15. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Avery
I manage to survive through the night.
As much as I hated being back in my own room alone, there was some solace in the fact that Grey was lurking somewhere in the dark outside my door.
But every little creak had me on edge, wondering if guards would swoop in at any second to take me back into the hands of Dr. West.
I was surprised that Grey didn't try to sneak into my room—almost hurt by the notion. But part of me suspects it was to make sure I got enough sleep and that no one would disturb me.
Before I know it, I'm sitting in Charmaine's class, pretending life is back to normal.
Ever since my session yesterday with Elsher, I keep waiting for it—retaliation, a punishment.
Anything, really.
But nothing has come.
Today just feels odd. To everyone else, it's a normal day. People come and go all the time in Lilydale—in life and death. So, no one batted an eye when Vivian and I suddenly appeared again. At least not in front of me. Maybe because I'm constantly flanked by my own guard dogs, who glare at anyone who dares to step foot within a six-mile radius of me.
I've seen Vivian around, mostly hanging with Siobhan and Eliana. She seems to be doing okay—at least on the outside. But if she's feeling anything like I am, it's a deadly curse. I'm on edge, tiptoeing across a tightrope. One sudden gust of wind and I'll fall off into oblivion.
"Psst, little killer."
A smile creeps onto my face, a rush of heat sliding over my cheeks as I feel eyes on me. Charmaine is busy pacing at the front of the room, droning on about classical literature. She takes no notice of the fact that Grey is practically rotated ninety-degrees in his chair, facing me.
"Ssh," I scold him playfully under my breath. "Pay attention."
I twirl my pencil between my fingers, stopping to point it at Charmaine. I pretend to give a shit about the so-called academia that is offered here. I can't help but wonder how much Charmaine knows—whether she understands that it's a waste of time. She's not teaching us our future—she's distracting us from our impending deaths.
Grey raises an eyebrow, his mouth forming a smirk. I watch as his eyes dart to my pencil, excitement in them.
"I'm not stabbing you," I grumble quietly, feeling a sense of déjà vu. "But I might let you impale me if you behave."
Maybe I have gone insane and my brain scrambled by Dr. West's machines. Never in a million years would I say something like that out loud. I nearly cringe at myself except for the fact his lips part and his eyes flash with stunned, heated need.
Quickly turning my attention back to Charmaine, I pretend to listen, ignoring the burning gaze on me which doesn't move for the rest of the class.
As soon as the bell rings for free time, I've barely gotten to my feet when an arm swings out, grabbing my wrist and yanking me toward the door. People are shoved out of our way as Grey drags me to the library, ignoring the guards that attempt to keep some level of order as patients flock out of classrooms.
I can't resist the laugh that breaks out of my throat when I'm shoved through the library doors, stumbling slightly until I gather stability. Turning around to find Grey, he grabs hold of the end of the nearest bookshelf, pulling the wooden structure until the side snaps off with a crunch.
He shoves the broken wood between the two door handles, turning around to face me. His eyes are darkened, a look that anyone else would describe as psychotic—reminding me that I'm playing a dangerous game.
"You want me to impale you?" he asks, taking a step toward me.
Instinctively, I step back, shrugging playfully. "Did I say that? I don't think I did."
He doesn't pause his movements, slowly creeping toward me like an animal about to attack its prey. I realize I only have a matter of seconds before he'll have me cornered, and I turn, sprinting to the tables, ducking around to the other side. The sound of his loud footsteps echo behind me and I quickly dash to the other end, putting a table between us.
"Do you think you can outrun me?" Grey teases, stalking around slowly.
We circle each other, my mind and body extremely conscious of the fact that he could leap across the table if he wanted to. But something tells me he's enjoying the chase—the thrill of hunting me and letting me believe I'm getting away.
"I'll keep trying," I taunt back, picking up pace when his movements speed up.
Grey laughs, eyes dancing. "It's cute that you think you'll win. I'm almost tempted to let you."
"Don't underestimate me," I shoot back. "I could be quite fast."
He stops walking, making me halt in the process. My heart starts racing as I try to anticipate his next move.
Suddenly, he pushes himself off the ground, sliding across the table on his ass. I let out a squeal, running to gain distance, but a hand swipes out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me backwards.
My back hits his chest with a thud, arms pinned to my sides by strong hands. Grey pushes me onto the table, bending me over so my chest is squished into the laminated wood.
"One would almost think that you wanted to be caught," he murmurs, locking my hands behind my back. "I guess that's what happens when you bite off more than you can chew."
"What makes you think I can't handle it?" I breathe out, my cheek pressed into the table as I stare up at him out of the corner of my eye.
Holding my hands together with one of his, he trails the other down my back, stopping on my ass. He squeezes it before lifting my skirt up in a painfully slow manner.
"Maybe you're right," he says quietly, running a finger over my underwear. "But you're already wet for me. Does being chased turn you on, little killer?"
I bite back a moan, closing my eyes. Shaking my head as well as I can from this position, I play stubborn. "Nope."
"Liar."
Grey slides my underwear to the side, exposing me to the cool air. The sudden movement makes me gasp quietly, his finger trailing down the centre of my lips. Even with his soft touch, it sends shivers racing up my entire body.
"I'm not lying," I argue weakly.
His finger dips inside until he's buried up to his knuckle. "Is that why this pretty pussy is clenching me for dear life? Dripping down my finger?"
I try to shake my head again but he curls his finger, moving his hand in and out, forcing moans to spill from my throat.
"You know—I don't think it's fair," he murmurs, deliberately stopping to stroke my g-spot. "It's cruel to say I can only have you if I behave. We both know that I'm not capable of that."
"I think you're behaving," I breathe out, stomach tightening as waves of pleasure increase with heated intensity.
Grey laughs to himself, withdrawing his finger despite my moans of protest. "Don't move or else."
I watch as he moves over to the bookshelves, scanning the torn-up and battered books before plucking one off the shelf. He opens it up to a random page, laying it down next to my head.
"You didn't pay attention today," he says, positioning himself behind me again. "I think you should do some reading."
My brows furrow as I lift my head, staring at the title of the book written across the top of the page. I almost burst out laughing, if not for Grey's fingers gliding back inside my body. Even at his mercy, the irony isn't lost on me.
"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?" I question, biting down on my bottom lip to stop myself from crying out.
"Hm," he replies, removing his fingers from my aching body. "It's quite fitting. Now, this is what's going to happen, little killer. You're going to read—out loud to me—while I fuck you. Every time you stop, I stop. Got it?"
He presses the head of his cock against my entrance—not quite pushing in, but enough to make me roll my hips back in need. A hand slaps my ass cheek, startling me.
"Start reading," he orders. "And you'll get what you want."
My hands shakily move from my back to the table on either side of the book, my eyes barely able to focus on the faded words. Taking a deep breath in, I start at the bottom of the page, closest to my face.
"He is once out of five hundred times affected by the dangers that he runs through his brutish, physical insensibility…"
Grey eases inside my body, my pussy clenching around him as he stretches me. My eyes flutter closed on their own accord, mouth falling open as I relish in how good he feels. As promised, he stops.
"Keep going," he growls, a warning behind his tone.
"Yet it was by these that I was punished," I groan, skipping ahead because my eyes are unable to focus on the words. He buries himself to the hilt, rocking his hips torturously slow.
My fingers dig into the table as I beg my mind to focus. The words barely make sense, practically another language. My ability to speak is fast becoming a fleeting memory.
"My devil had been long caged, he came out roaring…" I trail off as he thrusts harder, sending my chest barreling into the bottom of the book. I grip it with my hands, desperate for him to continue.
"Your devil," he muses, stroking my hips. "He was caged until he met you."
A moan lingers in my throat at his words, pushing my ass into his hips to feel him more. He squeezes my hips tightly as a warning, cautioning me of the promised punishment.
"In my case, to be tempted, however slightly, was to fall," I murmur, no longer just reading words.
I used to think the worst thing that could happen to someone would be to fall into the darkness—until I met him. He is the darkness, and I never realized how much I needed him until I was there in his obsidian abyss.
They say that the light will save you—but that's not always the case.
Sometimes, the darkness is where we thrive, where we are reborn after finding ourselves.
It hides all your flaws, engulfing you. And when you think you can't breathe, you become intoxicated by the freedom it offers.
"My fallen angel," Grey whispers, fucking me harder. "You fell right into the Devil's arms."
I wish I had the strength to coherently explain to him that his arms are home. After all, the Devil was a fallen angel too.
"I mauled the unresisting body, tasting delight from every blow… of my delirium… struck through the heart…," I say breathlessly, pleasure shooting through my shaking body.
Grey's hand snakes around my thighs, fingers circling my clit as he senses my nearing climax. "Keep reading, Avery," he growls softly. "Don't stop until I say we're done."
My elbows threaten to buckle underneath me as my fingers grasp the fragile paper, straining to read the final words.
"Upon his lips as he com… compounded," I moan loudly as Grey picks up speed, slamming into me forcefully from behind. "The draught, and as he drank it…"
I tense up, clenching around his cock as I feel the start of my orgasm rolling through me, sending me back into the darkness that I love and crave. Grey's breathing deepens, becomes ragged, fingers holding onto me tightly as he starts to reach his own peak.
"He drank it, pledged the dead man."
The two of us cry out together, bodies trembling as we fall like dominoes onto the table. Grey's body crashes on top of mine, his face buried into my hair as his cock jerks inside me with his release.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde are forgotten, the book laying open next to my head while he kisses the side of my face. And as we come back to reality, the last words still linger in the air.
We've both pledged our allegiance to the Deadman.