2. Ostara
Ostara
C aelus’ fingers suddenly drive into the sloppy state of my cunt like he’s trying to fight his way inside of me, fist my soul and tear it out between my legs. My leggings are torn, gaping at the centre seams, allowing the cool air to rush across my oversensitive flesh.
The flinch can’t be controlled, nor can the blush that flits to my cheeks, or the wanton cry that chokes its way up my throat like the jagged claws of a demon trying to escape my oesophagus.
Stars shoot across my vision beneath the tight clench of my eyelids as my head thuds back against the large tree trunk.
“That’s it, you murderous little ghoul, strangle my fingers,” Cal huffs with an undertone of mockery, like we’re playing a game he thinks he’s just won.
But, despite the pleasure heating my lower belly, the cramp in my core muscles tightening and ricocheting all the way down to my bones, I’m having a mild panic. I think of the poison residue on my mouth, now on his, the empty vial of antidote squashed between my breasts.
I imagine the praise I’d receive, the third son to the Carnells, dead at my hands.
They all think I’m disposable. The Stones.
My family. Because of the way my brain is wired.
It’s why I was locked away for so long before being allowed out of the prison they call a home.
They couldn’t trust me to carry out my duties and behave like a normal person.
I had to earn my freedom .
I’m still earning my freedom.
Cal’s a teacher at the academy, the ballet master, fourteen years my senior, and everything I’m supposed to hate, so what does it matter if I kill him?
It’d work in my favour, earn me some points with my father.
Perhaps.
But now, right now, I think I might be about to lose my virginity to one of the people they hate the most, that I should hate the most, and even as I think of killing him, I don’t think I really could.
Caelus Carnell is the only person I have ever met that has never intentionally tried to hurt me.
He’s the only person I ever give the time of day to.
Speak to. Our passing pleasantries, these lingering private moments where it’s just the two of us in the dark, the quiet, are sometimes the only human interaction I get for weeks at a time.
My teachers and peers, when I bother to attend any of my classes, don’t even seem to see me.
I am nothing more than a ghost flitting through the halls.
A shiver runs up my spine as Caelus brings his drenched digits up into the scant space between us, his hand dangerously close to his mouth and mine.
I can smell the slick of my arousal mixing with his skin, his dark, masculine scent intoxicating with the combined sharpness of me.
Laying those dangerous, freckled, hazel eyes on mine, he sucks his fingers between his lips and wraps his tongue around them.
His cheeks hollow, his pale pink lips tight, suctioned up to the knuckle, he devours my flavour off of his skin, groaning as he does.
I should stop this now, launching myself off of a jagged cliff’s edge, but when Cal’s mouth comes back to mine, twining his tongue over my own, I forget myself.
How to think.
How to breathe.
Instead, all I can do is feel as the head of his weeping cock presses against my wet cunt, one of his hand’s back on my fabric covered arse.
The other curled beneath my left thigh, fingers splayed, thumb digging into the soft skin of my inner thigh, holding me open, my legs still wrapped around his waist.
“Ozzie,” he breathes the name over my mouth, he’s the only person to call me that, as though it’s just between us, like we’re more than meagre familiars. His lips pluck mine like delicate fingertips over harp strings, “Tell me you want this.”
He holds my gaze with the demand, his stare boring into me, waiting as his cock weeps fluid that sticks to the wet flesh of my pussy. I can hardly breathe as he looks at me, the tips of our noses brushing.
“I hate you,” I whisper instead, something I’m supposed to feel, perhaps saying it aloud, making sure he hears, it’ll make it real.
It’ll make this moment real.
Because, sometimes, these moments are not.
I’m not always here, even when I am, and to find my way back I have to bleed.
“I hate you too,” he breathes and then slams his cock inside of me.
Caelus pauses for just a second as he feels it, and then he forces himself through that tiny piece of resistance set high inside of me and fucks me like a wild beast.
He’s savage and raw and I clench around him like I’m trying to draw him in deeper and simultaneously force him out. He grunts as my forehead drops to his in a crash, our skulls knocking together, my hands clawing at his shoulder blades, the curves of bone sawing into the soft palms of my hands.
Caelus pounds into me ruthlessly, his pelvis grinding into my clit shooting little sparks of pleasure directly into the front of my skull. His hands simultaneously hold me up whilst tearing me apart, he fucks me just like he said. With hate. And I realise this is what I need.
This feeling.
Caelus’ hate for me is so intense it’s the first real thing I think I’ve ever felt.
It’s heady, this sudden burst of intense emotion.
“Harder,” I demand in a breathless whisper as my bottom lip trembles, a groan filling my throat that I try to fight, the taste as forbidden on my tongue as Caelus’ flavour. “Make me hurt,” so I can feel. “I hate you,” I tell him again, my voice wobbly, trying to block out everything but this.
“I’m going to make you fucking bleed,” he hisses into my ear before his teeth snap down on my earlobe and sink into the flesh.
His breath is hot down my neck, but the eruption of lava heat licking my core where his thick cock strokes a fire inside of me has me unable to focus on his face.
Even as my eyes are wide open on his, my head spinning with ecstasy, I manage to wriggle a hand up between our connected bodies, my other clawing into the muscles of his back, and slap him across the face so hard it makes even my teeth rattle as his head snaps to the side.
Still, his thrusts never falter, his pale cheek burning bright, the shape of my hand quickly reddening his face. Slowly, his head turns back to me, his eyes on mine even before he’s fully facing me again.
“You’re finally playing the game, Ostara?” he asks with a slow stretching smirk, his voice like a bitter slap to my own face.
He circles his hips, grinding into me before he draws himself almost all the way and drops his gaze between us.
The sharp suction of air he inhales startles me, making me clench up around his tip even tighter, making him grunt, but he’s not looking up at me as he stills completely. That has me dropping my gaze too, his silence.
Moonlight breaks through the canopy of branches overhead just enough that we’re both able to see the veiny length of his thick cock streaked with red.
He’s so still for a moment, it reminds me of looking in a mirror, when I’m trying to come back to myself, grasp hold of reality, murder my vacant stare. And I wonder how to bring him back.
To this moment.
To me.
It feels frighteningly important that he’s as present in this as I am.
This indiscretion that can only end one way.
Death.
Blood is the only thing that brings me back when I forget myself, but I have no blade, no dagger, no knife.
Reaching down between us, my other hand curling in the roots of his dark chocolate coloured hair, I swipe two fingers down the long length of his cock, tip still nestled inside of me, gathering the evidence of our hedonistic joining, and smear the bloody digits over his mouth.
Sharply, he sucks in air again, his gaze snapping up to meet mine as I push my fingers between his teeth, sliding them to the very back of his tongue, until his throat clenches around the tips of them with a gag.
Cal’s fingers clamp down on my wrist, and I think he’s going to shove me away, drop me and run for the hills.
Instead, he holds me to him, sucking on the taste of us, of my virginity, my need.
His teeth bite down on my knuckles at the same time he plunges his way back inside me.
Spikes of pleasure crash through me and I cry out, my head thudding back once more as Cal picks up the pace, spits out my fingers, and thumbs my clit.
My grip tightens in his hair, nails clawing into his scalp, my other hand curling around the side of his neck, my thumb pressing too hard against his Adam’s apple.
“You took my kill,” Caelus grits out, his voice hoarse where I apply more pressure to his throat. “Now you’re paying for it,” he grunts, my back scraping and snagging on the rough bark of the tree. “How’s that feel, Oz? Knowing you gave up your virginity to your enemy in exchange for an easy kill?”
He stares at me, his cock like a steel rod of fire pounding into me.
Hazel eyes freckled with deep, dark green smirk up at me as he pinches my clit, and I detonate around his still thrusting cock.
A cry rips up my throat, my grip on his hair tearing him closer until his lips are wrapped around my pulse point and he’s groaning against my skin, the vibration rocking through my skeleton and rotting in my marrow.
My cunt clenches around him, little spasms of pleasure rippling up from the base of my spine and settling in the crown of my head, forcing stars to shoot across my eyes, distorting my view of his perfect face with spots of black.
He’s panting when his bite leaves my throat, red staining his perfect teeth as he smiles up at me.
“How was that, Ostara?”
His mouth tips up on one side, his head beginning to cant, so I release my hold on his hair, let my legs drop down from his back, and lift myself up and off of his cock.
When he releases his hold on me, letting my feet slowly sink to the ground, I reply, “Fine,” and scoop down to grab my sweatshirt, tugging it over my head.
Caelus doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, and I keep my eyes down as I flick my blonde hair out of the collar.
“ Fine? ” he snarls at my back as I turn away from him, my head lifting just enough that I can flick my eyes to the top of their lids and see the moon breaking through the trees once more.
“You need to come with me for the antidote,” I tell him quietly over my shoulder without looking back, even if it’s only residual, it could be enough to kill him slowly. “Unless you really do want to die.”
He is silent as I begin to walk away, his warm cum seeping out of me and wetting the inside of my thighs, my leggings torn, underwear shredded.
Heart clattering like an uncoordinated brass band inside my chest, I fight off the cold feeling cloaking me once again.
Caelus’ warmth disappears, slipping off of my skin like water as I continue stepping further away.
It makes something inside of me hurt, more than the ache between my thighs, the muscle cramp in my belly.
I ignore it all, even as it makes me wonder, as I wander through the firs and the pines, about death, if, like me, that’s exactly what he wants.