Welcome to Hell (by Williane Kassia) novel Chapter 172

Chapter 172

It doesn’t matter how much I need to break him; I will rebuild every

piece so that he is mine alone.

I pull him closer, pressing my mouth to his again, taking what I

consider mine by right. When I pull away, blood trickles from the

corner of his lips; I run my thumb over it slowly, spreading the heat

and smiling with a lunatic glint in my eyes.

“I love you so much, Magnus.” My voice comes out hoarse, sincere to

him, and insane at the same time. “I love you to the point where I

can’t stand the thought of another gaze upon you.”

Anyone who dares touch him, I will destroy.

Anyone.

Without hesitation.

He is my altar.

My obsession.

My religion.

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His body shudders again.

I close my eyes, a low sound escaping my throat, moving slowly,

savoring every moment.

Possession.

That’s it.

Possession.

Even if he doesn’t want it.

I take my time pulling out of him.

When I do, hate consumes me.

Rage for feeling the emptiness.

But soon I smile seeing my cum dripping, staining his thighs, I shove my fingers in there, pushing it back in, as if I wanted to keep him

filled forever.

I won’t let it escape.

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He must always carry my sperm inside him.

I lean my forehead against his shoulder, panting. My hands travel

over every inch: chest, thighs, abs, sincere thighs, and abdomen. I

bite and suck his skin, leaving visible marks–memories engraved for

the next day.

I want him to look at himself in the mirror when he wakes up and not

forget.

“You’re going to love me, Magnus,” she says, and Magnus. ” I speak

with a trembling voice, overtaken by fever and desire. “You’re going to

love me until you go mad.”

I lie down beside him, my hand still firmly on his waist–possessive,

as if the world could tear him away from me. It won’t. Not now that

I’ve achieved what I’ve always dreamed of. Gradually, he will learn

that no life exists outside of this bond. When he raises his eyes–not

with hate, but with devotion, dependence, and need–I will know

what peace is.

Until then, I won’t stop. I have plans: to wound him, to drive him

crazy, to “make him suffer until only what I desire remains. All for

“his own good.”

Magnus Hale has ceased to be the Enforcer.

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He has become my prey.

My obsession.

My love.

My life.

My everything.

The pieces are already in motion. Guards on my side, Navarro in the

palm of my hand, cooks following the rhythm I dictate. I will

transform this castle of fear into a cell under my command.

I use his own methods: addiction and necessity, but now I am the one

holding the reins.

I’m going to flip the game and prove that Magnus no longer rules. I’m

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