by Keri Lake
So maybe it’s better I don’t indulge. Not yet, anyway.
I run my finger over her cheek, staring down at her angelic face. I’ve never allowed a woman to sleep in the same bed after sex. Always felt pointless before, particularly as I pay them by the day. But I have to admit, I like being next to her. I like taking care of her, and I particularly like watching her sleep, but it has to come to an end.
Leaning forward, I bury my face in her neck and kiss her there. “Hey, it’s after six.”
She stretches and yawns against me, and I wrap my arm around her stomach, drawing her into me. “I’m going to call Jonah. See if he’ll keep Oli overnight.” Rolling over, she hikes her leg over mine and nuzzles against my chest like a little bird.
A little bird I want to cage and keep for myself.
“I mean, you paid for the room, it’d be a waste to leave after three hours.”
I snort at that, giving her ass a squeeze. “Make your call, then meet me in the shower.”
“Okay.”
Hooking a finger beneath her chin, I tip her head back and kiss her, before sliding out of the bed.
As I head toward the bathroom, I hear the appreciative sound she makes before engaging her brother on the other end of the call.
“Jonah? Hey, any chance you can take Oliver overnight? Something … came up.”
I close out the rest of the conversation and flip on the shower. The three hours was an excuse, originally, to kill time. Keep her occupied. Get some much-needed action after a week of playing monk. But I didn’t bank on enjoying myself. Sex has always been something of a transaction for me. An exchange of goods. Two weeks ago, Nola was nothing but a warm hole where I might bury my cock at some point, if I got bored, but now she’s so much more than that. More than I expected, and I can’t quite wrap my head around it.
I never thought past having her. My fantasies were confined to the two of us in bed. Constantly. But never the life around it.
And her life includes variables that I can’t add to the equation.
Like a kid.
When this job is over, I’m going back to New York. I’ll be swiping criminals up off the streets and torturing them into talking. Not exactly something I’d care to share for Career Day at school.
Nola’s young. No doubt, she’ll want more kids. She’ll want a life and freedom. Things I’ll never be able to promise her in my line of work. There’s a reason The Gallows is comprised of single and divorced men. Families are a liability, a weakness that can totally fuck up a job.
But I can’t let her go now. I’ve had a taste, and as much as I hoped that would be enough, I already know it’s not. She’s mouthwatering, like a forbidden fruit I’ve never had before, but with a pinch of depravity, she’d taste even better.
Steam rolls over the top of the shower, and the door clicks as Nola enters. Arms wrapped around her mid-section, she baffles me. That she would hide a body so perfect, with all her curves and fleshy parts, is beyond me, and as she approaches, I tear her arms away from her, taking a moment to drink her in.
My dick lurches with the visual of her arms strung up over her head, lifting those voluptuous tits where I can suck on them, while she fights to get away.
“When you enter a room, you walk in like you own everything in it. Understand?”
“You’re in here. Does that mean I own you, too?”
I don’t answer that, because no woman has ever owned me. But Nola? She might just be the exception.
I pull her into the shower stall with me, impatient and more forceful than I intend. That’s what she does to me. Every minute I spend with her is precious, like the clock is constantly against me.
24
The Sandman
One week ago …
Clippers snipped over the dried moonflower seeds that were scattered across a tray The Sandman had set atop a wooden workbench. Sweat trickled down his face from the overhead sunlamps beating over top of him. Though highly poisonous, he sometimes brewed the seeds in tea for the hallucinatory effects, similar to taking LSD. Most enjoyable was sitting in his viewing room, with all the pictures he’d collected, and relieving himself to the visuals of his subjects lying helpless and trapped in their latex binds. It’d often helped during the months when his flowers refused to bloom, which dictated the times he’d go in search of another evening companion.
If consumed in high doses, more than just a few seeds, one would fall into an agitated state, which gradually developed into seizures and hyperthermia, ultimately leading to coma and death.
Witnessing each stage of consumption was as beautiful as observing his Queen of the Night bloom. The excitement of watching life fade from their eyes couldn’t be described. The godly power of taking it, claiming it as his own, represented his most ardent fantasy fulfilled.
He dumped the seeds into a jar of water and set them aside.
Vining plants covered up the wall and shelves across from him, in various stages of growth. The prized Queen of the Night in the most spacious pots, among a delicious bone meal and rich compost fertilizer he mixed himself. He’d learned how to encourage blooming in each plant, and kept a steady schedule by constantly repotting and replanting in new pots.
Gathering up the remaining seeds into his palm, he carried them across the room to the bed, where Beth lay entirely incased in clear latex. Only a breathing tube stuck up from the shiny blanket sealed tight to her body.
The Sandman counted the seeds in his hand, making sure there were enough to reach the final stage that time. His last subject, before Marnee, had gotten as far as comatose, before he was forced to extinguish her himself. Twice, he’d missed that glorious bloom of watching their eyes go dull, as he’d been in full-on rapture during Marnee’s death.
No, he’d ensure that Beth would consume enough toxic poison that he wouldn’t miss it. He’d capture it, save it by removing her eyes and storing them where he could look upon them whenever he wished to relive the moment.
“Beth? Can you hear me?”
She nodded, the panic in her eyes a natural reaction. Some had hyperventilated when he’d completely covered them in plastic that way, but he’d assured Beth that she’d have more than enough air to breathe.
“I’m going to send some seeds down into your breathing tube. I want you to prepare your throat to swallow them. They’re completely natural, designed to help you relax. If you remove your mouth from the breathing tube, I’ll be forced to take away the tube all together. Am I clear?”
With her emphatic nod, The Sandman smiled.
“Good girl. Now here comes the first couple of seeds. Are you ready?”
Another nod.
Only dumping the first couple into the tube, he watched her swallow them back easily, never once taking her mouth off the tube.
“Very nice. You’re very talented at swallowing with something sticking out of your mouth, aren’t you?”
Her nervous chuckle vibrated up the breathing tube.
“Now, here are a few more,” he said, and dumped a few more down the breathing tube. Only small bits at a time, giving her a chance to swallow after, until his palm sat empty of the seeds. “You’re going to feel strange in a while, Beth. You may even begin hallucinating. It’s all normal. In the meantime, I’m going to fuck you again. Would you like that?”
Through the plastic, her temples glistened with fallen tears, but she nodded.
“Good, good.” If he timed it right, he could work himself up to climax the moment she took her last breath. And what a glorious moment that would be for him.
After removing the dildo he’d placed inside of her, he lined his latex-clad dick with her entrance and pushed himself inside. He was still somewhat flaccid from the hours before, but just staring down at her face through the plastic, with the scent of latex filling his head, was enough to make him hard again.
Nearly an hour passed. Sweat left him feeling sticky against the latex, his cock going from moments of hardness to softness and back
again. All the while, she whimpered and whined into the breathing tube, until she finally began to struggle. The breathing tube slipped from her mouth as she shook her head beneath the plastic.
“Let me out! Let me out!” Her muffled voice carried an edge of terror that sent slivers of excitement down his spine. “I want out! I want out of here!”
Ah, panic had settled in, thanks to the seeds.
Latex squeaked and rubbed, as he kept on with fucking her, his stomach knotted with the urge to climax, but he wouldn’t.
Her time was coming soon.
He could see the red blush in her cheeks that told him her temperature was elevated.
She hadn’t taken the breathing tube back in, which told him she’d gone delirious, perhaps deep in hallucinations. The struggle of her body moving against him was a small distraction, but one he was willing to endure for a few minutes longer.
The struggle ceased.
Only the rapid rise and fall of her chest could be felt beneath him.
He studied her eyes, the way they stared off at nothing in particular. Mouth gaping, the plastic filled the concave space between her lips, where he pressed his own, in a deep and tender kiss, reveling in the bitter taste of latex against his tongue. Fucking her. Kissing her. He lifted his head and peered into her eyes.
He came hard into the cock sheath, the warmth fisting his tip, as he rocked into her with the final spurts.
She stilled.
He would have her one more time just like that, before taking his mementos.
Finally. His most exhilarating experience yet, but it wouldn’t hold a candle to what he planned next.
Beth was merely a means to an end. Practice.
He’d find one more subject, to be sure he’d perfected the process, and then he’d move on to his ultimate catch. His prized Queen of the Night.
His one true obsession.
Nola Tensley.
I hope you enjoyed the first book of the Sandman Duet! Please consider leaving a review. Long or short, your review is always appreciated, and along with telling a friend about the book, it is the most wonderful gift you can give an author ❤️ Thank you for reading.
Requiem & Reverie (The Sandman Duet, Book Two) releases on May 13, 2019!
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Sneak Peek Requiem & Reverie
Chapter 1
Voss
“I want to show you something,” Carl says. Shadows slice across his face, where he stands alongside my bed. “C’mon.”
The room is dark, and the tone of his voice carries an unsettling edge of amusement that makes me reluctant to do as he says. I follow after him, anyway, even though Grandfather would be furious to know I’ve gotten out of bed, because it’s the lesser of two evils. If I don’t, Carl will take pleasure in tormenting me tomorrow.
We pad down the hallway to the door that leads to the cellar. I never understood why it was located at the end of this particular corridor, when the house holds so many rooms and hallways between the north and south wing. It’s no secret grandfather chooses to keep Carl and me as far away from him as possible, and perhaps this hallway is merely a step up from making us sleep in the cellar itself.
Whispers reach my ear, as I approach the dark door that’s crafted of thick ornate wood. At night, without the hallway lights on, it looks like a vacuous hole that would pull an unsuspecting passerby in and swallow him up.
A faint voice reaches my ears, like a cold breeze across my skin, springing goosebumps. “Don’t let him hurt me.”
Carl opens the door to the cellar, his face still obscured by the darkness, which hides the smile I know is there as he moves aside to let me pass.
With careful steps, I descend the stairs. and the whispers seem to get louder. Or maybe the surrounding emptiness just becomes more pronounced the farther I go, like walking into a tomb.
I follow the sound to a room with empty shelves, where grandfather once kept all his tools and supplies. The place I first watched Carl slice open a baby mouse he found, while it was still alive.
Little light penetrates this room, but I can make out a figure lying on the floor. A girl.
Seems no more than a blink later, and Carl is lying on top of her, driving his hips into her, but his eyes are on me. The wicked grin stretched across his face is a trigger that incites my nerves, urging me to attack. He wraps his hands around her throat, and as I approach, her face slowly comes into view.
Nola.
My blood turns hot, every muscle taut with the anger pumping through my veins. I rush toward him, knocking him off of her, and wrap my arms around his throat.
“She’s mine! Fucking mine!” Digging my fingers into his gullet, I tell myself to end it. Kill him now. How long I’ve fantasized about the moment when I can watch life drain from his body.
“Voss!” he chokes out. “Please!”
His pleas only goad me to press harder, to squeeze every last ounce of breath out of him.
“Voss!” It’s not Carl’s voice, but Nola’s.
The face below me morphs into hers, and the moment I release her throat, her body turns limp. Her head falls to the side, eyes vacant and dull.
A tremble starts deep inside of me and ripples into waves of agony, as I stare down at my hands. My murdering hands.
Requiem & Reverie (The Sandman Duet, Book Two) releases on May 13, 2019
PREORDER
Other Books By Keri Lake
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
RICOCHET
BACKFIRE
INTREPID
BALLISTIC
EROTIC ROMANCE
RIPPLE EFFECT
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
SOUL AVENGED
SOUL RESURRECTED
SOUL ENSLAVED
SOUL REDEEMED
THE FALLEN (A SONS OF WRATH SPINOFF)
DYSTOPIAN ROMANCE
JUNIPER UNRAVELING
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About the Author
Keri Lake is a dark romance writer who specializes in demon wrangling, vengeance dealing and wicked twists. Her stories are gritty, with antiheroes that walk the line of good and bad, and feisty heroines who bring them to their knees. When not penning books, she enjoys spending time with her husband, daughters, and their rebellious Labrador (who doesn’t retrieve a damn thing). She runs on strong coffee and alternative music, loves a good red wine, and has a slight addiction to dark chocolate.
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