Razors & Ruin (Rare Horrors #1)

Chapter 26

26

Nellie

I ’m riding high in every sense. Mrs Nellie Todd, that’s me.

I got him. Sweeney Todd is mine .

He works me with his tongue like he’s trying to devour me from the inside out. The man doesn’t give a toss that I’m full of his come; he swirls and sucks it right out of me, his lips full and keen on my clit as he tugs at it.

Dear God. Is this what the unfettered Mr. T will be like?

Beneath me, his chest heaves, the muscles on his arms corded and tight. He grasps the flesh of my buttocks and squeezes hard, his fingertips drawing close to my tiniest, most forbidden spot.

My natural lubrication is flowing again, drenching his face, and he moans.

“You’re trying to drown me,” he says. He lashes my clit again, and I buck against his jaw, seized with ecstasy. “I don’t deserve so good a death.”

My tits are free, peaky in the chilled air, blood congealing on the nicked bone in my neck. The darkening trickles paint my sternum like the bones of a corset, and I reach for my nipples, pinching them hard like my man does.

A bolt of pleasure jackknifes me, like a hotline to my pussy, and I feel a pull deep inside.

Sweeney is tense from head to toe, his thighs flexing as he does his thing. I can’t see him at all—my skirt obscures him completely—but I feel the potent fury coursing through him.

Losing Johanna so suddenly and completely was a killing blow, a lights-out moment. I saw it in his face, his eyes: a perfect storm of thwarted hope blended with blessed solace.

He doesn’t have to resist anymore. Sweeney can close his eyes, throw his arms wide, and fall into my loving arms, secure in the knowledge that I will never turn away.

We’re bound by things we can never undo, a depth of connection like a shared coma. We’re so close to dead, he and I, yet never more alive.

Johanna is nothing . I am everything.

I reach behind me and find him hard as a rock. This man of forty has the cock of a man half his age, and there’s no way I’m complaining. I want it in me.

“Will you fuck me again?” I ask, my words trembling on my lips as he assails my hot little button, tugging it with his teeth.

He appears from beneath the frothy tulle. His face is flushed and shiny with my juice, and he grins like a circus strongman.

“It occurs to me, treacle, that I don’t have a ring for you.” Beneath my skirt, his pinkie finger grazes my arsehole, and I gasp. “But you have one for me.”

He can’t put that thing in my bum. Just…physical laws alone preclude the possibility, surely?

“You’re asking me whether you can fuck me in the arse?”

He looks up at me and cocks his head like a magpie, considering the question. “Actually, no, I’m not asking.”

The room spins crazily as he shifts me. Before I know what’s happening, I’m face down on the dusty floor, the flagstones cold and relentlessly hard beneath my bare chest. I huff air through my mouth, winded by the impact, tasting grit in my throat.

Sweeney is on top of me, his whole weight rendering me immobile. I mewl as he tears the dress away, revealing my bare flesh to his gaze, and he straddles me, slapping my buttocks as hard as he can with both hands.

My scream rings off the walls, and I feel him frantically unbuttoning his trousers, his cock long and hot as he slips into the valley between my cheeks.

“Let’s get that rosebud nice and wet,” he snarls. “It’ll hurt me more than you otherwise. But make no mistake, pet—it will be tough at first. You gonna be my good girl and let me rail your arse?”

I know what he wants.

“No!” I cry, and he unleashes an animal roar of triumph, slapping my ass firmly again as I try to buck him off.

“That’s my good little whore!” His hands are everywhere, his fingers sliding between my slick folds and pulling the wetness into my crack. “I love a fight. You’re hot as all fuck, Nellie. You know I’m a goner for you, right?”

I’m losing my mind. Sweeney’s thumb broaches the tight ring of muscle, and he shoves it inside, flexing his knuckle to work the rim loose. The sensation is obscenely perfect, a fullness I’ve never known, and I roll my hips, urging him deeper.

“It’s not enough, is it?” He extracts his thumb and grasps his cock, rubbing the head against my tiny hole. “Don’t worry. This is happening. But you give me what I want now, like the nasty slut you are, or I’ll make it hurt too much.”

“Oh fuck, Mr. T, the things you say.” I look over my shoulder at him. “You’re so vile.”

“You love it. Ready?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. His hands drop onto my shoulders as he thrusts, and I’m pinned, writhing like an eel as his thick cockhead stretches my tender arsehole wide open.

It burns like Hell, and as I draw in air to power a scream, he claps his hand over my mouth.

“Yes!” he crows, forging deeper. “You pretty bitch. Take it all the way, my love. I know you can.”

My eyes stream with tears, irritated by the dust on the ground. I sob into Sweeney’s palm, and he massages my face gently even as he bottoms out inside me, hissing through his teeth as the ring of muscle grips his cock at the base.

My pussy leaps and clenches jealously, my clit throbbing, and I roll my head from side to side, overwhelmed by searing pleasure and exquisite pain.

Sweeney delves his free hand into my hair, wrapping it around his palm. He tugs my head back until I’m looking at the ceiling, his hand still wrapping my mouth, and begins to fuck me in earnest, withdrawing from my twitching hole before plunging back in, right to the hilt, every time.

My insides feel like they’re scalding, turning to liquid silk as his pre-come adds to my wetness, easing the way.

But I fight. I squirm, trying to pull away because he wants it like that. Any minute now, he will take it up a gear and force me to acquiesce, and that’s when I’ll unravel like a Bedlam hysteric.

“You want to come, don’t you? So do I,” he says, his face close to mine as he pumps his hips, grinding me into the ground. He takes his hand from my mouth. “Tell your man what you need, treacle.”

“My pussy needs something,” I say. “Please.”

He withdraws from me so suddenly and completely that I almost howl with loss. My body feels open , like everything inside could drop out of my needy holes, and as he spins me into his lap, I collapse on his body, tearing at his shirt.

“Steady,” he says, catching my wrists. “Steady, Nellie. You’ll go through my fucking skin.”

He kisses my throat tenderly, and I go limp, folding into his arms. “Now, let me give you what you want.”

His cock nudges my sensitive arsehole, and it’s easier this time; as he slips inside me, his fingertips find my clit, and I melt.

I’ve fallen for a monster . A true-blue, dyed-in-the-wool killer, damned in this life and the next.

But as God is my witness, I am his. Wherever he goes, wherever he takes me, I will go gladly, content to be at his side.

I rest my forehead on his as he screws me, my arms around his neck. His eyes never leave mine; they are fathomless, infinite, and as desolate as oblivion.

So much death and pain he’s wrought, such chaotic fuckery.

I’m so in love.

The skin of my bloodied chest flushes a hot pink as my orgasm gathers in my abdomen, and Sweeney sees it. He steps up the attention on my clit, digging his heels into the ground for leverage so he can get deeper inside me.

“Sing for me,” he whispers, leaning forward so he can bite my ear. “Let me hear my woman’s beautiful voice when she comes on my cock.”

He skewers me firmly, and with a firm press on my tortured clit, I’m undone. I give a sweet, shuddering moan as the tension unspools in my core, a flood of fluid accompanying the release, and Sweeney holds me close as he fills me, his creamy come oozing from my back passage as he pulls his softening cock free.

We sit awhile in the space between heartbeats, coming down from the peak. Sweeney’s body supports me, firm and warm, and I drop my head onto his shoulder like a child.

Then comes the guilt, flooding my senses with shame. What a thing I’ve done, what a foul secret I must now keep.

In this moment of intimacy, fat with love and triumph, a brutal truth threatens to engulf everything that matters to me and snuff out my dreams at the wick.

If Sweeney finds out I wrote the letter, he will kill me.