I smirked. “Well, what to do with you now?” I wanted him to feel safe. I wanted him happy, because I wanted to be the one to rip that away from him. I sucked and kissed and made him moan, and got him closer and higher. He pulled on his restraints, moving toward my lips and hands. I raked my nails along his skin, acting like that would be the only punishment he would receive.
Moving to his lips, I pulled his tongue into my mouth then slipped my hand around his cock and rubbed. I leaned in, feeling him hot against me. I tasted him, his unique, spicy scent. Even though I was on top, deciding our movements and actions, his tongue was demanding, lips dominant and ruthless. I nearly melted into him, allowing him to claim and conquer me.
I rubbed against him, losing myself…losing my mind. I was getting lost in a hot, hazy feeling spreading from my core to my limbs.
“Frankie…” Anteros groaned my name, voice hoarse. I blinked, snapping out of it, and pulled back. I stared at him, trying to come back, taking deep breaths. It was like trying to breathe clearly in pollution, in some kind of sensual smog. It had nearly happened again, I’d nearly gotten lost in whatever carnal miasma the man exuded. My entire body throbbed and ached, calling for him. The part of me that existed inside of him now tugged and pulled to be made whole, furious and indignant that I’d broken the connection.
Shaking my head, I reached back into my purse and pulled out part two of the plan. I continued to rub his cock until he was close, keeping him on edge, distracted. Then I released my hand and sat up, still on his chest.
“Only my friends call me Frankie,” I said, repeating what I’d told him the first day. I watched him come out of his lusty delirium, slowly focusing on the item in my hands. I assumed he would fight it, thought he’d try to break out of the restraints, but he never did. That was more terrifying, because he just sat there.
Waiting.
For me.
As if he was telling me he expected this.
I shifted, nerves setting in. I’d expected yelling, screaming, cursing, not this, this calm, cramped silence. I swallowed and adjusted the grip on the item in my hand. This wasn’t part of the official princess plan.
Not the plan that had me finding Nikolai in the middle of the night.
Not the plan that had Gabby meeting me in the park and giving me the rundown about being princess.
Not the plan that had me calling Nikolai before Anteros woke so they could find me in the getaway car.
Not the plan that had Nikolai or Vic or whoever leaving vials of some kind of sedative in Bibles all around New York in hotels where we might spend our night.
Not the plan that was to have been me drugging Anteros and getting out, quietly, before he woke up.
Not that plan.
No, this was my plan. This was the Frankie plan. It was cold metal in my palm. It was revenge.
I gripped the knife I’d stolen from the kitchen and swallowed. I didn’t know what Anteros thought he was playing at by being silent, but I wasn’t going to give in. I’d come this far. Butterflies the size of bats flapped in my stomach, menacing and furious. My hand shook, my palms grew sweaty.
But in my entire life, I’d never wanted anything more.
I needed this.
I pushed back his head and put the knife to his throat. He made no sound as the metal touched his skin, even though it must have been cold, or at least uncomfortable. When choosing the knife, I’d made sure to find the sharpest one. It was a smaller than I’d wanted, only a bit longer than my finger, but it was sharp as sin. I paused just before the steel broke skin and stared deep into his eyes.
He wasn’t even concerned.
In fact, he seemed amused.
Whatever.
I’d never had him at my mercy like this before, and I wanted to get my point across.
“You don’t get to take any more of me,” I hissed. “I get to take you.” He said nothing, just looked at me with that same amused expression. “Do you think this is funny?” I asked. “I have a knife to your throat. I’m going to kill you.” His cheek quirked up even more and his chest moved beneath me, like he was silently laughing. My jaw clenched but I paused, feeling my strength waver. The knife shook in my grasp.
“This isn’t fucking fair!” I sat back, looking at the knife in my hand. My grip loosened further and I focused on that, on the way the metal had looked so powerful and daunting against his skin but it just looked lame in my palm. My gaze flicked to Anteros, where he lay patiently. He was silent, hadn’t even tried to break free, and his scrutinizing, amused stare burned into me.
I thought back to the moment in the library and whispered to myself, “It’s not fair that the man who ruined me is the only one to ever know me.” He laughed, bellowing, sounding so entertained by me and my hurt.
“What?” I practically screamed the words as I snapped back to him, filled with rage, and put the knife to his throat.
“Mio cuore…” he said evenly, soothingly. “That is the only way it can be. It’s not true love unless the person can destroy you completely.” My brow furrowed. Reluctantly I eased back, the knife just at his collarbone now. True love? What the fuck was he talking about? He didn’t love me.
I looked down at him, at the beautiful scars curling along the chest that breathed so even and easy. There was a tug in my chest that screamed of irrevocability. It was as if every time I looked at him, my soul sung in harmony, and every time we were apart, it wept. When I looked back up, the same intense bluegreen gaze studied me. His words affected me, settled in my chest like a hard stone as my eyes got hot and wet. I shook my head.
This was not true love.
This was hate. Pure. Visceral. HATE.
I shoved the knife back against his throat. With a shaky hand, I avoided his dark stare. Do you love me? I flashed my eyes back up to his. The words were on the tip of my tongue. As if he could sense what was happening, his own eyes narrowed, reminding me that it only took a look to probe and completely disarm me. I had a fucking knife and he was tied down, but I was somehow still completely at his mercy. With an unsteady breath, I attempted to take back the power.
“Well, I’m going to start destroying you,” I said, focusing on keeping my voice steady. “Just like you destroyed me. Right now.” It looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. His stare was harsher than words, like fire on my skin. It wasn’t anger; it was knowing. It was him digging into my purpose, and that was so much worse. It was as if he could see something in me that I couldn’t, and his lips were quirked as if he was fucking enjoying this. Blinking, I tried turning back to my task, but I couldn’t focus. My vision blurred and all I wanted to know was the answer to my question.
“You don’t love me,” I said, my voice hardly above a whisper. I could hear the door pushing open behind me and I knew our time was coming to an end. I pushed the knife until I saw blood trickle. Whoever was coming wouldn’t appreciate why I had to do this. I had to finish this now…but then I looked up, caught his stare. Suddenly I was less interested in ending this and more interested in knowing. My grip wavered.
“Do you?” I asked, and I heard the door bang against the wall. There was a brief pause that followed, a half second where I stared into him—his eyes, his lips—trying to find a tick. I was looking for anything that might betray an answer.
“Mio cuore…” he began.
“Oh my God!” Gabby yelled behind me. Her voice broke the spell, interrupting Anteros and catalyzing me back to my cause. Mind games, I reminded myself. This was all just a mind game. Even so, I couldn’t continue. My hand was out of control with its shaking and I could feel the drive disappearing from me. I knew they were mind games, but they were working. My adrenaline was draining.
“We have to go!” Gabby yelled.
“Just a second,” I said over my shoulder. I was going to go deaf from the sound of my heartbeat. My blood rushed so fast I could feel it everywhere, tingling, threatening to pull me down. Spots were filling my view. Anteros’s
stare was iron, probing into my soul like he was daring me to do something with the knife.
I exhaled, sitting back.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill him.
But I also couldn’t just leave without taking something. After everything that had happened, I had to leave him with something. Gabby’s voice was hurried and anxious in my ear, but I moved the knife from his throat and put it to his chest. Pointing it to the skin, I started carving into his flesh. Adrenaline was like electricity in my veins. Pumping and hot. Dangerous and exciting. My fingers blanched with the effort, my skin got sweaty on the handle. My hand shook.
The entire time, I watched him.
He hardly seemed bothered by what I was doing—except for his eyes. The bluegreen irises were shadowed by a heavy brow, searing and scorching their intent into my brain. I swallowed. I would remember that look: pure lust.
When I finished, I sat back. My gut flipped and I gaped at the F I’d just carved into his chest. His face held that same infuriatingly amused expression. I was expecting anger and fury, not this…this carnal hunger. I was expecting this to drive us apart, but beneath his lust was satisfaction. It was as if he was happy I’d done it, as if me carving into him didn’t push us apart, but secured our link even further.
We were in our own world now, Gabby’s voice having been completely drowned out by the rush of my heartbeat. I leaned closer, touching the bloody F on his chest. The pieces of him within me called out, rejoiced. I realized that I was happy, too. I was happy to know that once I left, there was a piece of me stuck on him forever. Anteros had cemented his place inside me, would forever be in my body, my mind, my soul. At least now we were a little closer to even. My fingers continued to caress the F and he made a sound low in his throat, but it wasn’t of anger. It sounded…satisfied. I looked up just in time to hear him speak.
“Yes,” he said. My eyes widened, my chest tightened. Did that mean what I thought it meant?
“Now!” Gabby grabbed my shoulder, tugging me from the bed, and I dropped my hand as if I’d been burned. Without giving Anteros another look, I stumbled out of the doorway.
Epilogue
We ran down the emergency exit stairs, taking them two at a time. It didn’t feel real. After a month, it felt like a dream to be running to freedom. I nearly couldn’t process it. My heart thumped hard in my chest with fear and adrenaline and I kept telling myself to keep running, keep going after Gabby.
That was all I could do to keep from running back.
“Where’s Vic?” I panted, using the railing to jump over more steps. “Or Nikolai?”
“Where’s Vic or Nikolai?” Gabby yelled, throwing a glare at me over her shoulder. “They’re where they’re supposed to be—with a car down in the service parking lot.” We paused to catch our breath and she pushed me. Then she pushed me again. I stumbled back, nearly tripping over the stairs and falling down.
“What the fuck?” I yelled, my voice catching in the stairwell and echoing back the surprise.
“Exactly.” Gabby pushed me again. “You almost blew everything! Do you know what I risked checking on you?” She swallowed. “You were to just inject him and he’d be dead now.”
“He’d be what?” I asked. Dead? He’d be dead? No one had told me that their plan ended with death. At the mention of his death, my stomach flipped and it felt as though everything came to a standstill. Fear. Fear at his death. It shouldn’t have mattered. I’d nearly killed him the night before with a pillow. I’d just had a knife to his throat. Death was the endgame with us.
As princess, I was taking the crown from the Beast, also known as Anteros.
Anteros was to die.
There’s no other ending for our story.
“Now he’s alive and so angry.” Gabby ran her hands over her face then through her hair. “What were you thinking? What were you doing?” I fisted my knuckles, palm slimy with his blood. I was thinking I carved out a piece of him. Forever. I was thinking he’d at least have an inkling of what it felt like to lose parts of yourself to someone else. I was thinking that I was one step closer to evening the sides.
I thought back to the look in his eyes. He wasn’t pissed, but I wasn’t about to tell Gabby that it would have been better if he was.
It’s not true love unless the person can destroy you completely.
I shook my head, ridding myself of the thought. There was no way I could explain that to her.
She threw her hands up. “You were to meet me in the stairs. I waited! I waited and I waited! Do you know what I risked going in that room?”
“So why did you do it?” I snapped.
Her eyebrows shot up, as if surprised at the question. All the frustration and anger dissipated from her features and she asked, “Why do you think?”
I stared into her earnest, honey-colored face, flushed from exertion, dark freckles a contrast against the red. Her gold hair was piled high on her head and she wore some kind of exercise clothes. I’d thought I would have to get out of hell alone, but then Gabby had come along. She was a woman who’d been in hell longer than me, who would have had every right to take the first ticket out without any questions. Now there she was, saying she’d come back, risked her life for me.
Somewhere in hell, I’d found a sister.
A bang sounded above our heads and Gabby and I snapped our heads up, looking between the rows of stairs. Without further conversation we bolted, not stopping until we reached the bottom. Two heavy metal doors marked the exit to the parking lot.
Freedom.
We pushed the doors open with our shoulders. The bright, blinding light of the parking lot hit me first, and I couldn’t see anything, just white. As my eyes slowly adjusted, I looked for Nikolai and Vic…but there was only one person there.
An older woman stood next to a silver car, radiating deadly elegance and poise. Wearing a long double-breasted coat that was like a dress, it somehow also highlighted her breasts in an obvious yet demure way. Big glasses framed a face below very curly silver hair. This was not the type of woman you would say used to be beautiful; this was the type of woman who aged better than those looked when still in their twenties. It was the type of woman I saw when flipping through magazines.
There was a confidence about her that said she knew it, too.
“Where are Vic and Nikolai?” I asked, turning to Gabby. “Who is that?”
“That’s…” Gabby gulped, sounding awed. “That’s Lucia Pavoni.”
The woman smiled. “Hello, granddaughter.”
A Note from the Author
Hey friend!
Are you sitting with your kindle, or nook, or paperback, or possibly pirated copy (hey, not cool, man) and thinking like what the fuck just happened? What was that cliffhanger? I hate cliffhangers. What a bitch!
Me too friend. This was supposed to be one book. I’m serious.
I started writing Beast and though it was going to be two parts, when part one started reaching 100k words I had to step back. I was like ‘bro, come on, how long is this book going to be?’ So I split it into two books. While writing this book I’ve questioned my life a few times. I mean, as a writer you expect your characters to take the wheel, but this was ridiculous. I’d sit down and write thinking, ‘Okay, this is what I’m going to do’ and then the book would tit punch me and tell me how it’s actually going to go.
Frankie & Anteros don’t play along. They do what they want.
This book is the longest book I’ve ever written and it just kept getting longer. Frankie and Anteros’s story—their WORLD—became something I didn’t anticipate.
I absolutely LOVED it though.
I hope you did too! I plan to have the other book out this year because I hate waiting. I have no patience at all, so I can commiserate with you fellow impatient people. If I could write the next book in a day and get it to you guys in two days, I would.
But let’s be real, that would be a really shitty book.
If you really hate w
aiting, join my FB group where we discuss this book and what’s to come for Anteros and Frankie. It will also have exclusive sneak peeks of the upcoming book!
https://www.facebook.com/groups/YouOwnMeMCG/
You can also sign up to be notified for when the next book goes live.
http://www.subscribepage.com/beauty
PS: If you’re wondering what happens to Vic, he actually has his own totally finished series (the Owned series). In the series Lucia and Frankie get a shout out!
xxoo
MCG
www.MaryGebhard.com
Facebook/Twitter/Insta/Pinterest: @marycgebhard
I have a serious addiction to social media, so you’re bound to catch me somewhere.
Acknowledgments
It takes a village to write a book and my village is amazing. Like I said in the dedication, Becca straight up midwifed this book. She saw Beast for what it could be and helped me make it what it was supposed to be, and for that I’m so, so grateful. I fucking love you Becca.
Staci, your heart is bigger than the moon. You genuinely want everyone to succeed along with you and that is rare and wonderful. You’re like an indie book Yoda, you give it to me straight, and girl, you seriously transformed my cover. I went through like twenty different designs before you. K-I-S-S man, K-I-S-S. I love you.
Kristen, you’re my best friend and you’re always there to help. You work so hard and you’re so busy but you still made time to help when once again I couldn’t format my paperback. You are the kindest, sweetest person ever.
My betas are the fucking bomb. You’ve been with me since my first book and are total rock stars. Some of you read this when it was nothing more than ideas, when pages were blank and filled with nothing more than “he will do this.” Phala with Aaly and the Books, Liz with Liza Jane Chronicles, Amanda with Disheveled Books, Katina, and Dayna, I love you guys so much.
I used a new beta this time as well, Chelsea with Love N. Books, and I’m so glad I did because she was awesome and introduced me to the whole Love N. Books team, like Ellie, who proofed this book with an eagle eye.
Beast: A Hate Story, The Beginning Page 39