Dead Man Walking (The Fallen Men #6) - Giana Darling Page 0,54
me with knife points of iced rain.
I didn’t move.
I watched so hard my eyes burned.
Bea brushed her hair away from her chest, revealing the soft, small slopes of her breasts and those hard nipples I ached to feel under my teeth.
A growl was in my throat, rumbling through me.
That monster, that beast, that thing that was not human inside me roared and roared.
Take her, take her, take her.
Ruin, ruin, ruin.
All I could picture was her virgin blood on my skin, my cock messy with her juices. All I could think of was how much dirtier I could make her. I wanted to paint her sweet face in my cum, bite into her pale skin until it bruised like a peach, and slick my sweat-oiled body over hers until she reeked of me, of us.
I gnashed my teeth together, the pain grounding me.
Then she moved again, so sweetly, so hesitant, so goddamn virginal. One small hand moved up from her belly, between her breasts then back down all the way beyond my sight, beneath the window frame to rest only her God––the lucky fucking bastard––knew where.
I pulled out the switchblade in my pocket and dug the end into the center of my palm, hoping it would calm me, call me back to rationality.
Fuck, but the pain only reminded me that hurt could be good, that there was pleasure in it and that my sweet little Bea didn’t know that yet, but I could show her.
I could teach her.
No, not teach, I wasn’t patient enough for that.
I would show her by example, take her there so she could see for herself just how good I could make her feel when I did bad things to her pretty flesh.
Courageous now, knowing she had me like a fish tugging at the line, she reeled me in. One step closer to the glass, her breasts pressed flush to the cold pane, bringing their round shape and darker tips into clearer definition.
I was moving.
My boots struck hard against the wet sand, kicking it up behind me as I stalked across the grains onto the rocks, then onto the beaten path up to Z’s house. It was alarmed and locked, obviously, but I didn’t care.
Bea would have to have been in Fort fucking Knox to keep me from breaking in and taking her.
I paced to the side of the house, studied which route I would take, then swung up onto the porch railing, grabbed the edge of the eaves in both hands and pulled myself onto the steep roof. The tiles were slick under my heavy boots, but I focused on the window I knew lay around the side of the house, the window where Bea stood naked for me, and I made quick work of the walk.
The hard part was falling off the side of the porch roof at the right angle to catch the windowpane in a good grip.
I didn’t think about it, not discernably.
I just fell.
It was calculated, but Bea didn’t know that. The yip of her anxious squeak reached me through the glass just as I caught the jutting edge of the pane in one hand and adjusted to pull myself up with two. I held myself on my palms, arms popping with strain as I stared into the glass at Bea’s startled face.
“Boo,” I said, mouthing it dramatically in case she couldn’t hear me over the clatter of wind.
Her frozen, anxious expression cracked down the middle and gave way to that smile that lit me up from the inside out.
“Open it,” I told her. I was stronger than most, but the buffeting wind and the awkward angle of the ledge made it difficult to maintain my position.
Bea’s pink mouth made a little ‘o’ as she scrambled to unlock and raise the window.
I swung into the room, still semi-hard until I smelled the sweet, fruity scent of Bea in the room, and then I was once again stone.
Before she could get a word out, I was stalking toward her.
She stared at me, eyes wide and dark with lust and fear. Instinctively, feeling stalked and vulnerable, she moved backwards across the room.
I smiled wolfishly at her, aware that I was dripping wet, clothed head to toe in black, and prowling toward her like a predator. I didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t. Not even if Zeus barged in with his brass knuckles and shotgun.
I’d gladly take buckshot in the ass if it meant I could just touch Bea for one fucking glorious second.