Chapter 40
KANE
Sasha pinches a cube of meat between her thin fingers, holding it out to me. “Hungry?”
“It’s not even cooked.”
Because that is my complaint when the menu is human flesh. The fact it’s fucking raw.
Eating human flesh is the least of my sins after months of gaining Rowan’s trust. Even more horrifically, his respect. But I have one piece of humanity left—my wife.
“It tastes better like this.” Sasha shrugs before she throws the cube into her mouth. “You’re too picky.”
I let my head drop back, closing my eyes as the jet hums. The vibrations are soothing, reminding me I’m alive. A little longer, then I’ll have my humanity in my arms. A little longer, and I won’t be stuck with my new assistant who chews with her mouth open.
My foot flies into her shin when the sound of her chomping gets louder. “Close your fucking mouth.”
Sasha rests her boney elbows on the edge of the table and grips the bottom of her new mask, pulling it down to expose her mouth so I can see her chew.
The make-up she’s applied to it has settled into each small pore of the material.
I don’t know what it’s made from since she’s neurotic about her masks, but I can see the half-chewed, gristly flesh in her mouth as she pushes her tongue forward like an ill-behaved child.
“Keep doing it. I’ll take your food off you.
” My threat makes her emerald eyes widen as she quickly snaps her mouth closed.
The chewing isn’t amplified anymore, but I can still hear it.
It’s even worse when she gulps. Her eyes narrow beneath the mask as she sheepishly moves her hand to collect another cube of meat from the bag of food Rowan gave her for our trip.
“What are you going to do on the island?” I ask to set the weirdo at ease.
“I’ve never been allowed to go before, so I’ll wait here for you.”
“You’re not going to the house with me?”
She shakes her head, discreetly reaching for another cube. “I’m not allowed.”
“Fuck that, you’re with me. You can come if you want.”
She sighs, rolling her eyes as she stops herself from shoving the meat into her mouth. “You’re going to get me in trouble. I like you now. You taste like berries today.”
The jet begins its descent and I soften my voice. “Will you be okay waiting for me?”
Her lips curve in the distorted lips of her mask, showing her immaturity as she snatches the plastic-lined bag of her treats to hold them up. “I have my food. This—” She pushes back into the seat. “—is comfy. Are you going to miss me?”
“Like a hole in the head, Sasha.”
I close my eyes, accustomed to the routine as I lay my hands on the table. As soon as we’ve landed, cold air floods the cabin, followed by booted footsteps, no doubt belonging to masked guards. They pull a hood over my head, zip-tie my hands, then I’m ready for the final leg of my journey.
“Bye-bye, Kane.” Sasha hums.
I don’t need my sight to know she’ll be waving at me. Her issues surpass her diet. Whenever she’s around the mirrored masks, she’ll become childlike, downplaying her intellect when she’s sharp, quick-witted, and violent.
There’s a smile on my face as I’m put in the back of a car without any guards beside me.
Everything I’ve done has made me unrecognizable to myself, but this is the closest I’ve felt to being me.
My obsession with Delilah is an oxymoron.
It’s the only thing keeping me sane, when being so attached to one person isn’t healthy.
My sanity is snatched away as Asher whispers, “She won’t recognize you now.” My smile drops. I clench my teeth. “She’s going to be disgusted by you when this is what she made you into.”
It’s not her fault. I know it isn’t. Placing the blame on her was easy, a weak attempt of absolving myself when she never had control of shit.
Other than me. Though I never wanted it any other way.
I needed her to be in control of me, so I don’t regret a single second she eclipsed every other aspect of my life.
Not when she would be in school, laughing with her friends.
Or when she’d be playing the piano for one of her parents’ parties while staring at me as her fingers danced over the keys.
Or the rare moments she needed silence while watching the stars and I’d lay my head on her stomach to watch her. She’s in everything. She is everything.
The hood and zip ties are another test I have to pass, but I’m close to Rowan trusting me. Then I’ll be able to get Delilah away from them.
I don’t know what the fuck I’ll be.
Dead but alive seems the most fitting answer.
I’m pushed back in my seat as we drive up the steep hill leading to Helene’s house. Without my sight, I’m able to hear more. My smile returns at the faint metal creaking of the gates open.
I’m closer to my home. Not a building, a person. My fucking person.
I remain still as we stop, waiting to be allowed to move. The guards don’t touch me any more than necessary to remove the hood or cut through the zip ties. As soon as the hood slides up my face, I’m met with darkness. So much that my reflection is barely visible in their masks.
Both guards step aside for me to get out as the sea roars, but I force myself to walk instead of running into the house. Helene isn’t in any of the rooms I pass as I go to our room. My heart pounds in my ears. Fuck, I’m nervous after being numb for so long.
My beautiful wife has the window open. The bed skirt has caught on the chastity belt in her attempt to hide it under the bed, but she’s so beautiful as the breeze slowly blows the soft drapes around the bedposts.
She must be exhausted, because she doesn’t move despite the wind whistling through the room.
Or she knows I’m here.
The sheets are tucked around her, one leg poking out. Her cheeks are flushed. Warm. She looks warm.
How long has it been since I’ve felt warmth? It feels like an eternity.
I need to feel her warm skin against mine as she breathes.
I slowly part the drape, my dick already hard at the thought of how warm she is as I pinch the edge of the sheet to expose her body. Fuck, I can already feel her body heat through it.
She’s only in a hoodie.
Waiting for me, koukla mou?
Without putting any weight on the bed, I kiss her ankle, slowly working my way up her leg.
“Mhmm,” she mumbles in her sleep as she shifts to lay on her stomach. The little fucking tease isn’t even conscious while she wields control over me.
I gently lay between her thighs and flutter my tongue through her slit. My dick is painfully hard, but I don’t move in fear of waking her—seeing her disgust. Like this, with her soft sleepy moans carrying through the breeze, she’s mine.
Her thighs twitch as I softly suck her inner thigh. I slow down so I don’t disturb her. When she stops moving, I grow bolder, pressing my fingers flat to the back of her thighs to open her up to me.
“Scare her,” Asher whispers.
I slowly shake my head, telling him to fuck off while I put my tongue to better use.
The first taste of her as I push inside her warm cunt is better than pain.
It’s the ultimate escape. A moan leaves me as my hands, my face, my tongue are surrounded by natural heat my dick craves.
Her thighs are so fucking warm as I massage my way up them to pull her ass cheeks apart.
The soft moans get faster as I circle my thumbs between her cheeks, getting closer to the ring of nerves she loves for me to play with.
My wife doesn’t get what she wants when I finally have my humanity in my hands. I softly tease her cunt with the tip of my tongue, marking a line from her entrance to her clit before I lightly pull her needy little clit between my teeth.
Delilah can play the piano. She’s an artist with that instrument. Mine is simpler—her. I know the exact places to stroke, tease, lick, bite to get the sounds of life from her beautiful lips. And I make sure I hear every note.
My chin is soaked in her, my lips wet from her cunt weeping for me, my dick angry at being neglected, but I can’t fucking take it anymore. I lift up onto my knees as I pull my zipper down. My dick is heavy in my hand as I curl my free hand over the headboard, guiding myself home.
My groan is muffled as I feel Delilah’s soaked cunt welcoming me.
She’s so fucking warm. Warm, breathing with soft little moans as she sinks into the sheets while I regain parts of myself.
She tenses, pushing her hips back when I’m only an inch inside of her.
Using the back of my fingers, I stroke her shiny hair as I softly whisper, “Shhh, it’s okay, koukla mou. ”
I press my lips to the back of her head, waiting for her to fall back into a deep sleep. No rot. There’s no decay clinging to her skin or putrid fluids on the pillow as she nuzzles into it. She smells clean, warm, comforting—exactly like home.