by Dani René
The saliva that drips from my chin soaks his pants, but Ansel is lost to pleasure. He smiles down at me. “Is this what you wanted?” His question is pure lust, gravel, and craving as he uses me like his own personal toy.
It doesn’t take long for his head to drop back and for the grunt of pure euphoria to fall from his lips. He stills, and I swallow up as much as I can before his hot seed joins the spit coating my chin.
When he finally opens his eyes, he pins me with a glare. “Why do you make me lose control?” He sounds so pained, so broken, but what he doesn’t realize is, I’m broken too.
Or maybe he knows and he’s trying not to break me further. I don’t know, but when Ansel looks at me again, the pain is gone, and he’s calmer now.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he tells me. “But I can’t keep doing this. How am I meant to be with you both?” Ansel reaches for me, pulling me into his lap, and I curl up like a kitten needing the warmth. His arms band around me, holding me against him. I want to snuggle in farther, but it feels strange. I’ve never been someone who craved attention like this.
Yes, I go around and fuck strangers. I enjoy living dangerously, but this is something completely different. It’s emotional, raw. It’s real. And my heart skips a beat when I think about being with him for the rest of my life.
“I just don’t want you to ever forget me if I go,” I tell him in a hushed whisper. “What if one day she’s strong enough and I never come back?”
Ansel presses his lips to my forehead before tilting my chin with his index finger. He makes me look at him, our gazes locked on each other. There’s a small smile on his face, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. He’s so handsome. So perfect.
“I could never forget you. You’re a part of the woman I love. Which makes me a lucky man,” he tells me, causing my brows to furrow in confusion. Why would he be lucky having me and her to love? “Most people only love one person in their whole lives,” Ansel speaks. “But I have two. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Yes, you’re a handful at times, but you’re both in here.” He taps his chest where his heart is beating. My throat clogs with emotion, and I have to swallow back the tears because I can’t allow him to see me cry.
“Do you love her more?” I finally ask the question that’s been on my lips for so long. I don’t expect him to want me more, and I don’t think it would make much difference, but I can’t help but need to know.
“I love you both equally. This isn’t a competition, Rose,” he tells me, but deep down in my gut, I know it is.
Chapter 8
Dear Diary,
The first time my lips met his, I knew it was wrong.
The moment I felt his fingers trace their way over my skin, I didn’t care.
But it wasn’t until I offered my heart that I realized I would never have the one man who took it, held it, and cared for it. And each time I felt him enter a room, it was as if the ghost of his kiss, the memory of his touch, would haunt me with a fiery vengeance.
Darkness holds me close as I stare up at the ceiling. As if he’s hovering over me, his face is there. Even in the blackest parts of the room, the man I love is right here with me. Now, as I trail my fingers over my bared skin, I close my eyes and see him. I picture each stolen moment, every hidden kiss, and every tainted secret.
A tremble skitters down my spine. My core is wet as it pulses, attempting to be filled by him. But he’s not here. Our secret is kept in the darkest recesses of our minds. I smile when my legs splay wider. My fingers whisper over the smooth mound of my body, finding the wetness.
I dip two digits inside me. My free hand wrapping around my throat. I squeeze, just like he does, and my cunt tightens around both fingers. I’m warm, dripping arousal onto my hand.
“Yes.” A hiss falls from my lips—free and unbidden—but needed because it’s him. It’s always been him. Since he walked into my house and offered me a smile. My knees wobble, and my thighs tremble. “Please. Please. Do it to me.” My plea hangs in the dark room. The need unravels me, like a serpent awaking from slumber, and I know soon it will strike.
Chapter 9
Ansel
Yesterday, I should have sent Rose to her room, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Her mouth on me was everything I needed in that moment. But then again, Katya begged me to take her the same way I do Rose.
This fucked-up situation is breaking all my self-control. I always prided myself in my work, but now I know it’s pointless fighting my desire. As I stalk down the hallway, I wonder what I’m going to say to her. I want to tell her I’m ready to take the next step, to be with her in the way she wants me to be, but I don’t know if I’ll find Rose or Katya in that room.
When I reach her door, I unlock it with my keycard before pushing over the threshold and stepping inside the dimly lit room. My gaze flits around the small space, and for a moment, my heart slams against my chest.
Katya is lying on the floor, her body draped in her sheet. Kicking the door shut, I race to her, tugging the material from her body to find her naked. A soft giggle frees itself from her lips.
“I was waiting for you,” she tells me, and I know it’s Katya because of the tone of her voice. I’ve come to learn their nuances. Each personality is different. Where Rose is loud and brash, Katya is sweet and meek.
“Why are you on the floor? Did you hurt yourself? Was Rose here?” The panic in my voice is evident, but when she opens her eyes, and I’m staring into those green depths, I know she’s toying with me.
“I wanted to see if you’d save me.”
“I’ll always save you,” I tell her earnestly. Why on earth would she think otherwise?
“You didn’t fuck her yesterday,” she whispers. Her slender arms wrap around my neck, and I pull her to her feet. Once we’re standing, she looks up at me and then says, “I want you to make me feel what you do to her.” The request is something I’ve been worried about. As much as I try to ensure she’s not overly curious about Rose, I know it must be difficult.
“Why? You’re my good girl. I love that about you. We’re here together, and that’s all that should matter.”
“My mind is broken in two. On the one side, I’m this shy, submissive girl, and on the other, I’m . . .” She shakes her head.
“What? Why are you concerned with—?”
“I want you to want all of me. I don’t want you to need her.”
“I . . .” Even though I want to deny what she’s saying and tell her I don’t need Rose, I know it’s a lie. I crave the sadistic tendencies that seem to appear when Rose pushes my buttons.
“You do need her. I can see it in your eyes.”
I nod slowly. Unsure where to go from here, I’m shocked as shit when Katya steps back and slaps me hard across the face.
“Do it.” Her words are bit out through clenched teeth. She doesn’t relent her attack when small fists slam into my chest. Over and over again. I want to fight it, I want to stop myself, but the moment she lifts her knee, I swipe at it quickly, sending her sprawling on the floor. “I’m her. I’m Rose, so fuck me like you do her.”
The madness in her eyes is volatile, an eruption so clearly waiting to release itself.
“Katya—”
“No! Fuck you! Fuck you, Ansel!” Her screech bounces off the walls, and I can’t stop myself from lunging for her. Katya claws at the smooth floor, but she can’t get away.
I’m losing control with her. The need that trickles through her body is nothing short of perfection. Even after all this time, she’s still like a drug to me. Her wide eyes are locked on mine in challenge.
“You can never deny you need me,” she bites out.
I push away from her, making sure there’s space between us, but the moment I do, I’m craving another taste. She’s right. She is my downfall, and no matter how I try to fight it, I can’t.
“I know you want this, Doctor,” Katya smirks, cupping her tits, holding them up. I want to tie her down, make sure she behave
s. Her eyes shimmer with mischief, and I have to turn away. I leave her at the bookshelf. Settling in the chair, I watch her from a distance.
“You know, this could’ve gone differently, Katya,” I tell her. She’ll calm down, and the moment she does, she’ll be back to normal again . . . or as normal as she can be. I think. But there’s fire dancing in her eyes.
“Fucking do it!” Her shrill scream is enough to have me pressing her onto the mattress without warning. When I land on her, I hear the whoosh of breath that falls from her lips.
My hand slaps over her mouth, holding back those screams and curses. “If you don’t shut the fuck up,” I warn, “I’ll force my cock down your throat until you puke all over me. And then I’ll make you clean it up.” Venom drips from my words. I haven’t been so angry in a long time.
I expect her to shake her head, to plead in stifled mumbles for me to stop, but she laughs. Her chest vibrates with the sound, and her eyes crinkle.
I want to tell her she is the only thing I need, but I can’t because she won’t believe me. Whatever happened from yesterday to tonight must’ve set off alarm bells in her head. Possibly the diary I know Rose likes to write in.
I want to ask, but the moment I utter Rose’s name, Katya will fall back into the dark parts of her mind.
Instead of talking about her alter, I ask the question she’s been deflecting since we met. “Tell me about the day it all changed?” Keeping my voice even, I continue, “It’s the only way we can get to the root of the problem.”
While I speak, my free hand trails between her legs. I find her core wet and warm, and I press my finger onto her clit, circling it slowly, hoping to calm her.
Katya stares at me. She shakes her head no, but I continue teasing her cunt while I speak. “Tell me about it. You need to before I fuck you.” I add in the last part because I want her to confess what happened the night she broke into two. I remove my hand covering her mouth.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she tells me. “It’s not something I wander back to when I’m bored.” She reaches for my face, cupping it in her small hands. She holds onto me as if I were keeping her afloat in the murky depths of her mind.
I slip a finger into her wet heat, slowly, deliberately trying to coax her to speak. She looks at me then, her wide eyes locking on mine.
“I’m never going to have a normal life. Am I, Dr. Sterling?” she asks me in a voice that makes my chest tighten with pain. How do I tell her she’s never going to be cured?
“I wouldn’t say that. Who defines what normal is? I’m here, I love you, and I’m never leaving you,” I confide. “Most women look for a man to love them and never leave them. Isn’t that normal?”
“But I’m so fucking broken.”
“You just need more care than others.” It’s the only explanation I can offer her. It’s definitely not a lie, and she knows it. There is a part of her she can’t control. And she knows that’s the part of her that turns me into a hungry monster. As much as I want to tamp it down, hide it, something about our relationship makes it feel normal.
“And you’ll care for me?” she asks, her eyes wide, pinned on mine.
“I’ll always be here for you. You know there’s no way I can leave you.”
She doesn’t seem convinced, so I add another finger, feeling her warmth coat my hand as I fuck her slowly. Her body starts shaking, trembling with her impending orgasm, and I can’t help but smile as I watch her face.
“I’ll never leave you.” My voice is a mere whisper, one that fans over her lips, and I lean in to place a kiss on them. They’re soft, plump, and so warm I’m tempted to dart my tongue out just to taste her.
“Are you here for me or Rose?” she murmurs against my mouth. Her words are curious, but I note the underlying hint of jealousy in her tone.
“I’m here for you both,” I tell her honestly.
The corner of her mouth kicks into a smile, and she nods. “I suppose I can live with that.”
“Come for me, sweetness, I want to see you come,” I tell her on a smile.
She grips my shoulders, her body locked as she cries out my name again and again. She looks like an angel when she finds euphoria, and I can’t stop myself from shoving down my sweatpants and gripping my cock.
She’s still lost in pleasure when I finally sink myself into her body. She’s tight, just like I knew she would be. It’s the first time I’m fucking Katya when she’s herself. Her eyes snap open when she feels me, and I still, waiting for her to say no or to tell me to stop, but she doesn’t.
I lift my hips before dipping back down. Thrusting so deep inside her I hear the whoosh of her breath each time I’m balls-deep. Fully seated, I stop my movements and allow her to feel me.
“You’re mine. All of you is now mine.”
About Dani
Dani is a USA Today Bestselling Author of a dark and deviant romance. She lives in the picturesque city of Cape Town where wine is plenty and the views are spectacular. She’s also a proud member of the Romance Writer’s Organization of South Africa (ROSA). When she’s not writing, she can be found binge-watching the latest TV series, or working on graphic design.
She has a healthy addiction to reading, tattoos, coffee, and ice cream.
marbh
Anna Edwards
Copyright © 2020 by Anna Edwards.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
www.AuthorAnnaEdwards.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit scenes, adult language, and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase.
Disclaimer: Please do not try any sexual practice without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither the publisher nor the author will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from the use of the information contained in this book.
Editing: Tracy Roelle
Proofreading: Sheena Taylor.
Blurb
Where darkness fears to tread I walk alone, an assassin in the night with a name meaning death to all those I encounter.
My soul destined to drift between reality and blurred lines for eternity because fate destroyed my sanity.
Welcome to my madness.
Marbh is part of the Institute anthology. Six stories, six authors, non-stop madness.
Please note this story does not feature a conventional HEA
“I became a writer so that the voices inside my head would become an acceptable occurrence.”
Janae Mitchell
Chapter 1
Present
“Marbh, we have a few new people here today. Why don’t you tell them a bit about yourself?”
I don’t acknowledge the doctor talking to me. Why should I—he’s keeping me prisoner here. This is all his fault. The mid-forties man with graying temples stares at me, urging me to respond. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. I simply re-arrange my position by crossing my left leg over my right. The long, Gothic styled, black dress I wear rustles in the silence of the room.
“Why don’t you start by telling them the meaning of your name? I’m sure they’ve never heard anything like it before. It’s unique,” Dr. Miller continues and smiles encouragingly.
I slowly raise my right hand in a clenched fist and then show him the middle finger. He sighs with frustration, but it doesn’t bother me. I let out a long yawn and look down at my nails. They used to be really long but were cut short when I came here—well, the ones that were left anyway. Apparently it was fo
r my own protection, but I think more likely it was for theirs. Anything sharp is a weapon to me, and they need to fear it because I’ve got skills they don’t understand and never will.
Dark walls surround us, covered in mottled paint that has seen better days. The overhead lights are dim and remind me of the flickering torches we used for lighting back in the Middle Ages. They assure me this place is clean and well cared for, but I don’t see it—it’s another thing they tell me is purely in my mind. This place is hell, and very few escape from here. I’ll be one of them, though. Nobody can keep me captive for long.
“Marbh, you know you have to participate in these sessions as part of your counseling. If you don’t, it will lead to sanctions, and I’m pretty sure you won’t like that. You have a full complement of benefits at the moment. I wouldn’t want to take them away from you.”
I snort a laugh at the absurdity of his words.
“I wouldn’t call being allowed to help prepare meals and do my own washing a benefit. I’m above all that. It’s work for servants, not for the wife of a Laird.”
“As Marbh is not going to talk about herself then let me tell you about her,” Dr. Miller begins. “She’s one of my more challenging patients, as you can see. She believes she’s roughly five hundred years old. Is that correct or have we aged recently?”
“Fuck you,” I respond with my middle finger again. “You know nothing about me. I’m above you and your insignificance in this world. You’ve none of the skills in life I have. You’re sole purpose is to cause trouble for the people you keep here in this prison against their will.”
My frustration grows at being singled out by the man I think of as my nemesis. He’s a pompous idiot who knows nothing about me. I’m thirty years old and have only known one life—I’m an assassin. It’s what I excel at.