Renna Rose Lancaster is the girl people stare at like she belongs in a glass case, a life airbrushed into unattainable perfection.
But Renna knows her life is nothing but a golden prison coated in pretty lies that keep her muted and small.
Her day...
"Tell me those 3 magical words"She said expecting, I love you. "Only yours forever " He replied smiling.
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The knife slipped again, gouging a jagged chunk out of the pumpkin’s cheek instead of the smooth curve I’d been aiming for. Bloody typical.
Renna squirmed on my lap again—fuck, the hundredth time at least—her arse grinding down hard, like she was deliberately trying to mould the heat of her cunt through my trousers straight into my bone.
Those enormous black wings kept sweeping against my arm, feathers teasing skin like velvet fingers in on her little game. She wasn’t helping. Hadn’t helped once since Cameron dropped that bloated orange prick in front of us with his shit-eating grin. No, she’d just vaulted onto me like some territorial succubus and declared my lap her throne for the night.
Her mouth found the side of my neck again—hot, wet, fucking insatiable. Quick press, then another, then another, tongue flicking out each time like she was starving for the salt of my skin. Every single one shot straight to my cock, and I hated how instantly it throbbed, thickening under the weight of her.
If she doesn’t stop, I’m going to end up carving a wonky penis into this pumpkin instead of anything resembling a face.
“Do you mind?” I muttered, dragging the knife slow and careful along the eyelid I was trying not to butcher. “I’m trying to operate here.”
She made a low humming sound against my throat, the vibration rumbling straight into my bloodstream. Her arms cinched tighter around my shoulders, nails scraping up into the hair at my nape, tugging just hard enough to sting. Another kiss—slower this time, mouth open, tongue sliding deliberate over my pulse point, sucking lightly like she wanted to leave a mark.
I exhaled through my teeth. “Renna.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re sabotaging me on purpose.”
She pulled back just enough to look at me, those dark wings framing her face like some corrupted angel gone feral. Her makeup was wrecked in the most obscene way—kohl smeared into deep bruises under her eyes, lips dark red and swollen from her own teeth. Her pupils were blown huge, cheeks burning under the mess of shadow and shimmer. She looked thoroughly fucked already. Looked like she was aching for it and didn’t give a single shit that half the room would tease us into next year if we gave them a show.
“You don’t want me here?” she asked, voice thick and syrupy with fake hurt, lower lip jutting out in that pout that usually melted everyone else like butter. Never worked on me.
I snorted. “You’re always here. My thighs are starting to develop a permanent Renna-shaped dent. One day archaeologists are going to dig me up and think I had some weird parasitic twin.”
