I feel sick to my stomach, the contents percolating and threatening to come up at any fucking second. My skin is clammy as I squeeze my eyelids shut to ward off the haunting images.
Someone tried to kill me.
Someone tried to kill me.
Someone tried to kill me.
Why is that macabre sentence beginning to sound normal? Is that the direction my life is heading?
My breaths saw in and out as I hurry across the road.
Someone tried to kill me
Someone tried to kill me.
Someone tried to kill me.
A-fucking-gain.
I hope that asshole is still lying on the ground in agony. I hope he’s never able to procreate ever again. Besides, what lady would ever love a stone-cold killer like him? He’s probably not able to get laid to save his fucking life.
That internal rant makes me feel slightly better.
Up ahead, the sky continues to darken as a beautiful moon illuminates the sky. It appears to be…red, almost as if the sky is weeping blood. Darker splotches of garnet are intermixed with the lighter shade.
It’s beautiful. Eerie, almost. Malevolent. Something about the moon makes me pause, tilting my head towards the sky and squeezing my eyelids shut. I can almost physically feel the moonbeams on my face, as pronounced as sunrays. It’s an intoxicating sensation, power seeping through my skin and setting me aflame.
And then, pain.
It explodes throughout my body like errant fireworks. When one stops, another begins, until I’m practically drowning in it. It feels as if someone has twisted my insides into dozens of intricate knots. My skin is dancing like fire ants are racing to and fro. I scratch at my arms desperately, attempting to dispel the pain radiating down the sensitive limbs. My skin feels too hot, too heated, as if someone has doused me in gasoline and then lit a match. Am I on fire? Did the mysterious bomber come back and finally kill me?
Pain.
So. Much. Pain.
Darkness closes in on me, and I don’t even bother trying to resist it. Instead, I accept it graciously as I surrender, losing myself to wave after wave of endless night.
“ARE you assholes going to give me an orgasm, or just sit there measuring dicks all night?” I drawl sarcastically as I lean back in my high-backed chair. Or as I like to call it, my throne.
Desmond lifts a dark brow as he runs a hand through his shoulder-length hair.
“The only person who’s allowed near my dick with a measuring tape is you, Em,” he says immediately, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“You just wish my hands would touch your cock,” Avery counters immediately. His blond hair is brushed away from his forehead this morning, and his golden chest is on display. As well as his golden cock, already hard and dripping with pre-cum.
“Fuck all of you,” Tate quips, flashing them his middle finger. “We all know my cock is bigger.” The last words are said in a grumble. Tate tries to act like the moodiest bastard around, but that’s just a front. He’s actually a pretty big sweetheart…when he’s not trying to kill you.
Though he tries to kill me a lot, actually. It’s our kink.
Helio snorts a laugh from where he stands in the corner of my throne room. He only wears a pair of gray sweatpants, currently riding low on his hips. He’s the biggest of my men, with pitch-black hair and a scruffy beard. Tattoos line his arms and upper chest, somehow emphasizing his bad boy appearance.
“Someone please put their dick in me,” I beg, extending my legs so they can see how wet I already am. How needy. “Or two. Or three. I’m not picky.”
Desmond chuckles, and Avery rolls his eyes indulgently. Helio just stares at me with eyes so dark, they could be portals to hell themselves.
“Where the fuck is Arsin?” I ask at last, unable to find the God of Flames and my fifth lover.
As one, the rest of the men turn towards the ceiling where, lo and behold, my eccentric lover perches on a sex swing twenty feet above the ground. He cackles when he meets my eyes, lowering himself onto his stomach so his cock is clearly visible. When he begins to rock his body in an attempt to swing, his cock bobs, and I can’t help but lick my lips with the intense, uncontrollable desire to taste him.
“Fucking crazy asshole,” Tate murmurs under his breath, rolling his eyes to the heavens. Which is ironic, considering we’re currently residing in it.
“Hurry up and make love to me. Before Rebecca returns,” I plead, flicking my gaze towards the door to the throne room. My best friend—and the Goddess of Organization, no joke—is attempting to find a color-coordinated planner. And no, I’m not making that up. At this point, I just let her go crazy, knowing that the hour she’s away is precious time I can spend with my mates.
If, of course, they stop being dicks and give me dicks. I have three holes and two hands; they’re more than welcome to choose any of them.
With a chuckle, Desmond grabs me first and begins to kiss me passionately before pulling away. Avery doesn’t waste any time before sticking his tongue in my aching slit. Helio moves to one side of me to play with my breasts while Tate—greedy bastard—dangles his cock just above my parted lips. I have no idea where Arsin went—probably lurking in the corner, jacking off—but I don’t care.
I have my men by my side, loving me and cherishing me, and nothing can ruin the bliss surging through me. Absolutely nothing.
I’m the Goddess of Pain, and I’m the happiest bitch alive.
CHAPTER 8
I wake with my head pounding and my eyes swollen from tears.
Groaning, I blink drowsily until I’m able to orient myself with my surroundings. Where am I?
Wait.
Awareness rushes through me,
