Carter gives me a look that says he understands, he’s an artist too, but there’s not really any other option. “That’s the point.”
Using his lighter, he bends down and catches the hem of Emma’s blouse alight. I grab my clothes, and attempt to wipe some of the blood from my body, but he lifts a hand, motioning for me to stop. “Leave it, I want to fuck you like that back at the studio.”
A shiver runs down my spine, and once again, I’m cursing myself for being a slut and at the same time fucking loving it.
Straightening, he pulls me into his arms. “Hey, what’s a little arson between a murderer and her lover?”
“You’re twisted,” I say, kissing his neck as we watch the fire spread, consuming the crazy roommate who stalked me, threatened me and cut me open.
He leans down and nuzzles my hair. “And you love it.”
“I do.”
Epilogue
Three months later...
booms, grabbing my hand and shaking it firmly. I can’t help the smug grin that tugs at my lips, if only he knew they were of his sister-in-law, but Ruby asked me not to tell him. I don’t know why, since he’d already seen me fuck her live on camera, several times, but I wasn’t venturing into their family politics. We were DIX’s hottest couple, the masked master and his very compliant lover, much to Dex’s disappointment.
Ruby stands in front of an image of her breasts, smeared with blood, water running down every curve and dip of her body, mixing with the crimson. It cuts off just above her mouth, and I’m convinced Hugh knows it’s her, but they both prefer to remain in bliss for the sake of her sister, who by the way has a litany of secrets of her own. The words ‘slut’ and ‘mine’ contrast angrily with the fluidity of the image, but it’s beautiful. Raw. And a small part of me is saddened that the words have faded now.
She’s wearing a strapless silver wrap dress that catches in the low lighting, her wig firmly in place, since there are quite a few DIX employees and investors here this evening and she still likes to keep part of her life exclusively for us, not that I mind. I’ve seen her naked, cut open and exposed in a way no one else has. On multiple occasions.
“Is it strange that I’m getting turned on looking at myself?” she muses, bringing a glass of champagne to her lips as she ponders on her exhibitionism kink.
I place a hand at the small of her back and guide her along to the next image, which is another one of her, in her dorm window. The shadows obscure her face, but again, the curves of her body demand the viewers’ attention, lit up by street lamps and moonlight.
“I haven’t seen this one before…” Her voice is breathy as she admires the print.
My hand snakes around to her hip, fingers digging in as I lean closer and murmur, “I took it when you first started working with me.”
Most of this exhibit is her, it’s why I chose to host it in my studio. It gave the images more weight to display them back where we began our journey together. Partners in crime.
Ruby leans into me. “Ahhhh, back when you were stalking me.”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t love it.” My lips brush against her ear as her hand covers mine, lacing her fingers through mine.
“Of course I did.” With a sly grin, she pulls me away from our guests and leads me upstairs to our apartment. I say ‘our’ even though she technically still lives in the dorms, but after the brutal murder of her roommate, she no longer felt safe on campus—at least that’s what she’s told the college. She left out the part where she had been the one to kill her, and the police never once suspected Ruby, especially since I was her alibi, and I had no connections with Emma.
We’d decided to refurbish some of the apartment to make it more open, installing ceiling-to-floor windows that overlooked the studio, something Ruby adored. Particularly on nights like this, where she slides her panties down her legs, lifts her dress around her hips and places her palms against the cool glass.
Gripping the back of her neck, I unbuckle my trousers with my free hand, looking out and down over all the depraved rich people here, appreciating our artful murder as I slam into her from behind.
“Fuck...Carter. Fuck,” she groans as I dominate her body, and she teeters on the edge, half hoping someone looks up and sees us and half praying they don’t.
“Cut me. Hurt me,” she begs, and I smirk before biting down on her shoulder. I’d created a monster. A greedy, bloody, brutal monster.
“We don’t have time for that,” I groan against her skin as I reach around and find her clit with my fingers. “Later,” I promise as her body bucks against mine, desperate for release.
“Carter!” She moans as she comes, and I’m seconds behind, milked by her tight pussy.
We stay, wrapped together for a few moments as we both look over the empire we’re building. Feeding our fetishes and making extortionate amounts of money from it, while fucking and creating art, bound together by the dark secrets we share.
This was more than love, it was obsession. Limerence.
About Alice:
Alice La Roux is a dirty minded, mouthy Welsh author who is still trying to find her genre while dabbling in erotica, fantasy and horror. She owes her husband, best friend and sister everything―without them she wouldn’t be writing. She’s a bookworm who reads anything and everything and is addicted to social media. If you want to stay in touch and get the latest updates (or just see pictures of her dog) then don’t forget to stalk her!
Facebook: www.facebook.com/asmadasAlice/
Instagram: www.instagram.com/alicelaroux/
TikTok: @alicelaroux
Books by Alice:
Master
mybook.to/MasterEzraBlack
Sinclair
mybook.to/SSinclairB
Firebird
mybook.to/Firebird
What he doesn’t know
Kat T. Masen
Prologue
They say of all the human weaknesses, obsession can be the
