One Taboo Night – Dangerous Devotion Read Online S.E. Law

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Erotic, Taboo Tags Authors: S.E. Law Advertisement

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Marnie is just a blur on the edge of my peripheral vision. She’s not screaming, not crying. She’s not even running.

She stands there, nude, her big bust heaving, blue eyes wide and haunted.

She’s the only thing in the room that’s real.

James and I break apart, breathing hard, circling, waiting for the next move. He’s bleeding from the lip. I’m bleeding from the nose. We look like we just walked out of a meat grinder.

From the corner, Marnie’s voice, thin and unsteady: “Stop it. Stop.”

Neither of us listen.

James feints left, then goes for a bear hug, trying to drag me down. I bite his shoulder—fuck it, no rules—and he yelps, but doesn’t let go. We tumble across the carpet, knocking over a chair and slamming into the closet doors. The noise is insane—crashing, yelling, the sounds of bodies breaking things and maybe breaking themselves.

That’s when she runs.

I see her out of the corner of my eye—Marnie, fully nude, sprinting from the bedroom. She doesn’t bother with clothes, just books it down the hallway, hair flying, bare feet slapping the hardwood.

For a second, neither of us move.

Then I shove James off, stagger to my feet, and wipe the blood from my face. He’s on his knees, panting, hand pressed to his chest where I must’ve landed a good one.

“She’s gone,” I say, but I’m not even sure if I want to follow.

He glares up at me, then shakes his head. “You always have to ruin everything, don’t you?”

I want to punch him again, but instead I stagger to the closet, yank on a pair of sweats, and head down the hall after her. I don’t even know what I’ll say. All I know is the sound of her feet, the flash of gold hair, the echo of her breathless, desperate sobbing as she flees into the dark.

I follow, because what else can I do?

I catch up to her in the kitchen—bare feet sliding on marble, hair whipping a streak of gold behind her. She’s breathless, pale, not even pretending to cover up anymore. Her hands shake as she yanks open the fridge, slamming it shut, then attacks the drawers, one after the other. Utensils scatter, a rain of metal clattering on the floor. She barely notices.

I try to get closer, but she wheels on me, eyes bright with terror.

“Don’t,” she says, and her voice cracks in two.

“Marnie, it’s okay,” I start, hands up, but she’s not listening.

She’s not okay. None of us are okay.

She rummages through the next drawer, and when she finds it—a chef’s knife, eleven inches of steel—her hands go so white they look bloodless. She holds it in both hands, blade trembling, and for a second she just stares at it, like she can’t decide if it’s real.

Behind me, the sounds of the brawl haven’t stopped. James is cursing, maybe patching his knuckles, maybe just punching holes in drywall for the fuck of it. The whole apartment is echoing with violence, like a building under siege. I’m bleeding from the nose and lip, and the copper taste is all I can smell.

“Put that down,” I say, as gently as I can. I take a step toward her. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

She shakes her head, tears welling up, and backs up until she’s pressed flat against the pantry door.

“I’m not going back in there,” she whispers, and the words are razor-sharp.

I glance down the hall. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

“I don’t care!” she shouts, voice cracking again. “You two are insane! You can’t just do this kind of shit!”

I reach for her, slow, hands wide, but she jerks the knife up, the blade trembling so hard I half-expect it to snap.

“I’m serious!” she screams. “I’ll cut your balls off! I’ll cut both of your balls off. I swear, I’ll⁠—”

There’s a crash from the bedroom. Something big. Maybe the dresser tipping over, maybe just a final, catastrophic loss of self-control. Marnie flinches, her breath hitching. She looks at the knife again, and her eyes flash again with pure fury.

She bolts, out of the kitchen and down the hall, knife still in hand, big tits bouncing as her ass sways. I run after her, wincing every time my heel hits the floor. I’m shirtless, blood dripping onto the waistband of my sweats, and all I can think is: I have lost every last bit of control.

She bursts into the bedroom like an avenging angel, knife held high, hair streaming out behind her. James is standing over the bed, one hand pressed to his ribs, blood streaking his face and chest. He turns at the sound, and for the first time in his life, I see him flinch.

“Stop,” she screams. “Just stop it or I’ll cut your balls off!”

We all freeze, the three of us: Marnie, nude and lush, knife raised; me, bloodied and winded, crouched in the doorway; James, breathing hard, arms up but backing away.


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