Page 79 of Razors & Ruin

“Ow, you fucking savage!” I glare at him over my shoulder. “Make me come again. Fill me up.”

His growl vibrates through the room, and his hands are on my hips, gripping me so tightly that I’m sure they’ll leave yet more bruises.

But I welcome it—the marks, the proof of his devotion imprinted on my skin.

He doesn’t wait, doesn’t ask. He drives into me with one hard stroke, filling me completely, and I cry out, my hands gripping the bed sheets so hard I think they might tear.

“That’s right, Nellie,” he says. “This is fuckingit. No lies. No ghosts. Just flesh and blood.”

He pounds into me, harder and deeper, and I meet every thrust, my body greedily taking everything he gives. Each slap of his hips against my arse sends shockwaves through me, and I’m gasping, my heart racing, body burning.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he grunts, and I’m so close, on the edge of falling apart. “You want that? You want me to destroy you?”

“Yes,” I moan, my voice barely more than a breath. “Yes, Sweeney. Take it all.”

He reaches around, his fingers finding my clit again, and that’s it—I shatter. The orgasm rips through me, violent and raw, my body trembling as I scream his name.

“Fuck, yes,” he growls, his pace quickening, his hips slamming into me. I feel him pulse inside me, his body tensing as he reaches his peak, and then he comes, hot and deep, filling me completely.

We collapse in a heap of tangled limbs and sweat, our bodies spent. The taste of him lingers on my lips, his scent clinging to my skin.

He rolls off me, panting, and I stare up at the ceiling, my body now aching in the best possible way. His hand finds mine, and I grip it tightly.

“Tell me again,” I whisper.

He pulls me against him, his breath hot against my ear. “I love you, Nellie. You’re it. Everything.”

At last, it’s true.

The monster is finally on a leash, andI’mthe one holding it.

40

Early next morning…

Sweeney

Ilet myself in quietly and sit by the fire for a spell, letting it warm my limbs before I get back in bed with Nellie.

If she rolls into my arms and finds me cold, she’ll want to know why, and I’d rather it was a surprise.

By the time she finally stirs, I’ve been awake for hours.

“Good morning, treacle.” I kiss her nose. “How’s tricks?”

“I feel like I could sleep for a thousand years more,” she says, stretching as she stands. “I can’t believe how long it took to get rid of everything. Fuckinghourswe were at it.”

She’s not wrong. Hundreds of pies and God knows how much disgusting shit had to be disposed of, hidden or cleaned.

We bagged up the savories and took the cart along one of the less-traveled riverside roads to dump them in the Thames, but the identifiable junk went up the chimney.

“Yeah, but it’s spotless now.” I look her over. “Unlike you and me. Stateless, we are. Time for a bath.”

I lead her downstairs. The bakehouse oven burned all night, and I tut as I rake out the cinders. The Beadle’s gold teeth smile at me from the tray, surrounded by greasy ash.

“What are you grinning at, fuckface?” I ask, picking them up.

“You got what you deserved in this life. I commend you to The Devil and hope he’s already got your fat arsehole wedged onto a sharp spike.”