8 Everett
July 1st, 2022
She didn’t understand how this affected me. The way she craved my power, the way I craved to show it to her.
She couldn’t possibly understand the euphoria I felt when I saw her tied down, when I took the whip to her and watched her shudder in pleasure.
And it was never like this with anyone else. Never. This was new and I wasn’t used to ‘new’. I wasn’t used to wanting to change for someone. To allow myself to become soft for them. I wasn’t used to any of this.
I didn’t want to kill her, I didn’t want her to suffer, not necessarily. I wanted her to feel me. I wanted her to find the most pleasure she had ever experienced, and I wanted to control that. I wanted to own every piece of her and watch as she bent to my will.
I wanted to take her to the very edge and deprive her of the end, so she knew that I owned that cliff she wanted so badly to jump over.
I wanted to give her everything her precious little heart desired, but my way, on my terms.
This was different than interrogation. This was different than exerting my power over our prey. It brought a different kind of euphoria than hunting and killing, than destroying, beating. It was wholly different, and I was fucking addicted to it.
To her.
Even now, as she sat unconscious in the chair I had made just for her, she was fucking glowing.
The chair was wooden, dipped in resin, mounted to the wall in my apartment on a moving piece of hardware so that I could put her at any height I wanted. Right now, her face was at eye level.
It held her at a slight angle, ass further away from the wall than her head, two adjustable leather holsters positioned on either side of the chair, slightly in front of it, her feet propped up in them to give me the best access to her glistening cunt.
Her wrists were wrapped up, the ribbon looped over a hook high above the back of the chair, keeping her body taut and ready. It allowed a little bit of give, but not much.
She had a small, vibrating anal plug, the jewel pink, sticking out of her ass, and I also strapped an ‘O’ ring into her mouth, not the largest I had, but her mouth wasn’t going to be the star of this show, not this time. The black leather straps were digging into her cheeks, her drool slowly falling from her mouth to her chest.
Fuck, she was gorgeous.
She had done so good today. Her confidence was growing, her control. Fuck, I was proud of her. I wanted to reward her for acting the way she had today. With that fucking rent-a-cop down the street and with her mother.
My eyes fell to the nearly healed ‘E’ carved into her inner thigh, and I felt my own drool pooling. Mine.
All fucking mine.
God, I wanted to destroy her in every single way she craved, and now she was finally healed enough to do just that.
The sound of my door shutting interrupted my train of thought, causing my teeth to grind.
I snarled under my breath and, with one last look at my girl, headed for my living room before Evelyn walked in.
But it wasn’t Evelyn I found standing there, it was my brother.
Azrael was leaning on that incessant cane of his, his mask on just as mine was. I wondered how he would do when we no longer had to wear them. Something told me he wouldn’t conform too well with that set of rules. His mask was like a security blanket to him, more so than the rest of us. I hadn’t seen him without it more than half a dozen times in the last ten years, it was unlikely he would ever take it off.
He smiled brightly. “Why, dear mountain boy, do you have a woman chained to your wall?”
I should have known he would find this place. There was nothing anyone could keep from Azrael, it was fucking irritating. “What do you want?”
I asked, heading to my fridge.
“It’s regarding the meeting about the tantalizing woman you’ve decided to tie yourself too.”
“A debt is a debt,”
I said tightly, grabbing a water from the fridge. All I wanted to do was fuck Olivia into oblivion. Dealing with my psychotic younger brother was not in the cards for today.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,”
he hummed. “The Delepski’s are in the country, just thought you should know that the sharks, they are circling, and they smell blood. So if you want your pretty little rose to keep her bleeding heart, you should pick a side and quit playing games. The longer you play, the more suspicious it seems. So either tell them you’ve traded the debt for a Claim or make the choice you need to make.”
My eyes hardened. Of course, he knew. God fucking dammit. Nobody knew how he did it, but he managed to do it every goddamn time.
I took a swig of my drink, our eyes locked. “Using her as bait won’t guarantee her lungs keep working.”
“Ah, but it certainly guarantees the deaths of the pathetic Delepski family. I’m not here to give you advice, I’m here to warn you.”
My brows pulled together at that, little bells in my head going off at his sudden presence here, nearly nine days after the meeting took place. “Warn me? You don’t warn people, you disappear and come back with problems.”
“Let’s just say I’m tired of the predictability of this.”
His eyes flicked to the door, his smile widening, and he found me again. “Three times is the charm is what I always say. We’ll see if this pans out like the others. By Beckett’s reaction, I would say so.”
My anger grew. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Riddles upon riddles upon riddles. Have fun,”
he sang, heading back for the door. “Consider fucking her to death this time around, dear boy, it’s always fun feeling their life drift from their souls while your dick is 11-inches deep in their crying pussy.”
He eyed me. “9.”
I snarled. “Get the fuck out of my house!”
He chuckled, opening the door. “It’s better than the alternative. Which is bound to happen sooner or later. Like I said, three times is the charm.”
I stormed over, slamming the door in his face. Fucking psychotic prick. I didn’t have the time nor the patience to decrypt his fucking puzzles. God, I hated it when he did that.
Olivia would be fine. If I had to dismember 1,000 bodies, a million, I’d do it to keep her safe.
That’s the kind of power she had over me. And while part of me hated that, another part of me, probably the most sadistic part of all, would gladly take her place on that wall if she ordered me to do it.
I locked the door behind Azrael and headed back into my room, shutting and locking that door too.
The wax was completely melted, and I was done waiting.
I set my water down and picked up the warm bowl of melted wax, turning to my blooming little flower. Azrael had one thing right, I suppose. She was a prickling rose, and she was opening up just for me.
I tossed my mask onto the bed and walked up to her. “Time to wake up, baby,”
I purred, and slowly started pouring that hot wax all over her chest.
She hissed, jerking awake, immediately thrashing against the restraints only to slow when she realized who was standing before her.
Her eyes immediately turned black, a soft groan escaping her throat as her body reacted to the hot wax swimming over her perky tits. “Fuck,”
she tried to say, her eyes hooded.
I pulled the bowl back, studying the way her body heaved at the pain, the way her pussy clenched and her toes curled. Fuck, she was a goddamn masterpiece.
She tried to swallow her saliva as her head fell back against the chair, her eyes lifting to her tied wrists and then falling to her legs. She shifted a little, her eyes finding mine, waiting and willing, accepting her fate as I had presented it to her.
I gave her a small smile and returned the bowl back to where it belonged, picking up a floral printed leather paddle instead. I wasn’t lying when I told her that I wanted to explore. That I wanted to find everything and anything in this world that made her wet. I wanted to find everything that made that pussy tick, and I wanted to use it against her in the best and worst possible ways. Perhaps give her some more inspiration for those ‘secret’ books of hers.
I turned back to her, watching as her body shivered in anticipation, the wax already solidifying. “It’s not all about being punished for being such a bad girl. That’s something you need to learn, pup. Sometimes…”
I walked up to her, trailing the edge of that paddle across her inner thigh. “Sometimes you get rewarded too.”
I lifted the paddle and brought it down sharply right over that ‘E’.
She gasped, arching back against the pain.
“Today I saw you control the only thing you could,”
I told her, bringing it down again, closer to her pussy this time. “Your anger. I know how hard that is, controlling something you wish you could just unleash on this world,”
I went on, bringing it down again. “You’ve swallowed it for too long, but today? Today I saw real potential.”
I stepped up between her legs and slid the end of that paddle under her chin, lifting it, her beautiful eyes filled with lust, with need. “You were born for this world, a world you can thrive in if the right pieces of you are watered and forced to grow. Are you ready to grow, Olivia?”
I hummed. “Are you ready to be rewarded?”
She nodded, her tongue flicking over that ring, her hips moving forward as much as they could in the position she was in. She wanted—no, she needed more. And I was going to give it to her, every ounce of it, every inch. I was going to hand myself over to her in every way I knew how, and then I was going to learn how to do it in every way she deserved.
My smile grew. Wide and proud. I released her chin and straightened. “Good.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cellphone, watching her eyes as I took a picture of her and then pulled up the new app on my phone, pressing the button that controlled that new anal plug.
She jerked and then moaned, the sound guttural with how I had her positioned. Her eyes rolled back, her entire body shivering in pleasure.
It was on the lowest setting. Something just to get her worked up, close to the ledge, but too far away to get her off.
“Eventually, we’re going to up the size, get you ready for what’s to come,”
I explained to her, wondering if she even heard me through the new feeling spreading through her bones.
I had four of these plugs, and although anal play wasn’t at the top of my favorite list, it was close, and I knew how curious she was about it, how she had fantasized about it in her secret little books, and I couldn’t let her down. I had her own imagination to stand up against now. I had to show her that I was better than her own mind.
I brought the paddle down on the inside of her thigh again. Over and over, adding a little pressure each time before teasing her cunt with the end of it.
She groaned, drool pooling on her stomach. Fuck, I was tempted to shove my cock down that pretty little throat of hers. Make her choke on it.
Instead, I slapped the paddle down on her swollen pussy, her body tensing. “Look how pretty you are,”
I hummed, her skin flushed. “Singing just for me.”
“Please,”
I think she tried to say. “Please.”
I shivered, my cock aching to be inside of her. “I love it when you beg.”
It had only been four days, but it was four days too many. Being away from her was more difficult than I had anticipated. To the point where I wondered how difficult it would be taking her on assignments with me untrained. I could train her on the job. Fuck and kill. Kill and fuck. God, at just the thought, my cock throbbed.
Her pupils widened, swallowing her beautiful irises fully and completely. “Please,”
she tried to say again, her tongue flicking, tempting me.
I tracked the movement carefully, watching the drool drip off the end of her tongue, watching her try to swallow it. God, I was mesmerized. Everything about her captured every ounce of me. I had spent the last half a year, more or less, haunting her, and here I was being haunted by this rage-filled little enigma wrapped in a floral dress. The epitome of sunshine and fire. That’s what she was, the sun. A golden ball of rage, lighting the world up with her rare smile and her melodious laughter, with her dark stories and her beating heart.
The sunshine that had lit up the world of darkness I had come to know.
I lifted that whip, trailing it down slowly from her chin to her stomach, watching her muscles contract under it. “One day,”
I told her, my voice nothing but a low murmur, “I’ll fuck a child right into you.”
Her eyes widened, her breathing picking up.
My eyes bore into hers, studying her expression, her reaction. “Kids,”
I said on a sneer. “I never wanted them before. Ever, but then I fucked you in my kitchen, and suddenly, it was all I could think about. Fucking you until you were swollen with my child. Making sure every ounce of my cum stayed within you just to guarantee it.”
Her brows pulled together for half a second, gargled words leaving her throat before she glared. But not at me, at herself. She wanted to speak, but I didn’t need her to. I knew what she was thinking, I always knew.
“I haven’t messed with it,”
I replied, watching her shoulders fall an inch. “Not yet, it’s not the right time. I need you to myself, Olivia. But fuck,”
I whispered, my eyes drifting to her abdomen. I could see it now, my girl, her belly full with a beating heart, a perfect mixture of her light and my darkness. I didn’t care what it was, boy or girl, so long as it was ours.
Ours.
When my eyes lifted back to hers, I saw something in them that I didn’t wholly recognize. There was no word for it, not in my dictionary, but what I did know was that she understood, and she wanted it too.
God, fuck me.
I let the whip fall and walked back to my dresser where I had all of my tools laid out before me, including a tattoo kit.
With a skipping heart, I picked up a small bullet vibrator with two wide wings and returned to her, turning it on the lowest setting and easily sliding it inside of her, her body tensing, noises falling from her lips.
I returned to the dresser and gathered all of my tattooing supplies. Pulling a chair over, I spread her legs a little more and settled right in front of her pussy, angling the chair to face the inside of her left thigh. I cleaned her skin and found her tear-filled eyes. “It’s time for your first ink.”
She swallowed, whimpering at the feeling of the two vibrators going off inside of her. She was going to be exhausted by the end of the day.
I turned on the tattoo gun and got to work, no stencil, I didn’t need one. I had been tattooing my brothers and sisters for years, I didn’t need a stencil, I had my own mind to work from, and a beautiful blank canvas in desperate need of some color.
I wiped away the excess ink when I was done. I cleaned it up and wrapped her thigh up. It would be inflamed and sore for a few days, but fuck, it was pretty.
Olivia had orgasmed three times while I tattooed her. The low setting of the vibrators in both holes, and the pain of the tattoo needles put her over the edge, and fuck, if it didn’t distract me listening to her purr.
I put everything away, giving her a break from everything but the feeling of the plug, I gave myself a matching tattoo on a small blank space on my inner wrist before finally returning to her.
I carefully pulled out the ‘O’ ring, her head falling back as she slowly worked her jaw, her eyes heavy. She slurped up what saliva she could, her body trembling.
I brought over a bottle of water with a straw and allowed her to have a drink. “Are you okay?”
She took several gulps before pulling away and swallowing. “Yes,”
she said hoarsely. “I want more,”
she mumbled, trying to shove her hips forward. “Please.”
“What do you want, baby?”
I asked quietly, my heart thudding at her words, my skin breaking out in a sweat at the anticipation of what was to come.
A shiver shook through her, her muscles tensing and relaxing. “You.”
Fuck me. I carefully flicked some hair out of her eyes, my heart full. “I’ll give you the world if you so ask, but if becomes too much, you need to tell me, do you understand?”
When it came to her, I couldn’t control myself, but she was already exhausted. We both needed a limit. One neither of us would cross, one I could follow with ease.
She licked her lips, blinking slowly, but still alert, still ready. “Red,”
she said after a few seconds, lifting her head, her cheeks bright, her eyes shimmering. “That’s what they say. Red. Clear, concise. Easy to say and easy to understand.”
God, she was perfect. “Red,”
I agreed. I hadn’t even considered that. A safe word. I should have thought about it far sooner.
But I was learning too.
I was trying to learn.
“Can I see?”
she asked, glancing at my wrist.
I set the bottle down and held my new tattoo up for her, flattening the clear bandages so she could see it a little more clearly.
It was a chess piece, mine a Queen, hers a King, a black and white floral print all around it. Across the length of hers, I tattooed ‘Owned’ into her flesh, her tattoo taking up the majority of her inner thigh.
I didn’t put a word with mine. Not yet. But I would, one day. When I decided on the perfect word to sum her up, I would do it. “Yours says ‘Owned’. A King.”
She swallowed, more tears sliding down her cheeks. “It’s perfect.”
My cock throbbed at her approval. As if I had done something right by her. Something good.
“Did you like mine?”
she asked quietly, her eyes flicking to my chest and back. “You never said.”
Because I didn’t have the words.
I took off my shirt and tossed it to the bed, walking up between her legs so she could see her handy work.
Carved right into my chest, as deep as I had carved the ‘E’, was a jagged heart with the letter ‘M’ in the middle. “Mine?” I asked.
“Master,”
she replied, offering a soft smile. “My Master. Woof woof,”
she teased, her voice raspy.
Oh, fuck me. Without another thought, I walked over, pressing the button on the side of the wall, watching as the chair and hook slowly lowered until her pussy was at hip level.
I unbuckled my pants and dropped them, stepping out of them, revealing my entire being to her for the first time since meeting her. I didn’t want to hide from her. I wanted her to see it all. To see the pieces nobody else was allowed to come near. I wanted her to see everything.
She looked me over, her eyes lighting up, her hands wrapping around her restraints. “Everett,”
she whispered, her eyes lifting from my body to my eyes.
I stepped up to her, sliding my hand across the side of her face back into her hair, her thighs trembling against mine as I slowly used my other hand to position my cock, teasing her dripping cunt.
She gasped, trying to grind her hips against me, her head falling against mine.
Something so intimate, so perfect…I knew the first time I had put my head to hers that I was done for. I just ignored it. I lied to myself, to the world about it. I punished myself for feeling it. For feeling this.
I slid the head of my cock up and down her swollen cunt, feeling her body tense desperately, before I shoved my hips forward, inhaling sharply as her pants filled the air, her cunt so sensitive, she felt it in her toes.
I hated myself for it. Hated her. A pussy wasn’t supposed to be addicting, but her pussy? Her mind? The way she saw the world, the way she wrote about it? How could I resist?
How could anyone resist?
I sank myself deep into her. Until my balls hit her cunt, her thighs clenching, her body tensing.
“Fuck,”
she whimpered.
I gripped her head against mine, sliding my other hand over her stomach, and I began fucking her like she deserved. Deep, and hard, and unforgiving.
“Fuck,”
I panted, brushing my lips against hers, teasing her with my tongue, my head spinning, my heart racing, butterflies erupting throughout my veins. “Fuck, Olivia,”
I whimpered. I needed her. I needed her more than I needed a gun in my hand, more than I needed to feel the shattering of bones against my fist. I needed her like I needed air to breathe.
“God,”
I moaned, feeling her everywhere. “Lie to me,”
I ordered her breathlessly. “Lie to me like the good whore you are.”
She groaned, bucking her hips forward as much as she could. “I hate you,”
she panted, my eyes flashing open, locking with hers.
They were wide, vulnerable, glimmering with tears and fire, her moans falling from her lips as she nodded desperately. “I hate you,”
she grunted. “I hate you so much, Everett, fuck, I hate you.”
My heart slammed against my ribs, something like adrenaline flooding through me, the rush unlike anything I had ever felt before.
Her jaw went slack, her face contorting as her pussy clamped down around mine. “Oh, God!”
I couldn’t control myself. Something within me snapped and I fucking dug my fingers into her skull and slammed into her with every ounce of who I was, her body slamming back against the chair, her cries becoming untethered and chaotic as she came around me, warmth flooding over my cock, spurts of her cum splashing against my hips every time I pulled out and slammed back in.
“Oh fuck,”
I groaned, our eyes locked.
“I hate you, I hate you,”
she fumbled, tears streaming down her face. “I fucking hate you.”
I groaned, exploding inside of her, emptying myself into her over and over again, until she had squeezed my dry. Until I had nothing left to give. Until all of me had woven into every vein of her.
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, her body going limp when I finally slowed. She swallowed hard, her lips parted on a silent breath. “Red,”
she mumbled.
My hand, as if something else had taken control, immediately loosened. I leaned back, searching her face as I carefully pulled out of her. She was a mess.
I was a mess.
But she had never looked more beautiful.
I carefully untangled myself from her and reached for the ribbon, pulling on a single piece, and watching as it fluttered away from her bruised wrists.
I unstrapped her feet next and gently picked her up, carrying her to my bed, her body limp like a ragdoll in my arms.
I laid her down gently and headed for the kitchen, filling up a warm bowl of water and grabbing a washcloth and brush from my bathroom on the way back.
She had already fallen asleep by the time I returned, but I took the time to clean her off and brush her hair, braiding it back so it would be easier to wash later.
“Be Vulnerable,”
Greyson had said. I didn’t know if this was vulnerable or not, but it felt right. Taking care of her felt right.
I pulled the blankets back and pulled them over her, tucking her in as she breathed softly. She would wake up sore and drained, in need of water and food, but she would wake up safe.
I ran my fingers across her cheek, the motion alien and unfamiliar. Affection was not my strong suit. It never has been, but I was trying for her, and I hoped what I was doing was enough. I had never put a girl through anything like that, and when I put her through something similar, I kicked them out when I was done. I didn’t care how it affected them or what they thought of me afterwards, it was a one and done deal, aside from the girls I used to have on standby whenever I came to town, but sex with them was rough and quick, nothing like this.
But Olivia?
My Olivia?
I wasn’t sure if this was enough, maybe it was something we would have to talk about, but I hoped, for now, it was good enough.
I swallowed as I took her in, her words repeating themselves over and over in my head.
“Lie to me.”
“I hate you.”
My heart skipped again, and I carefully pushed a few loose strands away from her eyes, searching her face, allowing myself, just for a moment, to feel this. “I hate you too,”
I mumbled after a few seconds. “I hate you too, baby.”
I sat there, stroking her soft face for another few moments before standing up and heading to the bathroom to clean myself up, wondering how many times I had thought about how much I hated her when in reality, the hate was masking something I was too afraid to feel.