Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
CHAOS
Ihear the bike outside, then slow, heavy footsteps on the porch. I stand and move into the hallway. When the door opens, she stands in front of me, soaked in blood. She slams it shut and lets the helmet fall from her hands. It hits the floor and rolls to the wall.
I rush to her, hands scanning her arms, her sides, her back. She stands frozen, eyes locked somewhere behind me. I look at her face, searching for a wound that isn’t there. Blood is not hers.
What happened? I sign.
She only shakes her head. Her eyes lift to mine, but her gaze is empty, like something inside her broke and never came back.
I slide my hands down to her thighs and guide her forward, pressing her against me as I carry her toward the bathroom. I lean her over the shower edge and turn the water on. Cold water hits both of us, soaking her clothes, streaking the blood down her skin, and into the drain.
She gasps and blinks, like she is waking from a nightmare.
Her eyes find mine.
“I…” Her voice cracks. “I…”
It’s okay. I sign. It’s okay.
My hand glides along her leg, down her thigh. I lift her knee and lock her against my hips, holding her there as the water runs over us.
“You… c-c-came,” I whisper into her ear, my lips brushing her neck. The last of the blood washes from her clothes and spills across the tiles.
“Yes,” she breathes, her palm sliding over my chest, searching for my heart that has forgotten how to beat.
I look down at her and catch her face in my hands, pulling her close until her lips part against mine. I kiss her, my tongue finding hers as her breath stutters between us.
“Fuck me to forget everything we ever did,” she whispers. “Fuck me so hard that what’s left of us hurts less.”
I nod.
My fingers hook into the edge of her shirt and pull it up over her head, tossing it aside. I didn’t ask anything. Whatever happened doesn’t matter. All that exists is this moment and the two of us standing under falling water.
Her hands drop to her jeans, undoing the buttons. When the last one gives, I help her slide them down, tugging them from her legs. She lifts her foot, and her hand trails along my arm, squeezing every muscle.
She is gentle, like every ounce of power has been drained from her, like what is left is barely holding on. When her jeans slip down her hips, I glide my fingers from her ankles all the way up to her thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin. I lift her leg and lock it against my hip.
I spin her around and lean her against the shower glass, turning the water to warm. Her wet hair is plastered to her face and the glass, her palms braced against it, her fingers twisting as they might snap at any second.
I spread her legs with my knee and tug down my soaked sweatpants, my cock already pulsing hard in my hand. Her body glows in the dim bathroom light, every drop of water sliding down her spine, slipping between her legs. She arches her back, gasping as the stream runs over her face.
I grab her ass, pulling her cheeks apart, making her twitch.
I step closer, my cock tapping against her throbbing pussy.
I lean in, then pull back, teasing her, dragging myself across her sensitive flesh.
I release my grip and guide myself, pressing forward until she takes just the tip.
Her tight walls clench around me, and it takes a few slow thrusts before I sink all the way in, her ass meeting my skin with a sharp, wet sound.
There is something in that single gasp when she takes me fully, something that snaps in my chest. After that, it turns into a fight, my pace building as I drive into her, harder, deeper.
I hold her in place, pulling back, then pushing in again.
Her breasts press against the glass, bouncing, her nipples getting tight and dark.
Water pours over my head as I lean in, my mouth collapses at her shoulder, teeth grazing her skin before I bite, then suck the water from her.
I pull her closer and slam into her again.
One hand slides up to her throat, my breath hot in her ear as she tightens around me. My other hand moves down her body, from her breasts to between her legs.
My fingers glide down her clit, slipping together, then parting her, tracing over my cock before circling back to her clit.
“L-l-little sister,” words broke, “you ar-r-re... g-g-hoing to lo-ov-v-ee me.”
I struggle to speak, my fingers slapping her clit, spanking her in frustration.
She gasps, fingers digging into my skin, trying to hold on as I tighten my grip, stealing her breath. Between broken breaths, she whispers, “I… I…”
I slam into her harder.
“I love you.” She whispers in one breath.
A smirk breaks across my mouth as I shove her away, grab her waist, and start to fuck her harder now. Every thrust shatters my words.
“You,” slam, “love,” slam, “me.”
She nods, moaning. “Yes,” she gasps. “Yes. I do.”
I pull her back against me, grip her chin, tilt her head up. My teeth graze her ear as I whisper, “Mine.”
“Yes,” she moans, lowering herself on me.
Her hands fall to her ass, spreading herself wider, opening more for my cock.
I sink another inch inside her, feel her drop all the way down onto my skin.
My pace stays relentless, my fingers moving back on her pussy, circling her clit, twisting her into my rhythm.
“Show,” I gasp. “Me.”
She pulls away, my cock sliding slowly out of her. She turns, faces me. She smiles, kisses my neck, then drags her teeth over my skin, biting, before her tongue traces a slow path down my chest, over my muscles, down to my hard cock.
Her nails close around my balls, and I groan.
“This is mine, Judas. Get it,” she says, sucking my skin. “And you will lose them if you ever try to fuck anyone else.”
Fuck.
I nod.
She slides her hand up my cock, grips it, and guides it from her chin to her mouth. She takes me in, sucking, sliding down until the tip presses deep, making her gag.
I bite my lower lip and push forward, thrusting into her mouth, my cock driving deeper down her throat. My hand slides to her neck, my thumb rubbing slowly, coaxing her.
She takes every inch.
I pull back, grab her chin, and lift her face to mine. I wipe the spit from her lips with my thumb, drag it across her mouth, then bring it back to mine, sucking it in.
She tastes so damn good, even with a faint trace of me.
Our eyes lock, hungry and wild. She shoves me against the wall, my hand slamming into the cold tiles. She gathers her hair, pulls it over her shoulder, turns away from me, then reaches back, grabs my cock, and drives it inside her as she moans.
I grab her waist and slam her harder down onto me, keeping my pace, and drive into her faster.
I turned her into my little slut.
She cups her breasts, squeezing them, and our eyes meet in the reflection of the glass. I watch her lip caught between her teeth as her hand glides down to her clit, moving slowly under her fingertips. Her eyes roll back, her mouth falling open in pleasure.
I groan against her ear, feeling the pressure building, my cock swelling inside her.
She keeps circling her clit as I slam into her. One hand reaches back, holding onto me as I keep going. My hand slides down over hers, our fingers tangling as she moves her hips in slow circles. Both of us work her clit together, making her thighs tremble.
“Fuck.” I feel her tighten around me, making me roll my eyes as my cock stays sensitive inside her. She draws every drop out of me as she collapses back against me, her breath breaking into slow, shattered gasps as her pleasure crashes over her again.
“Yes,” she moans. “God, yes.”
She drags her lip between her teeth and speeds her fingers over her clit until she can’t anymore.
I pull out, spin her around, and slam her against the tiles. My hand closes around her throat, her mouth opening as mine crashes into hers, swallowing every last sound she makes. Our tongues twist together, and I devour her mouth like it is my last meal.
Because if I were facing death, I would ask for her.
I would burn this world for her. I would drown everyone in it if it meant having her. She got under my skin and became part of me. This obsession I can’t rip out, and if there is a cure for whatever this is, I don’t want it.
All I want is her.
We lie on the bed, her head tucked on my chest. Her breathing rises and falls against my skin, and I can feel every single breath on me.
Outside, night already swallowed the day.
My phone starts to buzz against the mattress.
I let it vibrate, pressing my palm over it, trying to hold this moment still.
But it buzzes again.
The screen lights up, and Nico’s name flashes across it.
He never calls. My chest tightens. I swipe to answer.
“Judas, Judas,” he says, his breath scraping in and out.
“Fuck. I don’t even know if you can hear me, but you have to run.
The President found out you’re Harrington.
He knows you and Carmen are at your house.
You have to go before he comes. They’ll shoot you both.
The cops know where you live. It’s bad, man.
” He sucks in a breath, like he’s drowning. “Just run.”
I don’t say anything. I just couldn’t say anything.
I turn the phone off and swing my legs off the bed.
She stirs, blinking up at me, hair falling into her eyes.
I sign fast towards her. We have to go. They found us.
Her face drains of color. She’s moving before I finish the sentence.
We crash into the closet, our hands grabbing whatever they touch. Clothes slide off hangers and hit the floor. I shove some of it into the backpack and zip it closed. My sneakers scrape against the floor as I jam my feet in, laces hanging loose. There is no time to tie it.
She pulls on her shoes. And as soon as she does, I catch her hand, and we run down the hallway. The front door slams open as we run outside.