Society of Psychos (Dead Men Walking #2)

“Ebony is more my thing,” I shot back, my mind instantly filling with a picture of my little psycho as she moaned beneath the shock of her collar for me.

I swallowed thickly, trying to force the image away but Anastasia was smiling as I focused on her once more, her hand shifting down my body and making me frown before she grasped my dick in her hand and moaned in appreciation. Mostly because for some unknown reason, the thing was rock fucking hard and ready for action.

It definitely wasn’t about her. And I refused to believe that small memory of Spider woulda brought on the straining hard-on so fast, but I had little else to pin it to.

I snatched Anastasia’s throat into my grip and shoved her back, knocking her against the wall of the elevator and snarling at her as her hand fell from my cock and her eyes widened in lustful surprise.

“You’re gonna wanna keep your hands offa me, glove,” I warned.

“I knew you’d be huge,” she panted, not seeming to mind the manhandling so much and I shoved away from her, not liking the way she was looking at me one bit. “You’re the kind of man a girl can feel between her thighs days after the event, aren’t you?”

“I’m the kind of man who doesn’t fuck anyone, so I’d have no idea how long they might feel the after effects for,” I replied, turning my back on her just as the elevator arrived on her floor and stepping out.

“Is that what you like? Purity?” she asked, hurrying after me despite my long stride and running her hand down my arm.

“I’ve warned you not to keep touching me,” I said.

“I can do pure if you like that,” she went on like I hadn’t spoken. “I can do afraid too if that’s what you want? Is it normally your victims who get to enjoy your appetites-”

“No,” I barked, jerking to a halt and rearranging my still rock-solid cock in my pants as the corridor spun a little. Fuck, I was drunk. And whatever high that pill she’d slipped me had been intended to provide was not making an appearance.

Anastasia cocked her head at me like I was a puzzle she was in the midst of solving. She turned to a door before she figured it out though, opening it and ushering me inside.

I was about to tell her goodnight and leave before she asked me another question which could so easily end in her strangulation, but I spotted the enormous aquarium inside her suite before I could get the words out and forgot about them anyway.

“Is it a boy shark?” I asked, heading into the room and walking straight up to the tank.

“I have no idea,” she replied, closing the door to keep me here and following too close behind me.

My damn cock was throbbing now and as I adjusted it again, my thumb rolled over the piercing and I nearly fucking groaned at how good that felt. Jesus. Thoughts of my little psycho dancing for me kept pushing into my mind and I had to fight tooth and claw to deny the memories of her mouth on mine, her legs around my waist, how deeply I’d been tempted to…

I cleared my throat as I tipped my head and watched the shark swim past, ignoring the rest of the lavish suite in favour of trying to spot its penises. I needed facts if I was going to tell Brooklyn about this.

Fuck, I shouldn’t have let myself think about her again.

My cock throbbed and I groaned, fisting it to release some pressure and only making it ache more.

“I see it’s kicking in,” Anastasia purred. “I figured it could be performance anxiety. I know I am fairly intimidating, but I promise, I can be gentle if that’s what you want.”

She moved close and ran a hand down my spine which made my gut knot and twist with imaginable discomfort.

“Viagra?” I guessed on a growl as my dick throbbed again and she smiled like a predator who was inches from its prey.

“Just to help create the right mood.” She shrugged innocently, licking her lips. “It’s just physical, Niall. Why deny yourself? I can be whatever you need me to be. And once you’ve had a taste of me, I know you won’t keep on denying yourself in the future.”

I shook my head, finding the dizziness waiting for me there and cursing my dumb arse for giving in to the temptation of booze. I’d wanted to be able to drive home after this horror show, but I’d allowed the boring personality of my bride to drive me into a drunken stupor, and now look. I was hunting for shark penises in her suite with the hard-on from hell and half a bottle of whiskey swimming merrily in my gut.

“What reason is there to hold back? We’ll be married soon. I’ll be yours to use as you want and I want that too,” she insisted, still stalking me even as I swiped a hand down my face and tried to fight off the effects of the booze so that I could think a little clearer.

She reached for me again, her hand landing on my chest as I cursed, my dick throbbing with urgent need and my mind so muddled that for a second, I let myself consider it.

Would it be so bad to use her when she so clearly wanted me to do so?

Ava’s screams didn’t even start up in my head as I thought about it and Anastasia noticed my hesitation, taking it as encouragement as her fingers rolled down to my belt, making a shudder pass through me which was in no way linked to desire.

No, it wasn’t Ava’s screams that filled my head as I looked at this woman who was supposed to become my next bride. It was thoughts of the girl I’d kept locked in my basement. The way she lit me up like a bonfire, the way she fought against me like a warring tomcat, the depths of her electric eyes and the darkness in her soul which was a match to her onyx hair.

She was the one who I thought of as Anastasia tried to unbuckle my belt and a growl of anger escaped me as I realised what that meant. It was already too fucking late for me when it came to Brooklyn. She was already in too damn deep. I couldn’t cut her out. In fact, I wouldn’t. And I didn’t know what the fuck I was supposed to do about that, but I did know that this Russian bride who I in no way chose for myself was absolutely not the answer.

I shoved away from her, shaking my head as I turned and headed for the door, not even bothering to explain myself as I left her there, yelling my name like she expected me to give in to the power of her seduction.

But I’d already been seduced. And no tiny dresses or pouting lips, or fantasy fulfilling promises or fucking Viagra were going to be calling me away from the one who had me under her damn spell.

I ripped the door open but instead of finding myself in the corridor, I had somehow made my way into an enormous bathroom all decorated in black and gold like a Kardashian had puked all over it.

I turned to leave and found Anastasia racing after me, peeling her dress off as she came and raising her chin as she blocked my exit.

“You’ll feel differently once you’ve had me,” she hissed. “And my men won’t let you out of here until sunrise. So between me and that little happy pill you took earlier, I know you’ll give in eventually. Why not stop fighting it?”

I considered that. Considered fighting my way past a hoard of Russians to escape this place while sporting a massive hard-on. Considered how pissed my pa would be when he found out and the tedious reality of having to listen to him harp on about it for hours on end. Then quickly slammed the bathroom door in her face and locked it.

“What are you doing?” Anastasia yelled from beyond the door and I promptly turned away from it, flicking on the shower so that the sound of it would drown out her continued yells before leaning my back to the wall and unbuckling my pants.

I tugged my aching cock out and groaned as I just gave in to the inevitable, rolling my thumb over the piercing and letting all the thoughts of Brooklyn that I wasn’t supposed to be having come charging into my brain.

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