35. Summer
There wasa cold sensation across my neck, the feel of metal. It was so sudden, a sharp contrast to the warm, gentle feeling of his skin, that I inhaled a surprised breath.
“Do you trust me, Summer? Trust me not to hurt you?”
I nodded, ”yes.”
“Say, ‘bunny punch’ if it’s too much, baby girl.”
“What?”
“Repeat it back to me.”
“Bunny punch.” I smiled at the silly phrase.
“This is trust,” he explained. “I entrust that you will communicate your needs, and you have confidence in me that I will stop.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “I understand.”
“Good,” the metal pressed across my cheek, tracing across my jaw. “I remember the first time you said my name,” he whispered. “With your cute, little voice. ‘Ookie’, you called me. I remember it feeling odd. Like this strange warmth in my chest. I felt fiercely protective. A mixture of happiness and wanting to rip open my chest and give you my heart.” The cool metal slid across my throat, the tip edging down my chest, between my breasts. It wasn’t sharp or cutting like a knife, but flat and slightly rounded. “Tell me, do you think I’m a sick man for wanting to fuck you? The innocent child of my youth.”
“No.”
“It’s sick, I know,” he continued as if I’d agreed.
“I’m not a child any more.”
“Barely.” The metal moved over my shoulders, then his fingers wrapped into the back of my hair. He fisted it tight, pain prickling as he pulled my head back to murmur against my lips, ”As soon as you could walk, you would follow me around the house, dragging your doll with you.” I felt his lips drag upwards in a smile, ”With your wild blonde curls, and your big, bright blue eyes. You could ask for anything and I would give it to you.” His lips dragged down to my jaw line, pressing tender kisses there. ”And nothing has changed. Anything you ask of me, I would give you, Summer. It”s very dangerous, the power you wield, having control over a man like me. I would kill anyone you asked me to. Do you think that”s fair? To have this kind of control in the world?”
I shook my head. ”No.”
“And yet, the Magnolia, they have this kind of power, my little bunny, and they use it to do anything they want. And so, I’m going to teach you how to use your own power. You might not be as wealthy or powerful as them, but you have something they want. And you can use that against them.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me, what do you know about tarot cards,” he asked me.
Tarot cards?
I”d completely forgotten. That seemed like a lifetime ago.
”Not much,” I admitted. “Only what I’ve seen on the Riverfront.” Where the tourists congregated.
”I don”t put much stock in the readings, with one exception.” The cold steel was against my arms now, running down the length of one, then the other, tracing over the tops of my hand and fingers. ”The cards may say something but only you can know what they mean. And you pulled the moon today.”
“What does that mean?”
“You tell me,” The metal had moved to the tops of my hands.
”I...I”m not sure.”
There was a sharp stinging on the tops of my hands. I exhaled a sharp breath in surprise, my mouth dropping open. And yet, a tingling sensation spread up my arms and straight to my core.
“What is that?” I asked him.
“You don’t know?”
I shook my head. ”No.”
“It’s your favorite toy.” He paused, waiting for me to guess, but when I didn’t, he continued, ”Let”s see if you can figure it out. In the meantime, I need you to answer me honestly. The picture on the cards is meaningless. What did it mean to you, as Mama Bondo began to talk about it.”
“I don’t know.”
“You do.” Another whack on my hands then up the insides of my arms.
Pain spread across my hands and inner arms, but heat blossomed through my chest and belly. The pain seized my thoughts, shoving all of them down except for one that blasted through me.
The one I”d pushed down for so long, now resurfaced.
But I... I couldn”t.
The thoughts, the words, on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn”t force them outward.
I shook my head, the back of my eyes burning, my fingers on my thighs trembling now. ”I.. I can”t.”
”You can”t?” he was soft now, his fingers soothing over where he”d hit me, the touch gentle. His lips pressed to my jawline, skittering up it with his kisses. Then he wrapped fingers around my neck, gently guiding me onto my back. ”I think you can, Summer. You just don”t want to. Now, spread your legs.”
Slap! Pain. Heat. Buzzing. Darkness filled with lust.
“The first thing you thought of when you saw the moon.” He smacked me again and again, edging up my thighs and towards the vee of my legs.
A haziness filled me—a dreamy sensation that washed over me. The cool breeze from the open window mixed with the salty aroma of the marsh. Blending with the scent of sage and sandalwood.
The edging all day long, Rook’s whispered confessions…I’m obsessed with you…guilt from Kuru’s reading.
“Oh, god, Rook.” With each smack, I rose higher and higher. I shifted my hips, needing more…needing the smack in… in just that right spot.
“Open yourself to me, Summer.” His voice, not a request, but a demand. “It’s the only way to take control.”
“I can’t…” I couldn”t.
I didn”t want to think about the moon.
“Admitting the truth releases its power over you.” Another smack. “Don’t you want that?”
My thighs were burning….
“Tell me!” He demanded, this smack harder than the rest.
“I—I think I killed my mom.” The admission hung in the air, like a weight against my chest. The words were so bitter, like acid on my tongue.
I”d never admitted that out loud before.
Rook stopped.
He didn”t say anything--didn”t act surprised or disappointed. He was silent, letting it hang in the air between us. Letting me feel the force of it— the power of saying it out loud.
Suddenly, my chest was tight and there was no air. I couldn’t breathe. I pulled in a choking breath and then another, and another, trying to gain control over my body.
“I killed my mom. I killed my mom. I killed her.”
Oh, god. I’d killed her.
“Good girl,” He cooed, surprising me, his fingers tracing softly up my thighs now. Soothing over the pain. “Now, start from the beginning. Tell me what happened that night.”
”The flame…” I started, feeling like I was in a hazy dream, “We”d crashed into the tree and my mom. She was so still. Her head was hanging over the steering wheel. And there was...there was glass shattered all over the place. Large, cutting glass. And her head. It was bleeding.”
“Good,” his lips followed his fingers, peppering soft kisses. Then his tongue laving my skin, laving, traveling higher, higher up my inner thighs. “Keep going,” he encouraged when I’d stuttered to a stop.
“I just sat there,” I breathed, trying to concentrate through my hazy lust. “Watched the flame move across the hood. It lit the tree on fire. And I…I,” guilt slammed into me the same time his tongue met my clit. Wetness gushed, mixed with my shame. I was going to come in a puddle of remorse.
“The fire,” he murmured against me.
“I watched it. It was….mesmerizing. The orange against the night sky. And the stars…Oh God, Rook!”
A finger slid up inside me, the wet sound of my slick combined with the breeze across my naked body. My nipples pebbled. My chest heaved. It was all too much. My misery and self-loathing brewing to the surface like a thunderstorm.
“Keep going,” he demanded, his finger slowly moving in and out, his thumb on my clit.
”And suddenly, I was across the street. I don”t know how. The gravel—it hurt my feet. I must”ve gotten out and walked across the road. Because I was suddenly there, watching the car burn. And then she….Oh God, Rook, she started screaming. She was alive.”
I let out an anguished moan, everything inside me burning and churning. Tears were sliding down my face, emotions that always seemed to be clogged up inside, now bleeding through me. I bit on my lip, trying to stifle the tears.
“Mmmm,” Rook soothed, pulling me up and into his arms, holding me. Rocking me, kissing me softly.
”I could”ve pulled her from the car. But because I didn”t, she burned alive.”
The confession fell from my lips like an anvil and I waited.
Waited for the judgement.
For Rook to tell me to get dressed and to leave his house and never return.
He must”ve known my mother. Loved her.
Did he hate me for not saving her?
”Is that what you believe?”
His words hit me right in the chest. They were spoken, not with judgement, but with softness.
”Yes.” My words were thick on my tongue.
“After everything you know, everything that’s happened to you, you think that it”s your fault that your mom died?”
“Yes, because it”s true.”
“Is that so?” He sounded upset. “I guess my little bunny still has something to learn.”
Then I was suddenly on my back again, and my arms were stretching across the bed. Another silk tie, one for each wrist. Tied to the bed post.
“Remember, bunny punch,” he reminded me, then suddenly my legs were spread out.
Another sharp pain that reverberated through me. Harsher now. Like he was angry.
Over and over. My hips. Inner thighs.
Stinging pain.
It was almost too much. Almost.
Because with the pain, an intense lust filled me. I squeezed my eyes, hips rocking, whimpering for more.
”Tell me, Summer, what really happened that night. Start at the beginning.” Smack, smack.
”We went to a ballroom dance. I was all dressed up—it was the first time I”d been allowed to go.”
“Keep going.”
”And we got in an accident, on the way home.”
”What else happened that night? Before you went home?” Smack.
I tried to focus, to remember. Even though I was floating on air, my mind hazy.
”Your mom, did she speak to anyone? Does anyone stand out?”
I remembered. All the glitzy dresses, lavish jewelry. So many serious-looking men. It wasn”t as fun as I”d thought it would be. But then, my mom, she asked the band to play my favorite song. She took me to the middle of the floor and we danced.
I dug deeper, Rook”s harsh smacking grounding me. Keeping me in the moment. Jarring the memories loose.
There were so many people in masks, staring at us while we danced. But there was one man. He”d been the only one not wearing a mask. I jolted. ”Saul,” I breathed out. ”He was there. And he… my mom and him got in an argument. And she left, she was mad.”
“Keep going,” he encouraged, his fingers sluicing up inside me. Then out. “Such a tight cunt,” he murmured, almost to himself, “but you can handle it. Keep going Summer.”
Something cold entered me. It made me stutter to a stop.
“What happened next.”
“I to—ok off my shoes. Fell as—leep against her.” I was hanging onto the edge, losing all control.
The metal was moving in and out of my cunt. Moving slow at first, then faster. Then it was gone, now the cold slice of it against my thighs.
“And I…” I tried to think. “I…”
There was a harsh smack, a burning that rushed up into my cunt. Soothed by the coldness, up inside me again. Again and again, over and over as I tried to think, creating a pressure that was breaking me open.
I widened my legs, needing more and more.
“God please, Rook. I need more.” My hips canted.
“And the crash woke you?” He fucked me now. Fucked me with that thing. His fingers on my clit.
God, I needed.
“Please, Rook! Let me come.”
“Not yet, baby. Tell me more, remember everything.”
My hips buckled. I struggled against my bindings. Gushing down my thighs. What the fuck was that thing? It was driving me insane.
“God, Rook!”
“Keep going! You crashed.”
“Yes.” I felt wild. Like a savage. The beast inside me emerging for the first time. “And then, I’m stuck.”
“Why are you stuck?” he shouted.
Frenzied. I bucked up against him. He yanked the metal out. Then it came down, smacking me right there.
I lost it, screaming, “Because Saul is holding me!”
“Yes!”
SLAM! With the last smack, I detonated. Whole body shuddering. Fingernails digging into my palms. Spine bowed. Shattering with my orgasm as my world fell apart.
Muted light flooded my vision as Rook ripped silk from my eyes.
I could suddenly see everything. My chest heaving. The memory washing over me.
”Saul! He was there. He carried me out of the car. Oh my god!” The gravel. It hurt my feet when he put me down. I was still barefoot. ”Saul was there. He”s the one...” My heart was pumping so hard, it might burst from my chest. Tears poured down my cheeks. ”He”s the one who stopped me. He held me against my will. I was screaming and crying. Fighting him. Trying to get to her.”
“Yes baby, that’s it,” he murmured, his face hovering over mine. He grabbed my cheeks, forcing my eyes on him. “Saul killed her, plain and simple. You understand, baby girl?”
“Ye-es.” I still wasn’t sure.
He didn’t believe me. His expression darkened, his fingers clenching into my cheeks. “From this moment on, there will be no talk of it being your fault that Melanie is dead. People like him, Saul, feel no guilt—none—but he wants you to bathe in it. He uses your soft heart to manipulate and control you.” He breathed heavily, his eyes filled with passion and possession and anger. “But you’re not a victim. No more of that shit. You’re stronger and more savage than he is. Because you have someone worth fighting for—the people you love. Use that to your advantage. Let it fuel you. Take your life in your hands and destroy anything that gets in your way. You understand me, Summer?”
I nodded, eyes wide, lips parted, shaken by his words.
“Good,” he nodded. Scooting down, he gripped my hips and yanked. His mouth on my pussy. Lapping at my juices.
Laving over the pain, drawing out the orgasm. My stomach clenched, my breath hitched, ecstasy shooting through my legs, and arms, out my fingers and toes.
I was in the sky, the stars twinkling around me, floating and light.
He kissed and suckled until my heart slowed, my breathing calmed, then he kissed softly up my belly and to my mouth, kissing me slowly, languidly as he untied me.
Then I was in his arms, him cradling me, soothing me with his kisses, his whispered words, “Such a good, good girl. Now you know the truth.”
I could only lean against him, drained of all emotion. Feeling lightheaded and dizzy.
“Hold still,” he whispered, then disappeared. In a few minutes he’d undressed, except for a pair of black sweatpants, and handed me a bottle of fresh orange juice. “Drink this. All of it.”
I sat up, my world spinning, and drank, while he soothed a cool cream over my thighs and wrists. Taking care of me so gently.
“Lie down on your stomach,” he said, and began to massage me with an oil. He worked out the kinks in my neck, shoulders, and back. Then his fingers moved over my skin, caressing softly, until I felt like jelly. My eyes blinked sleepily as he peppered soft kisses up my back to my neck. And then he was massaging my head, kissing over my ear tenderly, at my temples.
“Rook?” I turned my head towards him.
“Mmm?”
“Did you just fuck me with a ruler?”
“Fuck,” he cursed, grinning with a mischievousness look in his eyes. He shook his head. “I couldn’t get that image out of my mind—when you told me about your teacher. I had to.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. “And you decided to fuck me with it?!”
His grin grew bigger.
“Goddamn!”
“Did you like it?” He asked, his voice vulnerable. He pressed his lips to my head, kissing it softly. “Did I hurt you?” He pulled me into his arms, holding me close.
“God no,” I said. “That was so hot.” I’d had no idea…what the hell…
“Come here,” he said, bundling the both of us together, wrapping us up in his feathered comforter. I was suddenly exhausted.
He held me close, my head against his warm chest. “I’m so proud of you, Summer.”
I smiled. Feeling so soft and warm and taken care of.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my eyelids drooping. “For everything.” It was so warm, so cozy, so…
Then a thought that made my eyes shoot open. “You.”
“What?”
“It was you. At the funeral. I mean, afterwards. Out in the swamps. With Harrison and Blake.”
He stared at me, not answering. But I didn’t need the answer—I knew it was true.
“You! It was you.”
The wolf who’d saved me.
And me, the little bunny, ensnared in his wonderful world.