Chapter 16 #2
A bolt of excitement rips through me, my heart thrumming like a purr. “You’re jealous?” I question, swallowing hard, Adam’s apple jumping in my throat. “Of that?” I can’t help but laugh, the gun digging into my chin, “Fucking hell, Nells, that’s what you think of me?”
“I don’t know you,” she says, her statement so deadly serious it turns the air to shattered glass between us, leaving both of us inhaling sharp splinters.
My laughter dries up instantly, her facial expression hard, both of our hearts pounding so fiercely I hear them like knocks from the inside of my own coffin.
Anger is an unstoppable creature, pulsing uncontrollably through my veins. It drags through me too easily, too quickly, like a blade through silk.
The only person in this life and the next that knows me is her, and she throws that shit in my face.
I don’t give a fuck about the gun, my hands bunch either side of her nightdress, yanking the fabric apart and tearing it down the middle.
Penelope smacks me with the weapon, cracking the bottom of the magazine against my cheekbone, but I grab it, not giving a fuck if it goes off, her finger still on the trigger, and yank it from her hand, her knuckles cracking with the violence of it.
“Billy! Stop it!” she screams at me through gritted teeth, arching her back up off the floor, pushing her bared tits right up into my face, smacking at me with her clenched fists. “Billy!” her barred teeth gnashing together on my name, fury building behind her big eyes.
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl at her, launching the gun away, tossing it over the back of the other sofa, hearing it skid across the floor towards the study.
Lifting my hips, I pin her chest with my right hand, fingers splayed, keeping her flush with the floor, rug beneath her. I shunt my way down her body, sitting on her knees, her fists still hitting me everywhere she can reach.
Penelope’s still saying my name, screaming it at me like I’m going to listen to anything she has to say.
Like it would matter anyway.
Fingers finding her pussy, wet between her thighs, I force her lips apart, difficult to do between her clamped thighs but not impossible, opening her up for me, pulling her too wide, painfully revealing all of her to me, pink and red and already weeping.
My breath is cold as I blow on her clit, swollen and twitching, “You want me to stop, Little Lamb?” I ask her quietly, my temple resting against the jut of her hipbone as I turn to look up at her. Dragging out my words as we lock eyes, my lips ghosting over her skin, “Just tell me no.”
And then I’m burying my face in her sweet cunt, shifting my knees to her inner thighs, shoving her legs away, forcing them apart.
The heel of her foot kicking me in the base of the spine before flopping to the floor like a dead weight as I violently lash my tongue over the whole of her.
From back hole to clit, my tongue rolling over my own fingers as I flatten it, making sure I taste as much of her as possible.
Her body lifts from the floor beneath the pressure of my hand, like I’m performing an exorcism, a strangled noise in her throat as my teeth pinch her clit, gently rolling it between them.
I stretch her wider, a moan of pain and pleasure rumbling through her, a vibration I feel deep in my own chest cavity.
I suck on her clit, licking my way all over her, fast and then slow, up and then down, glossy pleasure leaking from her opening, I pull it into my mouth, hearing her moan, her head thrashing side to side as I suck her, force my tongue inside, curling the tip, feeling her clench around it as she comes, a suppressed scream echoing its way up her throat, escaping through bared teeth, like a prison trying to lock the sound inside.
Immediately, I’m moving down, licking over her arse, biting her cheeks, one then the other, leaving silky wet trails of mess all over her. I bite my way down to her thigh, tasting blood as my teeth tear open the fresh wound, spitting stitches from the deepest part as I go, tearing them out.
I hear my name, both a prayer and a curse, fall from her lips, and I lift my eyes up onto hers.
Her dark browns already looking back at me, her head lifted from the floor, chin tucked to her chest where I force her down, her hands over mine now, holding onto my fingers, one shackled around my wrist, both of them shaking.
When I look into her deep set eyes, a dark swirl of a too-long life already lived in too-little years, a lifetime of suffering, it feels like I’m kneeling before an altar I never should have found.
Pain flickers there like a votive flame, small and stubborn, holy in its suffering. But beneath it coils something raw and aching, the desire to be seen, to be chosen, to be bound to something that will not leave.
I will never leave you.
Her longing hums like a desperate prayer offered through cracked, bloodied lips, a plea for love disguised as devotion, as rebellion.
I feel it calling to me, a tether of heat and craving, and though I know this kind of love does not save, not her, and most definitely not me.
It sanctifies through ruin, and I find myself wanting to whisper the only vows I have left.
I see you.
I love you.
I protect you.
I keep you.
But instead of saying any of those things, I suck more of her blood into my mouth, making her moan in pain.
Flicking my tongue back over her cunt, I rise up onto my knees, slamming two thick fingers inside of her tight walls at the same time I spit into her waiting mouth, a holy offering of saliva, blood and cum.
Nellie blinks up at me, my fingers thrusting inside of her, her walls squeezing so hard it feels as though my bones might break, forcing their way through the resistance, but I don’t stop.
Our noses touching, her pout still parted, I dip down, licking into her waiting mouth, gathering some of the mixture back up, I drag it across her pretty face.
Painting her with it, my tongue the brush, her flawless pale skin the canvas.
I lap my tongue up her cheek, across her forehead, down over her eyes, before refinding her lips, our mouths closing together.
Her teeth savage as they bite down on the end of my tongue, a scar already there from where she bit me before, swallowed a piece of me down, and thinking of it, my dick pulsing with the memory, it makes me want that again.
That fire in her, the passion, the shyness that came after without apology.
“Bite me,” I order her, drawing up, hovering over her, my knees stationed inside her thighs, my fingers still inside of her, my other hand sliding from holding her chest, slapping her tit instead, before circling her throat, squeezing so hard it makes my wrist ache. “Bite me, Penelope.”
She lifts those gorgeous eyes back up onto mine, holding my gaze, and as I dip back down, I see the fury still burning in them.
Without hesitation her teeth sink straight into my tongue, biting down so hard I taste blood.
I revel in it, squeezing her neck, our mouths connected, I tear my fingers out of her, shoving down my jeans, slamming my cock inside of her just as she slows her bite, grazes her teeth over my tongue, pulling on it with a hard suck, before biting back into it like a rabid animal.
Blood fills my mouth, dripping down my chin, and I kiss her as hard as I fuck her. Filling her with my cock, her walls stretching, her pussy so tight it’s strangling, her legs squeezing together, me between them, her knees driving into my sides.
I kiss her and she kisses me back, and it’s a summons, two souls who’ve forgotten how to survive apart, coming together to beat death.
The air is charged, trembling around us as though the heavens themselves watch on with baited breath, wings plucked from angels banished to hell, stopping here on their way down to witness this unholy union.
“I’m gunna fill this cunt with so much cum you’ll taste it in the back of your throat,” I tell her with a smirk, my balls tightening.
“Fill you up,” I thrust into her harder, our hips smacking.
“Stuff you so full you’ll be feeling me inside of you for months.
Your belly round, my baby growing inside of you,” I grunt the last word as I come, spilling inside of her, her pussy clamping down around me, her body arching up from the floor.
Her fingers drive into my hair, nails clawing my scalp, digging in as she pulls me closer, locking our mouths back together as I keep pumping my hips.
Cock still hard inside of her, her legs wrapped around me, crossed at the ankles, keeping me locked in close, like she really wants me to, like she’s suddenly come around to the idea, realised it’s not so bad, that it’s not about anyone but us.
Only us.
“Our baby, Penelope,” my words kiss her ear, my lips brushing the shell. “Yours and mine.” I kiss her mouth, licking blood from her bottom lip, staring into her eyes.
She looks back at me, my hands planted on either side of her head, her wavy dark hair splayed around her like a halo, she breathes in slow, “Only ours?” she questions, her eyes pinched with caution as she asks.
My eyes flick between hers, a deep chocolate, inky black ringing them, seeping into the brown like clay in muddied waters, “Only ours,” I promise her, and she kisses me, soft, slow, so unlike just moments ago, like it’s a thank you.
A thank you for a promise I will never be able to keep.
No one is free, not me, not her, not our baby.
Under The Obsidian all vows end the same way, with blood on the altar and bodies in the ground.