Soulless (Starcrossed Lovers Trilogy 2)

That made me smirk right back at him. It was one of the few things we had in common. I too had been a fuck-up since the day I was born.

Everyone else in my family had been in their billionaire childhood dreams, and I’d been drifting along the side lines, focused on the shadows at the edges. Maybe that’s why the evil men had picked me out of the Constantine girls for their sick thrills. Maybe I was asking for it with my weird little ways right from the start.

My bleeding tongue was throbbing. I rubbed my mouth on the back of my hand and there was a smear of red. Still, I didn’t care. I really was a crazy bitch with all my parts jarred together.

I’d have happily stayed there for a sick, twisted lifetime, pinned by the filthy fuck-up at the counter top, but no. He had other plans.

His grip was firm on the back of my hair as he spun me around and shoved me back through to the hallway.

“Let the games begin,” he said.4LucianI shouldn’t have been anywhere near that place. I should’ve been busy in the city, focusing my attention on worthwhile Morelli affairs. Still, should’ve was having less and less relevance around the silly little bitch I was toying with.

Her blood was still beautifully metallic in my mouth as I shunted her through to the hallway and onwards, right through to the small lounge of the property. I knew she was amazed by the shithole on my portfolio. It gave me a disgusting regret at bringing her out here, as though her eyes were peering inside me somehow. I should’ve settled for a brief intense spell at city central. Should’ve, should’ve, fucking should’ve.

I only switched on a lamp, illuminating her just enough to give her a sweet golden sheen.

“Strip,” I told her, and she spun to face me, fixing me in that pretty gaze of hers.

This time she didn’t even attempt to argue with me. She slipped her dress straps from her shoulders with her lips pursed tight, trying to hold out the fuck you in her stare. She failed to hide the truth of it, even though her whole body was lying. She was scared. Really fucking scared.

My mouth watered at the thought of her heart racing in her ribs and her stomach fluttering, nervous.

I wanted to feel her breaths quick and hot against me as I played with her, but I held back, stoic and firm as I folded my arms across my chest.

“Strip for me,” I told her again.

She let the dress slip down to show her bra, perfect in its lacy white sweetness. Her hips held barely any resistance, letting the fabric slide right down her legs to the floor. White panties. Sweet little white panties.

Jesus Christ, I was going to enjoy them.

She was already reaching around for her bra clip when I barked out a no to her.

She flinched then paused, eyes wide.

“Not yet,” I growled. “Stand still like a good girl.”

She stood still, but her expression wasn’t anything like a good girl. There was a mist of hate about her, along with her fear. Fear and want. She wanted me, but hated it. Just like I wanted her, but hated it just as much.

I had the whole Morelli vendetta at my fingertips, ready to be exploited. I had decades of disgust at her family line there for the retribution. I was going to fucking enjoy it.

I made her stand for long slow minutes, loving how she shuffled more and more as I stared at her. She was getting agitated along with nervous, until she finally wrapped her arms around herself and found her voice.

“Well, are you going to do something to me then or what?”

Crazily, no I wasn’t. I smirked as I told her so.

“Not yet, dolly. Your whole purpose is my amusement. I’m going to savor every second.”

She sighed at me, feigning a whole new flash of confidence.

“Boring, then. Great. May as well have scoffed down the tablets and fucked off out of life before you showed up.”

I had a sick adoration of these different sides to the butterfly, so many colors on her wings flashing bright. Her fears, her secrets, her need to be a good little girl. Her self-hate, her self-harm, her sad little desire to move on from her upbringing and its bullshit – saving those addicts from the Power Brothers. Her mother wouldn’t piss on any of them if they were burning, much less allow her daughter to vouch for their debts. But Elaine knew that, too. She knew it and went against her family’s will.

I was fascinated by Elaine Constantine and the spark of a woman she was amongst her weaknesses. The girl who still had that zing of herself in the ocean of shit she’d been wading in for years.