Desire Me

So very like he'd once asked of her: "Zack," Rachel begged, "desire me."

She needn't coerce him, for the only thing that outweighed his insatiable need for blood was the burning lust he withheld for her.

Almost against his will, Zack pulled her closer again, his mouth finding hers however briefly, seemingly almost by accident, though they quickly met again, and again, more fervently and confident with each chance, his darkest impulses overpowering him now more than ever. Ray took his hand in hers, leading him to place his palm on her chest, over her heart, as if to reiterate "I'm still here". Now essentially feeling her up over her ill-fitted nightgown, anything left in the world that dare separate them was little more than a flimsy obstacle to be destroyed, like that damn brick wall the day he swore to God he'd kill her.

Sitting up as she remained in his lap, he frantically unraveled the wraps on his hand as he gripped the hem of her dress, tearing it upwards, and agreeably, Ray lifted her arms as he pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor. Of course, she'd not been wearing anything on her chest underneath, but given how flat she was, it's not like she ever really needed to in the first place. Subtly, her fingertips carded beneath the bandages on his chest, and Zack, recognizing her intentions, full-on gripped a handful, haphazardly tearing them from his person to be forgotten equally.

As they were left skin-to-skin, he all but lost his breath as her comparatively flawless flesh was pressed against his bare chest—her still heart beating against his. His lips ghosted along the length of her neck, to the hollow of her soft cheek, landing on the corner of her mouth—appraising every part of her, this girl, the only thing in the world better than killing. Zack drew her into another lustful, burning kiss, and feeling her even more intimately than ever, he was forcibly reminded by her immature shape of just how young she was, and now more than ever, he couldn't wait for her to grow up.

Literally, morbidly, sickeningly.

He was done waiting.

— Vital, Chapter 17

Before she could even realize it, he swiftly flipped her around so her back was pressed to his chest, and she let out a little gasp in surprise.

"Fuckin' shove it, Ray," he replied in frustration, whispering seductively against the shell of her ear, "you already know I do."

One arm was wrapped tightly around her torso as if restraining her, the other cupping her chest again. Just as exposed as she, Zack didn't feel the need now to shy away from the effect her sitting topless in his lap had on him. Instead, holding her tighter against him, Ray let out a gasp, feeling him clearly despite the stretching fabric separating them. With his grip flexing in intervals, the little buds beneath his fingertips grew harder by his touch, and he could feel her heart beat faster as she tensed slightly, though it only incited him more. Never removing his sly fingers from her body, his hand snaked down her stomach slowly, grazing the lace edge of her panties, trailing farther than ever before.

Ray let out a small breath as his fingertips maneuvered, rubbing her slowly over the fabric.

All the while, she could feel his breath hot against her skin, lips trailing toward the crook of her neck. With his free hand, reaching up and around to the back of her throat, he clumsily fiddled with the claw clasp of the necklace she wore. Knowing him ill-suited to remove it even on a normal day, Ray quickly assisted him in undoing the chain, taking it off, to which Zack quickly sank his sharp teeth into her neck, her soft flesh, causing the darkness in Ray's eyes to grow deep and intense as she wasn't quite sure of what she felt. His tongue flicked along her skin, back and forth, applying pressure too, leaving little darkish marks in his wake. Despite her virtues, she recognized something disgraceful awakening within her, and a part of her—the most sinful part, may have even welcomed it.

Without realizing it, she dropped her beloved, holy cross choker to the ground.

Gradually, he kissed her skin, up her neck, the side of her jaw, and flustered, she peeked over her shoulder as Zack leaned nearer, hastily drawing her lips to his—swirling his tongue around hers with an open mouth. While it caught her more off-guard, she seemed no less welcoming and wanting, reciprocating fully.

Zack, quite literally, kissed young Rachel beyond her wildest fantasies.

It's not like they were at all unfamiliar with one another, but this felt remarkably different than any other time, by the alluring taste, his focused touch—the way it made her feel. Before long, he was almost surprised as he felt a sort of slickness soaking through the barrier between his fingers and her center, to which a devious smirk spread across the lips pressed to hers.

"That's a good girl, Ray."

An even more distant look showed on her heated visage as she tried to peer over her shoulder better, but he restrained her still. "I'm," she panted, seeing his face from the corner of her peripheral, "I'm… a good girl?" she asked genuinely, and he chuckled towards the question, because of course that was what would get her attention.

"Mm, when you wanna be, yeah," when she wasn't acting like a little fucking demon, "and," since she'd been so good, "I'll treat you like one," Zack swore, though it sounded more like a threat, but either way, Ray was too caught up in the feeling to reply (not that she was about to contest him.) Provoking her, he rubbed her harder now, as though proving his point, to which she tried to stifle the small sound reverberating in her throat on reflex, but even as she may have wanted to hide it, he could discern her breath growing heavier. "You don't hafta be quiet, y'know," he reassured her with a huff, voice lowering as he went on, "It's hotter if you're not."

"What," she replied sheepishly, "should I—"

Ray was cut short by her own voice as she couldn't resist the soft, airy moan that resulted as Zack pulled the fabric to the side, the tip of his middle and ring fingers tracing her heated core, skin-to-skin.

He rubbed her silken center, fingertips gliding smoothly on account of the effect he had on her. Though he already knew she'd never been touched this way, Zack had to wonder if she'd ever done something like this on her own, simultaneously knowing she likely hadn't, being who she was. Her breath was heavy as she panted slightly now, and Zack couldn't help but feel satisfied to have her like this. He merely slid along her entrance, knowing a little went a long way with the untouched her.

Momentarily retracting his hand, Ray felt the same viscousness on her lower stomach as Zack's glistening fingertips trailed down, into the front of her panties. His fingers moved against her curiously, inciting Ray to whimper sensually, but only as he landed on a particularly sensitive spot did she let out yet another pleasured exhale. Rachel's hand found itself on his knee, gripping tightly the fabric of his jeans and twisting, and Zack figured he was probably onto something. He could feel her hips bucking lightly against his hand.

"There?" he asked eagerly.

"T-There," she confirmed airily, to which he ambitiously ran his fingers in small, sharp circles, and Ray shuttered with yet another precious sound.

"Like that?"

"Like that," she repeated urgently, and his pace picked up towards one he'd have wanted himself, because, yes, even if he tried to maintain some fleeting moral code before now, he was still a grown-ass man. Yes, he knew how to handle himself, absolutely, he'd done it before.

Maybe even to thoughts of her, too.

But the real deal was far better than he could have ever anticipated—between the way she squirmed slightly in his lap, the little erogenous squelching that came from occasionally dipping to trace her entrance, the soft sounds of arousal that she couldn't restrain. "Zack," she called weakly, and the tone of her voice, begging for his mercy, was almost too much, "Zack…!"

Who would'a thought—Ray Gardner actually had it in her to be this fucking cute.

"What, Ray?" From behind, his voice was hot against her skin, sending chills down her spine. "What do you want?"

On him, her shaking hand shifted to reach back, landing on his hip, over the side of his belt. Zack peered to her curiously as she barely looked over her shoulder to meet his gaze, the timid, desirous look in her dull eyes doing all sorts of horrible things to him. "I," Ray whispered, seeming either shy or reluctant to say what was on her mind, "I want…" she trailed off, and still on his hip, her fingertips tepidly carded past the top of his jeans—to which he fully took her meaning, "to be useful to you."

Zack rose an eyebrow, huffing a laugh against her cheek. It had been a while since he'd heard her say that, and he never would've thought it'd be in regards to this. Removing his hand from her panties, he finally relented and let Ray go with a light shove.

Alright, she asked for it.

"On your knees, then."

She stumbled slightly from his lap, however eagerly doing as told, lowering cautiously to kneel in front of him while he stood. Trying to steady her breath, she gazed up to him with fluttering lashes and reddish cheeks, and the sight alone only made him harder and more anxious for her, were that ever possible.

Never thought he'd see the day when Ray would kneel for any reason other than to pray.

As he frantically undid the clasp of his belt, he was almost surprised as she boldly reached forward, fiddling with the button before dragging down the zipper—though it only served to turn him on more. While he'd not exactly been shy in the first place, truth be told, Zack was much less apprehensive to show this part of himself than he had been his face. After all, it was mostly just the top half of him that'd been burnt to a fuckin' crisp. He hastily began pushing down the top of his jeans alongside his boxers so they hung slack from his hips.

Pulling his hardened length out from the layers of clothing, the stoic, however heated Ray blinked in heavy-lidded curiosity and intrigue.

Needless to say, despite this being both their first time, he probably had a better idea about all of this than she did. Sure, having taken health class, Ray was versed in the biological sense, but, again, being who she was, the passion usually behind it had long escaped her before now—passion, something that dictated Zack's life above almost all else. Most of what she knew came from the media's obsession over the subject, and she'd read a romance novel once before—but other than that, it was largely a whole new experience, and she had to wonder where to start with this kind of thing. From how he handled her, it kind of seemed like Zack just did what he wanted with her, what he thought might get a reaction, so she decided to follow his example, merely doing what came natural.

Reaching out, Ray's little hand wrapped around the base of his shaft; her cheeks grew warmer and warmer as her mouth drew in towards his tip, her breath brushing hot against him eagerly.

Tepidly, her tongue flitted across his sensitive skin.

Inhaling sharply, Zack grit hit teeth, fully reminded just how weak he was for this girl. In turn, Ray recognized a little drop of something slick, and it stuck from his head to the tip of her tongue. The taste was new, but not unpleasant, and before the little string connecting them could dissipate, she licked him again, rolling her tongue over the end this time. Gazing down at the top of her blonde head, Zack couldn't resist the guttural moan echoing deep from his chest, not that he wanted to, and the sound caught Ray's full attention as she peered up slightly.

He was right. It was better when he made noise.

Only motivated more-so, her lips parted thinly as she took him in her mouth. She heard him whisper some soft, frenzied expletive beneath his breath as she swirled around him slowly. Cautiously, she took him deeper in her throat, only able to go half-way, but she figured she must be doing something right, because she felt his hand atop her head, fingertips carded in her hair.

Ray had always liked when he pat her head, but somehow, this gave her a new appreciation for the experience.

She moved back and forth, slow at first, but going a bit faster as she got more comfortable. Zack's breathing grew labored, and gently gripping her golden locks, he helped her keep a steady pace. Realizing she was growing equally breathless, Ray pulled away after a moment, a stringy trail of her saliva falling from her tongue. Panting slightly, she peered to his face, and seeing the little messy droplet at the corner of her mouth made him even hotter for her.

"Like that?" she parroted him innocently, and after a moment, he gave a shaky nod.

"Like that."

Wordlessly, she dove back in, clearly eager to keep going. With an open mouth, she took him deeper still, letting out a little whimper as she did, and Zack shuddered in feeling her voice against him, brushing her long fringe befallen in her face. He could realize she was on the edge, but he already knew there was no use telling her not to push herself. Ray never did anything she didn't want to do, and honestly, it seemed like she was just as into this as he was, which was saying a lot, because somehow, he was pretty sure that this was the best, worst thing he'd ever done—and, shit, right now?

As Ray sucked him hard as hell, he couldn't bring himself to regret it at all.

He tilted his head back as he let out another erogenous exhale atop a few heavy breaths. "Ray," he moaned blissfully, and hearing the beloved nickname he'd given her so raw on his tongue? It only incited the girl to take him even deeper on hers, deep as possible, to the back of her throat. In the corners of her eye, a little droplet appeared against her will, but it didn't stop her. He groaned in pleasure, overtaken by her lascivious movements, and he cupped the sides of her jaw in either hand. "Good girl," he said breathlessly, "fuck, you're such a good girl, Ray, you're—"

A little too good.

Knowing he wouldn't last much longer if she kept it up, there was no way in hell he was about to let it end there. She gasped in light surprise as Zack forcibly shoved her off, only to pick her up, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist, and she agreeably obliged him. Looking up at her as he held her propped against his chest, Ray brushed the hair from her lover's eyes, matted slightly to his forehead as he'd broken out in a light sweat. She put her hands on either side of his face, dipping her head down to kiss him fervently, as if chasing the sensation she'd just been stolen from.

"Ray, you are," Zack muttered between intense kisses, sliding his tongue along her bottom lip to taste his lingering essence in her mouth, "so fuckin' fine."

Despite being the one to instigate all this, she never really thought she'd get this far, and Rachel felt unsure of how she was supposed to react for a moment, freezing up slightly. "I… like the way you look, too," she said, and towards such a polite sentiment, one vastly contrary to his crude, Zack relented for a moment before lowering his head with a chuckle.

"Wow," he sighed quietly, looking up to her once more. "Don't even have it in ya now, huh?" It'd seem that even the most personal thing wasn't personal enough to get her involved. Ray gave a momentary pause, and he'd assume he was right by the ever-vacant look she fashioned, however, the pretty pink blush shyly creeping up on her cheeks may have indicated otherwise.

"But it's true," Ray whispered sincerely as she studied his truest face more clearly, her tone almost heartfelt. "I think… you're really handsome," and certainly would've been considered conventionally so, were it not for the burns. "I like how strong you are," her fingertips trailed up his collarbone, tracing the definition, therein gliding to his neck, cupping his jaw lightly, "and I like… being able to see your face." She looked him in the eye, her sweet gaze growing somehow more heated."Your real face."

Scars and all.

"Every part of you," she reassured him, something fervent about her tone, "is perfect to me."

Recognizing her authenticity, that she actually felt so strongly, his heart fluttered against his will—wondering how the most deceivingly angelic girl in the world could ever think something like that about someone disfigured as him. Of course, she'd turned the tables on him like normal, but he steeled himself against her gentle words.

"Then you can have the whole thing," he hinted, inviting Ray back in as he kissed her again, and with their hips nearly pressed together, she suddenly felt his intensity getting harder against the slick fabric barely separating them. With her entire body growing heated, Ray took his meaning.

To have done everything up until now was one thing, but to go any farther meant something else entirely. There was, of course, the matter of her faith, what God dictated about this kind of thing, but certainly, were He ever going to forgive her for all else she'd done, this was just another cause to repent in the end, right? Even then, it's not like she had plans to be unfaithful to Zack, it was completely the opposite. If they did this, it'd only bring them closer.

Certainly, couldn't God forgive a good girl?

"Inside me," Ray whispered lustfully, almost without realizing it, "I want… to feel you inside me."

Cut to him, nearly losing it again.

Without another word, he turned, practically throwing her to lay back on the bed, her hands falling to rest aside her head. Before anything else, his fingertips carded in the side band of her panties, and he roughly tore them from her hips, down her thighs, catching on her left ankle, but he couldn't be bothered now to untangle them, just so long as they were out of the damn way. He climbed to position himself hovering over her, his bare intensity not a raw inch from hers.

"Can I," Ray asked shyly, "hold onto you?"

A satisfied smirk showed on his face. "Tight as you need," he reassured her, and doing just that, Ray reached up, placing her hand on his shoulders however lightly, though he knew that grip wouldn't be so gentle in a minute. "Always."

He shifted, and rubbing his tip upon her soft center, a look of euphoria, distant bliss showed on her face—one he fully reveled in.

Even though she was still young, Rachel was anything but innocent when it came to the unforgivable things she'd done. She was little more than a two-faced sinner, an unsaintly girl, a killer just like him—but this part of her, this most personal part, was perhaps the last ounce of virtue left in her, and he was done pretending like he didn't want to be the one to own it—own it, in the same way she'd long done with the only honest part of his heart.

In the same instantaneous moment, the two lost their breath as Zack pressed himself inside her purity, stealing it away for good.

Sure enough, Ray dug her nails into him on reflex. Moans of pleasure and intensity resounded in time, though hers echoed with a sort of heaviness. Her brow knit together, a shadow of moderate conflict showing. If only in this way, she was pure, or, "Fuck, Ray," perhaps more eloquently, "you're tight as hell."

"You're," somewhat flustered, it took Rachel a long moment to figure out her comparatively dull reply, "big."

Recognizing the slight discomfort in her tone, he rose narrowly to gaze her in the eye, a mix of pain and pleasure on her expression. "What, does it hurt?" he asked, and hesitantly, she gave a disinterested shrug. With every intention to stop if it wasn't as good to her as it was to him, Zack shifted, and Ray was alert as she recognized his consideration. "Why the hell didn't you say anythi—?"

Before he could pull out, the girl tenaciously wrapped her legs around his waist, simultaneously shoving her middle and ring fingers into her mouth, silencing him mid-sentence.

You know, for decorum's sake.

"Maybe I like it this way," she told him, the innocent tone of her voice betraying her less-than innocent actions as she pressed her digits on his tongue, her legs wrapping around him a little tighter, pulling him in deeper as she resisted the urge to wince, "did you ever consider that?" Ray asked breathlessly, and completely taken by surprise, Zack stared down at her as she fashioned a serious, vehement expression now despite her discomfort. "Hm?"

Uhm.

Hot?

Feeling as though she'd gotten her point across, Ray relented, removing her fingers from his mouth, to which Zack let out a deep heave, trying to calm himself so as to not end things before they even started. Ray did him no favors as she slid her fingers into her own mouth, seductively licking his saliva from her skin. Oh, now she was just asking for it.

"You would."

Be it payback or consideration, he quickly turned the tables in his favor as he shoved his throbbing length deep inside her. Ray let out a high, feminine moan, her legs tensing at his waist as her arms linked around his neck. She whimpered erotically as he slowly slid out to the end, and from such a raw reaction, Zack half expected her to tell him to stop, but this girl was nothing if not unpredictable.

"Again," she begged, almost urgently.

Steadying himself, he did just like she asked, another sharp thrust—then another, and another, inciting more of those little wanton sounds from his dear victim beneath him. He could feel her stretching around his girth, and it was a feeling to behold. "Should'a known you'd like it rough," he taunted her. Figures the girl who sought eternal punishment would be no different in the bedroom.

"I," Ray's little voice struggled to find semblance, "I also liked it," she confessed timidly, "when you put your hand around my neck," Ray said, and curiously, Zack stopped his movements to shift up and look at her again as he rose an eyebrow.

"Because it turns you on, or because you wanna die?"

A beat.

"Both—"

You know what? Forget he asked. Before she could finish speaking, Zack's palm clamped around the base of her neck, her porcelain throat. The resulting look of bliss on her face was hauntingly beautiful as she gasped slightly, her voice lost in her windpipe. Strangling her softly, he maneuvered against her once again, coaxing her into it more rhythmically this time. Her lids fluttered narrowly, her gaze meeting his, cheeks flushing not only from fluster but the moderate lack of air.

"P-Promise," her airy voice wavered as he choked her out, "promise—that you'll kill me."

He shouldn't have been surprised she was asking about something like that now, in their most heated of moments. Regardless, his answer came naturally, and he'd have certainly slaughtered anyone with such a passionate response as his, because, yes—yes.

"Fuck yes," he said aggressively, grip tightening. "I swear to you—it'll be me, and no one else."

Hearing as much, the euphoric look on her face deepened, and she felt herself tensing around him, escalating rapidly towards a new feeling, and Zack must've realized it too, because he pulled out suddenly, releasing her neck.

Before she could so much as ask why he stopped, Zack grabbed her and flipped her over.

With her back to him, he pulled up her hips, her legs spread apart slightly as Zack positioned himself behind her, on his knees. Naturally, she tried to look up for a moment, but Zack shoved her head down and into the mattress. With her face buried in the bed, she once again felt his hardness pressed to her silken folds. Holding her hip with his free hand, he penetrated her again, pounding into her the same as before. Her voice was muffled by the pillow, but still discernible as she moaned out his name erotically, "Zack". Through the rush, she struggled to say much else, but her sentiment finally found some broken semblance, and while it may have seemed like he was in control, just like everything else in life, she was the one making the decisions.

"F-Faster," Ray demanded.

He pressed into her now, thrusting quicker, overpowering her so insanely she couldn't keep up. The intensity was wearing on both of them, and in the already muggy evening, they had both broken into a light sweat, only exacerbated by the shared touch of their flesh. Ray gripped the blanket as that alluring, heated feeling threatened its soon return.

"Zack, I… I feel—kind of—" she stumbled over her words, but he took her meaning, even if she, herself, didn't understand, because he knew he was getting close, too. Ever the slave to this girl, wanting only the very peak of her, he didn't think twice before pulling out again, shifting her to straddle in his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Yeah, watching her whimper face-down was fun, but would it be right to finish her off any other way?

"You wanted this," he panted, his voice not more than a gritty whisper, "so don't you dare look away."

She had no such plans.

His arms wrapped around her back to counterbalance her little hands pressed to his chest. They didn't immediately go back to it, both knowing they were broaching the edge, but the impish Zack couldn't resist rubbing against her exterior, making her breathe softly as she pulled herself against him, to which he held her securely.

"You wanted this too," she reminded him gently. "So," Ray said, her sweet tone turning a touch devious, "don't hold back."

Just the same, he had no such plans.

With mutually reckless abandon, Zack slid raw inside her again. This time, it didn't hurt Ray at all, as she only felt the burning desire to be as close to him as possible. Her hips rocked against his as he helped set the pace. In his lap, the angle allowed Zack to hit her just right, overwhelming Ray with waves of intense pleasure. Just like her, he quickly felt his intensity building towards a hopeful release as she rode him, and it only proved to make him harder inside her. "Ray," he moaned in breathless ecstasy, fully reveling in the experience of her, the best and worst thing that ever happened to him.

Zack knew that she liked it. She could play innocent all she wanted, but she knew damn well she could tell him to do just about anything in the world, anything in his power, no matter how horrible, risky, stupid, or dangerous, and he'd do it no matter what, just so long as it was her asking. She knew the power she had over him, the innate control, and she fucking loved it.

He did, too.

And now, of course, asking for the worst thing of all, as the girl who always knew what she wanted, Ray wouldn't settle for anything less than the most of him, too.

"Come inside me," she begged, inciting him in the most intimate way possible, "Isaac."

Driving everything he had into her, he, too, couldn't fathom any other result. He moved in time with her, not caring to think of the consequences, because he already knew she couldn't be bothered even less-so than him. Instantly, ecstasy overtook him as his hands upon her grew firm, only tipped to the edge as she tensed tightly around him one last time, her nails digging into his shoulders, meeting him in kind as she reached her peak. He gave into her, his greatest sin, doing just as she wanted.

Obediently, he acquiesced his paramour's visceral desires, for Isaac Foster was nothing if not Ray Gardner's personal bitch.

Now more than ever, he could confidently say—even the adrenaline of a fresh kill was nothing compared to the experience that was his most beloved victim. Neither made the effort to stifle the heavy moans of relief that followed their climax, nor did they try to part—still holding one another for dear life in the following moments.

Eventually, he felt Ray grow a touch weak, and while she'd definitely worn him down, too, he held her securely yet, chest-to-chest. Gradually, she shifted as they parted narrowly, and he let out a breath of relief, never breaking eye-contact even as he finally left her. She could feel a thick trail of a mixed something on her inner thigh, but she didn't pay it much mind.

"You're," Zack forced himself to find his voice, "you're gonna be the end of me," he huffed a laugh, "you know that?"

Offering a little exhale of her own, the corners of her lips turned upwards cordially. "Think you've got that the other way around," if the light bruising on her neck wasn't any indication, y'know, among all else. Rolling his eyes, he took her nearer in his arms again, dragging her to rest atop his chest as he laid back on the bed. She nestled into him, a long pause following, a comfortable silence.

"Kinda risky to do things that way," Zack finally said, and he felt Ray shrug. "You're not worried?"

"Are you?" she asked almost playfully, raising an eyebrow as she peered up slightly, to which he groaned. "That's unlike you," she teased him, and his only reply was a dismissive "shove it" beneath his breath. "It should be fine," she reassured him, having maybe even planned this in a timely manner, like she did with all her schemes. "We'll be more careful from now on."

(Cut to Zack, mentally high-fiving himself in his mind, because, fuck yeah, "from now on".)

"Guess I'll have to take your word for it," he relented ultimately, and Rachel hummed, satisfied, because she was aware he already knew to let her do the thinking.

Resting her palms against his center chest, she settled her chin upon the back of her hands, positioning herself to better look at him. From the corner of his peripheral, Zack peered back towards her—feeling her gaze stuck on him like glue, as if still in wonder at the sight of him, and he merely rolled his eyes with a lopsided smile before resting again. Always, Ray had thought his expressions were endearing, but now more than ever, for a killer?

That little grin on his face was so very precious.

Leaning up, she kissed his cheek, much more innocently this time, it was almost even sweet. While the fact alone wasn't really surprising, her lips merely trailed along his skin to a seemingly particular spot on his jaw, another kiss, then to the corner of his eye, another. "What are you—?" he muttered, however halting mid-sentence as he felt her fingers upon his stomach, over the faded incision he'd long ago inflicted upon himself, and that's when he realized it.

Rachel was kissing his scars.

Shifting up slowly, she hovered over him again, propping herself up with her arms, her somewhat messy hair falling to frame her angelic visage. Sincerely, she looked him deep in the eye, her beautifully dark gaze entrancing him effortlessly. Now more than ever, whether he liked it or not, whether she let him live or shot him dead on her floor, whether she let him bleed out or stuck her needle in him for the millionth time…

Whether she kissed him, whether he killed her.

Ray knew it bare repeating: "You're mine."