16. Gage
16
Dragging her inside the derelict cabin, my hands tremble. I found this place the other day: the perfect playground. The voices in my head scream at me to end her, to silence the temptation she presents, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I want her too goddamn much.
I force her to the floor, my muscles straining with the effort to control my primal urges. Her eyes are full of a darkness that mirrors mine. There’s no fear in her gaze, only a ravenous hunger that sends shivers down my spine.
“Do it,” she whispers, her voice laced with a seductive challenge. “Show me the monster you really are.”
I hesitate, my grip on sanity slipping. The darkness is closing in, whispering temptations that make my skin crawl. I want to give in, to let the darkness consume us both, but a part of me clings to the last vestiges of control.
“I can’t,” I growl, my voice strained.
She reaches up, her fingers trailing along the edge of my mask. “You can,” she breathes, her touch igniting a fire within me that threatens to consume us both.
I close my eyes, trying to block out the voices, memories, and ever-present darkness that haunt me. But Aurora’s there, a beacon in the shadows, daring me to embrace the monster I’ve become.
Unable to hold back any longer, the monster claws its way to the surface, shattering what little control I had left. Her defiant gaze ignites an inferno, and I let the darkness consume me completely.
With a feral growl, I tear the remaining few scraps of fabric from her body, leaving her naked before me. Aurora doesn’t flinch or cower. Her eyes alight with depraved hunger. I commit every curve, every blemish to memory.
“So beautiful,” I rasp, my voice thick with desire. “And all mine.”
I move with a predator’s grace, retrieving a coil of rope from the corner of the cabin. Her gaze follows me, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. I can smell her arousal, sweet and intoxicating, and it drives me wild.
Without a word, I bind her wrists together, the rough fibers biting into her delicate skin. She doesn’t protest, doesn’t fight me. She submits willingly, surrendering herself to the darkness we both crave.
I work quickly and expertly, weaving the ropes around her body in intricate patterns. As I do, I notice a few scars on her back, wondering who harmed her. If I ever find out, I’ll murder them.
Each loop, each knot, is a declaration of my dominance, a testament to her submission. She’s putty in my hands, and I mold her into a living work of art, her flesh bound and constrained by my will.
As I work, the darkness swirls around us, caressing us with its icy tendrils. It’s a part of us, an inescapable force that binds us in this dance of depravity.
When the last knot is tied, I step back to admire my creation. She’s a vision, her body contorted and restrained, her skin flushed with a mixture of pain and pleasure. The ropes cut into her flesh, leaving angry red marks that only heighten the perverse beauty of the scene.
“Mine,” I growl, a primal rumble reverberating through the cabin. “You belong to me and the darkness.”
The knife glints in the dim light of the cabin, a sinister smile curving my lips. With deliberate slowness, I trace the sharpened edge along her skin, drawing a shallow and thin crimson line. She gasps, her body arching against the restraints, her breath coming in ragged pants. I savor the tang on my tongue as I lick the shallow cut, tasting her blood.
Her moan sends a shiver down my spine. I press the knife slightly deeper this time, relishing the way her flesh parts under the blade. It’s not deep enough to truly harm, but enough to make her bleed. I lap up her blood greedily, growling softly. The metallic tang excites me, fueling the fire in my veins.
Her eyes widen as she feels the blade, but instead of fear, her face contorts with pleasure. She’s broken, just like me. Pain makes her feel good, just like fear and terror make me feel good. Reaching between her thighs, I rub her soaking wet pussy roughly. With a desperate cry, her body convulses, her release triggered so easily. Her pussy squirts, soaking the floor beneath her, mixing with some of the blood that has dripped onto the floor.
I lean in close, my hot breath tickling her ear. “Do you like that, little one?” I whisper, my voice hoarse with restrained desire. “Do you like the feel of my knife against your skin?”
Her body shuddering as her orgasm subsides. “Yes,” she breathes, her voice laced with shame and craving. “Please give me more...”
The hunger in her voice sets my body on edge, and I struggle to maintain control. I want to give her what she craves, to push her to the very limits of pleasure and pain. But I fear there may be no turning back for either of us if I do.
The shadows in the cabin dance with anticipation, goading me to surrender. I can feel the edges of my sanity fraying. With a snarl, I drag the knife down her back, reveling in the way she bucks against her bonds.
Her flesh quivers, her breathing rapid and erratic. “Again,” she pleads, her voice hoarse.
I oblige, slicing the blade across her delicate skin, painting her body with her own blood. Each cut is a testament to our shared descent into depravity, a mark of our hungry devotion to the darkness that binds us.
Aurora’s scream pierces the air, a symphony of pleasure and pain that sends a jolt straight to my groin. I can’t resist anymore. The beast within me breaks free, clawing at the chains of my restraint. With a growl, I drop the knife.
Her eyes are glazed with lust as she gazes up at me, her body glistening with sweat and blood and still bound so prettily. I need to be inside her. Now.
I adjust her position, her bound wrists and ankles straining against the ropes as I move her into place. She moans, fueling my desire. I can’t think straight; the darkness has consumed me, clouding my mind with nothing but the need to claim her, to make her mine in the most primal way possible.
I free my cock and thrust into her with all the pent-up hunger and rage that’s been building. She gasps, her eyes widening at the sudden invasion, but I don’t stop. I pound into her with ferocious need, grunting with each deep stroke.
The scent of blood fills my nostrils, clouding my senses and pushing me further into the depths of my madness. I lean down, lapping at the shallow cuts on her shoulder, tasting the sweet mixture of blood and sweat. I crave more.
I bite down on her flesh, marking her with my teeth, leaving bruises that will deepen into violet shadows. She cries out in pain, and it only makes me wilder. I’m an animal driven by instinct and the raw, carnal need.
Her hips move in rhythm with mine, her body responding to mine as if we were one. Her wounds bleed again as I lick and kiss them, wanting to devour her and merge our bodies until there is no distinction between us.
I don’t care about gentleness or tenderness; this is a raw, unleashed passion fueled by the darkness that has brought us together.
“You like that, huh?” I growl. “You like the way I tear into you, little one?”
“Yes, please... more...” She gasps.
I lean down, my lips brushing her ear. “You’re mine now,” I whisper. “A pretty little toy for me to play with.” Reaching between our bodies, I rub my hand against her clit, pushing her toward her release.
With each thrust, I claim her as my own, marking her flesh with bruises and bites. Her cries fill the cabin, fueling my desire. Her body tightens around my cock, her release building.
“That’s it,” I snarl. “Come for me, little one. Let me feel you shatter.”
Her back arches, her body convulsing as her orgasm rips through her. I feel her walls clenching around me, milking my release. With a savage growl, I let go, spilling myself into her, marking her with my cum.
I take in the sight of her, bound and splayed out before me. Her body glistens with sweat and blood, the ropes chaffing her delicate skin. My handiwork.
A dark satisfaction fills me as I watch her chest heave with each labored breath. I’ve possessed her body and soul, and the knowledge sends a rush of power through me.
“You wanted the monster,” I whisper, tracing a finger along her jaw, reveling in her vulnerability. “And now you have him.”
Using the knife, I cut the ropes which bind her body. Once free, she stretches and pins me with a gaze that takes my breath away.
“Can I see your face?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I stiffen, my grip on her hips tightening involuntarily. “No,” I growl, my voice harsh and unyielding.
She flinches at my tone but doesn’t back down. “Why not?” she presses, her fingers reaching up to trace the edge of my mask.
I catch her wrist in my hand, stopping her movement. “Because I said so,” I snap, my jaw clenching behind the mask.
She frowns, her brow furrowing in confusion and frustration. “But I want to see you,” she insists, her voice growing stronger. “I want to know who you are.”
I let out a harsh laugh, the sound bitter and cold. “Trust me, little one, you don’t want that,” I insist. “I’m not the man you bring home to meet your parents.”
She sits up, her eyes flashing with defiance. “I don’t care about that,” she says, her voice firm. “I want to know the real you, the man behind the mask.”
I shake my head, my grip on her wrist tightening. “He’s a monster,” I growl. “A killer, a psychopath. You don’t want to see that.”
She meets my gaze, her eyes boring into mine. “I’m not afraid of you,” she breathes, her free hand coming up to cup my cheek through the mask. “I know there’s more to you than just the darkness.”
I close my eyes, my heart clenching at her words. Part of me wants to believe her, let her in, and show her the man behind the monster. But I know it’s impossible. The darkness is too deeply ingrained in me, too much a part of who I am.
“You should be afraid,” I tell her. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, the things I’ve done.”
“I think I have some idea after you almost murdered a girl in front of me and told me that you’d normally strangle a girl for crying.” Her lips curve into a slight smile. “I’m not going anywhere. You can show me your face when you’re ready.”
I pull out of her, tucking my spent cock back into my pants. My heart pounds as I reach for the blanket I had stashed in the corner, ready to wrap up my latest victim. But Aurora isn’t a victim, not in the traditional sense. She’s a willing participant in our wicked dance, a partner in the darkness that consumes me.
Still, what we’ve done settles heavily on my shoulders. I can’t let Aurora get too close; I can’t let her burrow her into the tattered remnants of my soul. The monster inside me is too dangerous, too unpredictable. She may think she wants this, but she doesn’t.
“Get out,” I growl, tossing the blanket at her. “Cover yourself up and get the fuck out of here.”
She catches the blanket, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What? Why?” she asks.
I turn away, unable to meet her gaze. “You need to leave,” I say, my voice low. “This was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” she echoes, anger creeping into her tone. “You didn’t seem to think it was a mistake when you were fucking me like an animal.”
I flinch at her words. “That’s exactly why you need to go,” I snap, whirling around to face her. “I’m not the man you want in your life, Aurora. I’m a goddamn monster.”
She holds my gaze, her eyes blazing with defiance. “Maybe I want a monster,” she says, her voice steady and sure. “And I’m not going anywhere until you tell me when I can see you again.”
I let out a harsh laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. “Trust me, little one, you’re better off forgetting this ever happened.”
She arches an eyebrow, her lips curving into a slight smirk. “That’s not an answer,” she says, holding her phone. “Give me your number.”
I’m torn between amusement and frustration. This girl is insane. Yet a part of me is drawn to her fearlessness and unwavering determination.
With a sigh, I snatch the phone from her hand and punch in my number, adding it to her contacts. As I hand it back to her, our fingers brush, and my cock swells.
“Happy now?” I growl, stepping back to put some distance between us.
She glances at the screen, a small smile playing on her lips. “For now,” she says, clutching her phone and blanket. “I’ll be in touch.”
I can’t tear my gaze away from the sight of her as she wraps herself in the blanket. She moves with a grace that belies the marks I’ve left on her, a living testament to the depravity we’ve shared.
As she turns to leave, she pauses, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “You can run from this all you want,” she says. “But eventually, you’ll have to face the truth.”
With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the night like a phantom. I’m left alone in the cabin, surrounded by the echoes of our encounter, the scent of blood and sex hanging heavy in the air.
I sink to the floor, my head in my hands, my mind reeling. What the hell have I gotten myself into?