Chapter 14 Caius #2
I pull my fingers out and show him the wet. He nods, slow, eyes never leaving her.
I put the fingers to her mouth, force them between her lips.
“Suck,” I order.
She shakes her head.
I press the fingers in again, and this time she opens, her tongue swirling around them, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Good girl,” I say again, softer.
I pull my hand free, and just stare.
Only a few minutes until dawn.
Her chest is heaving, nipples raw and peaked, skin flushed.
I let go of her wrists, and she sags, defeated.
But her eyes are still alive.
I grab her chin, make her look at me, “One more for me, baby girl. Just one more.”
I spread her thighs wider, pinning them with my knees, and press my palm to her clit, rubbing hard and fast.
She squirms, then shakes. Her hands go to my arm, nails digging in, but she doesn’t try to stop me.
Her breath goes ragged, her body tightens.
I want her to come again. I want to break her on my hand, right here, right now.
She tries to fight it, but her hips rock into my touch, desperate.
“You want it,” I say, grinning. “You fucking need it.”
She shakes her head, but her body says yes.
I press harder, fingers working her, pushing her to the edge.
She whimpers, tries to stifle the sound.
I lean in, mouth at her ear. “Let go.”
She shudders, a sob ripped from her throat.
And then she breaks.
She comes, hard, thighs clamping around my hand, nails raking my arm. Her head slams back against the tree, eyes squeezed shut.
I work her through it, not letting up until she’s a quivering mess.
When it’s over, she collapses, breath hitching.
I pull my hand away, slick with her and then I kiss her, slow and deep.
This time she doesn’t fight.
I wipe her tears away, gentle.
“You’re mine,” I whisper. “Say it.”
She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t pull away.
I hold her there, pressed to the tree, and wait for the next move.
The sun crests the horizon, pale and gold.
Time’s up.
I unzip, cock hard and aching, and line myself up with her.
She sees it, eyes going wide.
But she doesn’t move.
She just braces herself, opening her thighs for me.
And I know, in that second, she’s already mine.
I press the head to her, let her feel it.
She shakes, but holds my gaze.
I thrust in, hard and fast.
Her nails rake down my back, finding the old cuts and new ones, leaving her own. I grind my hips in, deeper, and she wails, a sound that’s part pain, part defiance. Her teeth snap at my jaw. She bites before moaning, her teeth unclenching as she sucks.
I pin her arms again, wrists crossed over her head, and slam her into the trunk with every thrust. The bark shreds her skin, but she doesn’t beg. She just opens her mouth in a little ‘o’ and meets every drive with a twist of her own.
We’re not making love. We’re making war.
My cock throbs inside her, every inch of me desperate to claim, to mark, to own. I want to hollow her out and fill her up until there’s nothing left but the echo of my name in her blood.
She sobs, but there’s no weakness in it. If anything, it’s beautiful. The sound of her allowing me in.
I cup her chin, squeeze until her mouth pops open, then fuck the words out of her.
“You hate me?” I say, breathless.
She nods, lips slick with spit and blood.
“Say it.”
Her voice is shredded, almost gone. “I hate you. I hate you I hate—”
I shut her up with a hand over her mouth, pounding into her harder, the rhythm raw and merciless. The tree shakes behind us, leaves raining down like confetti.
Julian watches from the edge, hands folded, face a study in polite disinterest. But his eyes are alive, burning with a secret hunger. The others are further out, but I know they can see, can hear the animal sounds we make as I ruin her.
I can’t look away from her face. The way her eyes roll back, then snap to mine, pleading for something she won’t name. The way her lips fight against my hand, desperate for air or words or both.
I ease up, just a fraction, and she gasps, sucking in air like a drowning thing.
“Please,” she whimpers, but I don’t know if it’s a plea to stop or to keep going.
I wipe the tears off her cheeks, thumb soft on her skin.
“Say you’re mine.”
Finally… finally, she chokes the words out.
“I’m yours, Cai… I’m yours,” and I fuck her harder as they settle in my gut.
Her body gives before her mind does. She comes again, nails digging furrows in my arms, her legs locking around my waist. The heat and the grip of her almost finishes me, but I bite her shoulder, taste the blood, and hold back.
“Look at me,” I demand.
She does. There’s no more hate, but there’s not much love there, some, but not enough. There’s want too, pure and wild.
I slow, grinding into her in short, brutal circles. My hand finds her throat, squeezing just enough to make her eyes flutter. The other hand traces her collarbone, then the mark I left with my bite.
“You’re beautiful,” I say, and I mean it.
She laughs, a wrecked little sound, and for the first time I see the cracks in her armor.
I keep going, slow and deep, letting her feel every inch. I want to memorize this—her body, her sounds, the way she’s both my downfall and my heaven.
The sun breaks through the trees, gold and raw. It catches in her hair, makes her skin glow.
I come, hard, pulsing inside her, and she shudders, eyes wide, lips parted.
I stay there, buried in her, holding her up against the tree.
She’s shaking, but she doesn’t look away.
I press my lips to her ear. “You did good.”
When it’s over, I don’t let go.
I hold her, lips at her ear.
“It’s done,” I say, voice broken. “You’ve been claimed. You’re mine, Ophelia, come hell or high water.”
She cries, silent, but she holds on, too.
The Hunt is over.
The ritual is complete.
And she’s finally home.
She goes limp, the fight leaking out of her with every shaky breath.
The Boys are gone. Even Julian has melted into the woods. It’s just us and the welts across our skin as we hold each other.
I pull out, cock wet and limp, and tuck myself away. I let her slide down the tree, catching her before she hits the ground.
She curls up, knees to her chest, arms wrapped tight.
I crouch next to her, not touching, just watching.
She’s a mess. Hair matted, dress torn off, blood and sap and tears all over her. But she’s alive.
I reach out, slow, and brush her hair off her face.
She flinches, but doesn’t pull away.
“You did it, baby girl. You did it. Now comes the easy part.”
She laughs, a sick little giggle. “Yeah? Do I get to dress up and look like a corpse bride now? Do we get married on the same alter where they spilled my blood, or do I get to have a bath first?”
I chuckle. “We can discuss the rest after you’ve eaten, slept and had medical attention. Your things are already moved to our wing. Into my room. Alternate arrangements will be made after the ceremony.”
I slip my jacket off and drape it over her shoulders. She clutches it tight against her.
I sit with her, backs to the tree, and stare at the sky. The sun is up, the ritual done, but I don’t feel any different.
She’s silent a long time. Then: “What happens now?”
I look at her, at the way her eyes refuse to cry anymore.
“You rest. Then you get up. And we carry on, together.”
She snorts. “And you?”
I shrug. “I’m yours, just as you’re mine. You say jump, I’ll vault the fucking stars for you. You say lie down and die, and I’ll ask you how deep I should cut. This night… it’s not for show. It’s for life.”
She turns, mouth open to retort, but I cut her off with a kiss. This one is soft, gentle, the kind you’d give a girl you actually cared about.
She freezes, shocked.
I pull back, licking the last of her blood from my lip.
“You’re mine,” I say, final.
She closes her eyes, breathes deep.
“Yeah,” she admits. “I am.”
We stay there until the sun is fully up, until the world is loud again.
When she finally stands, she doesn’t need my help, but accepts it when I offer it.
“Let me carry you home.”
She starts to argue before sighing and opening her arms for me to pick her up.
“You owe me a really nice bath.”
“I can do that, baby girl. I can do that.”