Chapter 9 #2
I angle my hips, grinding against her clit with every thrust, the friction pushing her over.
"Come for me," I command, voice low and dark.
She shatters, pussy convulsing around my cock, milking me as she cries my name.
Waves of pleasure rip through her, body shaking, eyes rolling back.
I don't stop, chasing my own release.
Pulling out, I flip her over, bending her across the desk.
Her ass lifts, round and firm, pussy glistening and open.
I slap her cheek, watching it redden, then thrust back in from behind, deeper this way.
My hands grip her hips, bruising fingerprints into her pale skin, as I rut into her like an animal.
She pushes back, meeting every plunge, moaning as papers crunch under her elbows. "Fill me," she gasps. "Mark me inside."
The words undo me.
I slam home one last time, cock throbbing as I cum, hot spurts flooding her pussy, spilling out around us.
I grind through it, prolonging the ecstasy, until we're both spent, collapsing in a tangle of limbs.
I pull her up against my chest, still buried inside her, lips brushing her ear. "Mine now. Completely."
She nods, turning to kiss me softly amid the chaos. "Yours. In every darkness."
Afterward, we lie on the leather couch I'd moved into the library last year, her body curved against mine, skin still flushed and breathing still ragged.
She traces patterns on my chest—letters, I realize.
Writing words on my skin.
"What are you writing?"
"Mine," she says simply. "If I'm yours, you're mine too."
"I've been yours since the moment I read your first book. Since I recognized a kindred spirit hiding behind fiction."
She's quiet for a moment. "Tell me about them. Your parents."
I tense, but her hand continues its soothing motion. "They adopted us when I was thirteen and Juliette was eleven. Everyone thought they were saints. Rich couple taking in damaged foster kids."
"But they weren't saints."
"They were monsters wearing human masks. Richard liked control. Patricia liked to watch. They had very specific ideas about discipline, about teaching us to be grateful for their generosity."
"They hurt you."
"They tried to break us. There's a difference." I pull her closer. "Juliette was younger, more fragile. I made sure most of their attention was on me. Better me than her."
"How did they die?"
"Carbon monoxide leak. Tragic accident. All the windows sealed shut, no way to escape once it started." My voice is flat, emotionless. "I was away at school. Juliette was at a friend's house. Perfect alibis."
She doesn't ask if it was really an accident.
She knows.
Just like she knows about Roy, about the others.
And she's still here, naked in my arms, choosing me.
"My turn," she says. "Tell me about Rebecca Harrison."
I'm surprised she knows the name. "Juliette told you?"
"She warned me you were intense. That Rebecca left town because of you."
"Rebecca left town because I showed her what her boyfriend really was. David Reese liked to hurt women but was smart enough to make it look consensual. Rebecca didn't believe me until I showed her the videos of him with other girls. Unconscious girls."
"You killed him."
"Car accident. Brake lines are so unreliable on old cars." I stroke her hair. "Rebecca couldn't handle knowing what I'd done for her. She was grateful but terrified. So, I let her go."
"You won't let me go."
"No. Because you're not terrified. You're not grateful. You're complicit." I tilt her chin up to look at me. "You know what I am, and you're choosing to stay. That makes you mine forever."
"Forever's a long time."
"Not long enough."
A sound outside makes us both freeze—a car engine, getting closer.
I move to the window, careful to stay out of sight—Sheriff's cruiser.
"It's my father," Celeste says, quickly pulling on her clothes. "How did he—"
"Your car. He must have been looking for you, saw it parked here." I'm already dressed, mind calculating options. "He's alone. That's good."
"Good? He's here to arrest you."
"He's here to find you. There's a difference." I hand her her jacket. "Go out the back. Circle around to your car. Tell him you were walking, needed air, got lost in the dark."
"He won't believe that."
"He will if the alternative is believing you were here with me."
She kisses me hard, desperate. "This isn't over."
"No. It's just beginning."
She slips out the back as Sterling's knock echoes through the cabin.
I wait thirty seconds, then answer, looking appropriately disheveled as if woken from sleep.
"Sheriff. It's late."
"Lockwood." His hand rests on his weapon. "Is my daughter here?"
"Your daughter?" I blink, confused. "Why would she be here?"
"Her car's parked down the road."
"Lots of people park there for night hikes. The trailhead's popular."
He tries to look past me into the cabin. "You won't mind if I look around?"
"Do you have a warrant?"
His jaw tightens. "No."
"Then yes, I mind." I lean against the doorframe. "But if you're worried about Celeste, you might want to check the trails. Easy to get turned around in the dark."
He stares at me for a long moment, and I can see him calculating.
His daughter's strange behavior.
The way she defended me.
"Stay away from her," he says finally.
"Or what? You'll protect her like you protected all those women from Jake?"
The color drains from his face. "What did you just say?"
"I said goodnight, Sheriff."
I close the door in his face, listening as he stands there for a full minute before his footsteps retreat.
Through the window, I watch him find Celeste by her car, playing the part of the lost walker perfectly.
He hugs her, relief evident in every line of his body.
But over his shoulder, she looks back at my cabin.
Even from here, I can see the promise in her eyes.
She'll be back.
And next time, she won't leave.