Chapter 19 #2
My mouth attacks hers with violence, my tongue plunging its way through her teeth, curling desperately around her own.
She doesn’t respond, just lets me kiss her, it goes on for long seconds before she finally reciprocates.
It feeds me when she kisses me back, my anger, my rage, my want, my every single thought and feeling in this moment is fuelled by her.
Her mouth meets mine like a vow, surrender, a ritual carved so bone deep neither one of us could ever cut it out. She tastes like rain and earth and love, and it makes me sick, knowing I feel the same. A weakness, to both her and I, a way for us to hurt.
“Fuck you, Penelope,” I say again, biting hard into the bone of her jaw, making her squirm as I lock my jaw, clamp down hard enough to leave my mark, pepper her in blue tooth-shaped bruises. “Fuck you.”
She slaps me hard across the face, driving her nails into my cheek, clawing my face as I bite my way down her throat, lapping over the indents with the flat of my tongue, sucking her flesh between my teeth.
I track my way along her collarbone, more biting, more sucking, and I can’t stop.
Voices in my head demanding I bite harder, chomp out pieces of her flesh and present them to her chewed up on my tongue.
Her betrayal sits in me like the brand in my chest, still smoking, still burning, something else that is all for her.
But beneath it all, there’s still love. A torture so great it can’t be described, only endured, she tore open my chest cavity twelve long years ago and inscribed her name on my heart, let it bleed, let it beat just enough to keep me alive without her.
Because a love like ours, love this twisted and broken and fucked up; it festers, it plots, it prays.
It taught me how to kneel.
She taught me how to kneel.
And now I want to see her do the same.
I force down my jeans, my boxers, the heavy wet fabric suctioned to my skin, but I manage to shove it to my knees. I fist my cock, already hard, already weeping, already desperate to fill her up. And as I heft her up, my hands beneath her thighs, her back in the mud, I force my way inside her.
Her walls clamp down around me so hard, trying to push me out, it only makes me fuck into her harder.
It’s brutal the way she screams at me through gritted teeth, slapping my face harder and harder each time I thrust up into her, but I don’t stop, ignoring the protests from her mouth, her wet cunt telling me something different.
“I fucking hate you, Billy Blackwell,” she screams through gritted teeth, her words in my mouth, her tongue quickly following.
She kisses me, slapping my face as our tongues fuck each other’s mouths, knees cutting into my ribs as she tightens her legs around my waist. Penelope drives her sharp nails into my bare shoulders after she strips my hoodie and T-shirt off, dumping it in the puddle of mud at our feet.
“I know you love me, Little Lamb,” I laugh huskily in her ear, biting down on the lobe so hard I taste blood.
Her fists hammer every inch of me she can reach as I work my way down her with my teeth, licking over our brand as I go, until I reach her arm, the tip of my tongue traces over it. The little tube beneath her skin.
“Billy, don’t,” she warns, a threat in it, a promise, panic.
But I bite into her anyway.
Tearing my teeth into her arm like little blunt blades, dull razors biting around it until I feel her flesh pop like an aged champagne cork.
I chew it as she screams, the little piece of tissue and skin, swallowing it down as I separate it from the little device that’s been giving me so many problems.
She’s gasping, heaving for breath when I finally look at her, still inside of her, my cock only growing harder and harder with the need to come.
Knowing there’s a real chance at breeding her now as I roll the tube around on my tongue.
I smile, showing it to her, pinched between my front teeth before spitting it out into the grave we find ourselves in.
She swallows, raindrops and tears running down her face, hair clinging to her skin. Blood running down her arm, my teeth marks scoring every part of her.
All broken and bruised, I should hate myself for thinking it’s beautiful.
There’s blood on her lip, a tremor in her hands, the light in her eyes guttering like the last breath of a candle, and still, I can’t look away.
I should see self-pity, or grief, or rage, but all I see is the truth of her stripped bare, the divinity that lives in her undoing.
Every fracture feels sacred; every breath she takes feels borrowed from something holier.
I tell myself it’s wrong, that this isn’t love but something crueller, something twisted by devotion, yet the sight of her like this steals the air from my lungs. She’s falling apart, and I’m standing here, praying she never stops.
“Billy!” she screams at me finally, rage rocking through her with a tremor so hard I feel it humming down the length of my cock, but it’s as though suddenly there’s a reflection of my own desires swimming in her big eyes, the endless brown ringed in coal black as she stares up at me.
Something far more dangerous than love.
“Nellie,” I grin back mockingly, drawing my cock all the way out of her, resting the tip on her clit. Looking down between us, the rain washing away the slick glossing my erect cock, “I’m really going to fuck you now,” I tell her with a sharp half-smile, sinister and greedy.
She laughs, the vibration of it thrumming through me like a second heartbeat, “Yeah?” she mocks, a raised eyebrow on her head, a snarl on that perfectly blush mouth, blood smeared at the corner of her lip.
“Yeah,” I tell her solemnly, using one hand to hold her up, the other working over my cock, “I’m going to fuck my baby into you whether you like it or not.”
Then I’m slamming my way back inside.
I fuck her hard and fast, her nails beneath my skin, my shoulders on fire.
My hips piston faster and faster, my cock swelling, my balls tightening, I sink my teeth into her lower lip as I come.
Blood on my tongue, her scent in my nose.
I keep pumping, thrusting upwards, keeping myself deep as I finish inside of her, filling her with my cum.
Neither one of us says anything for a moment, the rain so heavy it attacks our flesh like little icy bullets, I just keep hold of her, breathing her in, because even with the strong scent of mud in the air, I can smell her, earth and roses, and a little bit of me.
I want to kiss her, but I don’t, looking away from her to stop myself.
I’m still furious at her, despite all of the other ways I feel about her.
I wish I could hate her. I wish I could chop her up and leave her out here to rot.
But even now, even after this, after everything, I know I’ll forgive her.
It feels as though I already have. But there’s more in this than just that, I’ve fucked up too.
I’m eyeing the axe as I lower her feet to the floor, her gaze following mine, and before she can protest, before she can stop me, say anything, I’m spreading her wet naked body down in the middle of the grave, hacked up body parts strewn throughout the mud.
She’s staring up at me as I step over her, only the oil lantern still glowing above us just enough to see.
Those big brown eyes black in the dark, tracking me as I reach for the long smooth wood of the long handled axe.
No, that’s what she tells me with her eyes when I kick her feet apart, lay the axe down at her side, but she doesn’t vocalise it, doesn’t try and stop me as I lower myself down to my knees, between her legs, and spit on her cunt.
Watch as it runs down the length of her, prepping her further as my bloody saliva mixes with her arousal, my cum seeping out of her swollen pussy.
I push my fingers inside her hard, forcing my way through the tightening resistance, holding my breath as I curl my fingers, feeling just how full she is of me, pushing it in deeper.
“Fuck, Nells,” I hiss through barred teeth, staring down between us, watching as her lithe little body swallow my two digits all the way up to the knuckle.
My thumb glides over her clit, the swollen bud twitching and pulsing as I apply pressure, circling it firmly with the pad of my thumb as I fuck her harder with my fingers.
“Billy,” she cries out, her hands clawing at my forearm as I plant my free hand on her chest, keep fucking her with my fingers.
Feeling her tighten more and more, her legs bending, knees drawing up, digging into my sides as her eyes squeeze shut, her head slams back.
Her walls clamp around my fingers so hard I can barely continue to draw them in and out, but I force them deep, curling them inside of her, rubbing the tips across her front wall at the same time I rub her clit harder.
And just as she’s about to come, her entire body trembling like there’s a demon inside of her resisting exorcism, I stop.
Her eyes fly open, her legs tightening around me, her fingers cutting deeper into the skin of my arm as I slide it downwards from her sternum, letting the splay of my hand rove down her belly, over her mound, before leaving her completely.
“Don’t worry,” I lean over her, smiling down, “I’m not going to leave you wanting, Nellie,” I whisper over her parted pout, inhaling her scent into my lungs as I withdraw my fingers, “so breathe.”
And then I’m pushing the end of the axe handle inside of her cunt, stretching her as I force the worn smooth wood deeper. The shape of it just right to hit the spot she craves.
“You’re beautiful, Nells,” I tell her, watching in awe as her cunt keeps stretching around the axe handle, taking more and more of its length. “Fuck, Little Lamb.”
My other hand is on her inner thigh, pushing her leg wider, holding her open, pressure on her so intense it feels like the bones will snap, and for a moment, I want to feel it, the crack beneath my hand, see the pain in her eyes, feel tears upon her cheek like they’re my own.
But I stop myself from going too far, from wanting to hurt her in that way.
Because I know, she’d let me do it, if she thought it was enough repentance.
Nellie doesn’t complain, she doesn’t try to stop me, only staring up at me with glassy eyes and parted lips as I keep working the axe in and out of her.
Chest heaving, arms spread out at her sides like a wingless angel, fingertips buried deep in the mud, her hands like claws as she tenses, holding herself down.
And as I slowly start to move the wooden length inside of her, angling it just so, my cock begins to harden once more, still exposed, still too close, still wet with her, the tip of it dangerously close to the blade of the axe as I work the end of the handle in and out of her, but I don’t stop and then she’s coming apart.
“Billy, Billy, Billy.” A chant, a prayer, worship, all of it is in that word.
My fucking name.
It hits me like lightning, the air splits open inside me, every thought burned white and trembling.
For a moment, I’m sure she can see it, the way the world tilts, the way my chest feels scorched from the inside out.
I can taste metal, feel the hum of it in my bones, hearing her say my name like that ruins me all over again.
It shouldn’t, not after what she’s done, but there’s something in the way it leaves her mouth that makes every drop of fury bleed out of me like light from a dying star.
Because no one’s ever said it like she does.
Like it means something.
Like it belongs to her.
Like I belong to her.
“That’s it, Little Lamb, keep coming for me,” I order her, words breathy, worship reflecting back to her in my tone. “Fuck, so beautiful.”
Her whole body tightens like a bow string, her eyes are on mine, deep wide orbs as she lets go, coming around a weapon that, at least for me, holds significance to us.
It feels fitting, something coming full circle.
Our love is not gentle. It’s an invocation whispered through trembling lips in shadowed corners of forbidden places.
To love her is to stand too close to the flame, feeling my skin crisp and burn and peel, and stepping closer anyway.
She's destruction wrapped in reverence; the sin I endlessly return to as though salvation were ever an option. Every touch feels like trespass, every breath between us a confession we’ll never atone for.
“I had twenty-four hours to claim you, or they were going to kill you,” I tell her straight, unfeeling, emotionless, the axe thrown away from us, my body covering hers, our noses touching.
“Milus, he finally realised why I’d been such a disobedient shit all those years we were apart.
” She’s crying now, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks, they’re so easily identifiable from the raindrops rolling down her face in exactly the same way, because hers are full of a pain I can taste as my tongue laps upwards of her cheeks, in an attempt to consume it for her.
The suffering.
Realisation.
“I was keeping you safe, away from me, away from here,” I drop my forehead to hers, her eyes shut, mine on her closed lids even though my vision is blurred being so close. “Because I love you, Penelope.”
And they wanted you here, but I don’t know why.
You were a player in their game long before your name was ever whispered into my ear.
There are too many dots missing for me to connect them.
“I love you more than any soul has ever loved another.”