30. You love the violence…when you watch and when you feel!”
30
You love the violence…when you watch and when you feel!”
Chapter Playlist:
“Tourniquet” – Breaking Benjamin
“Tourniquet” – Evanescence
“Feral Hearts” Kerli
EVERLEIGH
I suck in a shaky breath, my knees nearly buckling. Acheron turns toward me, his eyes dark and intense, the knife still dripping with blood. I freeze, my heart pounding as he approaches me slowly with a cruel delight in his eyes.
When he’s close enough, he lifts the blade, the tip grazing my cheek. I part my lips, but my lower one trembles. All my hairs stand on end.
“This,” he murmurs, his voice dark and possessive, “is what happens to anyone who dares to look at you without my permission, Little Quill.”
His words send a shiver down my spine, and before I can react, my knees give out. The world tilts, and I feel myself falling.
But Acheron is there, his arms sweeping around me, lifting me effortlessly into his embrace. No. He is Cal again.
“You’re safe now,” he whispers, a stark contrast to the bloodshed. “No one will ever harm you while I breathe.”
I bury my face in his shoulder, the scent of blood and his cologne filling my senses. Despite the horror, despite the violence, I feel… safe. Protected. Completely, utterly protected.
The next thing I know, he has me on the cold stone floor facing the corpse. In one second, he rips the silk robe off my body, baring all of me and stealing the breath from my lungs.
“Oh, God!” I cry out as he holds me down by the back of my neck. Then, I shriek at the touch of his finger sliding into my ass, dripping some liquid inside. When it tingles, I realize it’s an arousing lube. Two fingers. “No, please, I can’t?—”
Memories surface, long since buried. The feeling of being bent over a desk before my skirt was shoved up and stockings and underwear pulled down. Dick hard against my ass, trying to probe inside.
I hyper-focus on the blood trickling into the drain. It seems to help as he adds another finger.
“You can. And you will. For me. Breathe, Little Quill.”
“Cal!” The God of Art is gone. Him and me now. And some twisted part of me understands how much he needs this. He needs me. The violence of his past is pressing in on him from all sides. This is how I protect him.
Stockholm Syndrome.
No, girl. Fix-Him Syndrome!
Tightening his grip on me, he purrs low and dark, “Such a pretty girl, my antiquarian.” He thrusts the fingers in and out, dripping more lube inside. “Look at you getting so hot from Master’s serial artwork.” He chuckles and slaps my ass, driving the fingers in deeper while his thumb works around to rub my slippery clit. “You can’t deny it. You want this. You want to be used like this, fucked like this. You love the violence…when you watch and when you feel !”
He shoves his dick deep inside my drenched pussy from behind. I shriek at the feeling of my insides being stretched again. Every time, I swear he’s bigger, thicker, filling parts of me I never fathomed. My nipples scrape against the cold floor, and my hands thrash, nails raking into the blood.
“Fuck, you’re wet. So ready, you’re dying for your god’s cock. I’m gonna fill you up with my cum tonight, Everleigh. But first, I’m taking you deeper. And you’re going to be a good girl, won’t you?”
I want to scream, but I’ve lost my voice. He parts my cheeks. Something cold and hard but wet slides into me, slowly, excruciating as it burns my anus. I whine and writhe from the double pressure of his length and whatever wet metal is budging against it.
“Ohgodohgodohgod!” I sob, understanding what it is as he moves it in and out.
It’s the dagger handle.
The pain overwhelms me, but the pressure shoots through me, taking me higher.
While thrusting his hardness into me, so easily from my fluids, Cal slides the handle out. Then slides the handle in deeper. I scream through clenched teeth. It’s soaked, but it still chafes my anal walls.
“Christ, you’re tight,” he growls while rocking his cock in slow, deliberate movements. “Such a pretty hole. Goddamn, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this, this ass taking my dagger like a perfect, little slut.”
“It hurts!”
“Take it, Little Quill, Take it for me,” he commands, gripping my hair harder, easing the dagger handle back out before shoving it back in, burning, hurting. It’s bigger than all the butt plugs he’s used on me for the past two weeks. And my muscles grip it like a vice. He groans as he works it in deeper and deeper until the guard hits my ass.
I explode, convulsing all around him with lights shattering my vision as ecstasy pumps through my veins, radiating into every cell in my body.
“Fuck, that’s my girl. You love your ass getting stabbed while I fuck you.” He groans again like he’s in pain, but I’m gasping, struggling for breath because one more press on the handle and-and—“Come for me again, Everleigh Lennox.”
I shatter, my screams echoing off the dungeon walls. One brutal spearing of his cock, and Cal comes with me, roaring while shooting his cum inside me. I’m still convulsing, my walls still clamping down when he jerks out of me, turns me over, and shoves my knees to my shoulders. Nothing in me can move.
Twisting the knife handle, Cal lowers his mouth to my pussy and kisses my clit. All my willpower is needed to keep from bucking and disrupting the knife. My body responds, shuddering like a storm as he licks my clit, circling his tongue all around it. “God, look at this pussy so pretty and stretched from my shaft,” he murmurs, groaning again, but my body is spiraling, responding to the inconceivable pressure in my ass. Never thought such high levels of pain could merge with such deep throes of pleasure.
Taking something from his suit coat, Cal lowers it and presses it to my clit. I throw my head back and moan from the bullet vibrator stimulating my clit.
“It’s too much!” I wail.
But he’s driving himself into me again. The double pressure, the vibrator trained on my clit, his powerful thrusts. A firestorm rips through me, blazing the next orgasm through my system and electrifying my nerve endings.
He lowers his head and sucks at my breast, tonguing the nipple while kneading and pinching the other, fucking me the whole time. His groans grow, his breaths seem more labored than ever. And then…I realize something is wetting my stomach, soaking my skin.
“Cal!” I gasp and grip his mask, desperate to meet his eyes. He lets me. And I choke on a scream at the pain in his gaze.
“Just a little more, Everleigh,” he says deeply, darkly, completely dismissing that he’s bleeding all over me. The knife. When he was fucking me from behind—oh God! It sliced him open. How deep?
He rubs the vibrator on my swollen clit, spurring on another encroaching wave. Slowly, he eases out the knife handle, and I choke because it’s not lube he uses this time.
It’s blood. His blood.
He’s fucking my ass with the knife handle—soaked in his blood.
I can’t speak. With him moving inside me, pushing with an unstoppable force and thrusting the handle inside me, with him pressing the bullet harder until I feel the vibrations in my very chest, I’m speechless, near breathless. Powerful suction from his mouth at my breast and delicate teeth on my nipples. One more thrust?—
—he slams into me. I crash with him. We fall together into the most powerful orgasm I’ve had since he came into my life. The world rips apart, exploding and shattering me into a million smithereens of light and color. A molten storm of pain and pleasure, and I swear the earth is shaking with us.
But it’s him who’s shaking. More blood drips onto my belly. It’s soaking through his tunic. He jerks out, yanking the handle from my ass too fast and hard, I see stars from the sharp burn. Then, he’s hauling me into his arms, carrying me out of the room. I hold onto him, murmuring in his neck, “You’re hurt.”
“Never felt better,” he sighs.
“Cal, you need treatment.”
“Hmm, why when you’re my cure?” He rubs his lips along my brow.
“Ugh!”
He laughs and opens the door to the bathroom of water and colorful scales shimmering like prisms all around us.