His balls drew up, his cock swelling in size inside her tight little hole. He quickly withdrew, straddling her waist and fisting his length until he painted her entire face in his seed.

She went still, her eyes wide as she regarded him. Not a few seconds later, her body was racked by tremors, followed by loud, earth-shattering sobs.

There was blood all over her body—both from the others and from her own wounds.

Exhausted, he fell on his back next to her, trying to catch his breath. Looking up at the ceiling, he found an eerie comfort for the first time in his life.

Her sobs continued to echo in the room, before a small word escaped her lips.

‘Why?’

‘Because you’re mine,’ he answered her. ‘And because you love me,’ he continued, turning his head to look at her.

They were both lying on their backs in the middle of the massacre. Two naked bodies among twenty corpses.

Her face was red, blood mixed with tears and cum streaking her cheeks and making her look like an apparition—a stunning apparition.

‘You love me, don’t you?’ He asked, waiting for the confirmation.

She released a resigned hiccup as she continued to look at him, her eyes roving all over his face and down his body—to the wounds she’d inflicted on his chest and the blood she’d personally drawn.

‘I love you,’ she said. ‘But I also hate you.’

The corner of his mouth pulled up. His hand searched hers, threading her fingers through his and holding tightly.

‘You’re not the only one,’ he told her with a rueful smile.