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“Praise Joe,”
The words tumbled off of Emma’s lips as the pair of them shared a kiss, tangled together under the bed sheets.
“Praise Joe,”
She whispered before slitting the neck of their latest victim
“Praise Joe,”
Emma moaned as she curled her fingers in Joe’s short hair with his head between her legs.
“Praise Joe,”
Joe didn’t always hear her praise in her voice. Sometimes he saw a slender phantom in the corner of his eye, sometimes heard the praise in a familiar deep growl. Sometimes Joe saw Ryan instead of Emma. Replaced her with him in their intimate moments. Joe closed his eyes when wrapping a hand around Emma’s throat, feeling the phantom sensation of stubble against his skin.
“Praise Joe,”
Ryan had said with a smirk on his lips when they found each other again years later.
“Praise Joe,”
He spit out even as Joe choked him within an inch of his life.
“Praise Joe,”
There were times Joe didn’t understand why Ryan would sing his praises, especially when he was the one mostly on his knees.