Coraline
When I opened the door from Gavin’s bedroom, I spotted a dark figure walking toward the basement.
I can’t tell if it’s a woman or a man underneath the flickering lights, but it’s massive, and its aura isn’t welcoming.
I know it’s not because my heart is pounding to uncontrollable limits, and a sensation of unease washes over me.
Dread, fear, and anxiety possess me as I watch it in slow motion.
This time, it’s demon-like and not a ghost or spirit.
It’s a dark, black, blurry, massive silhouette.
I tread lightly, my pulse rocketing at the base of my throat as I reach for a knife in the kitchen.
I pull it from the wooden holder on the counter and grip the handle so tightly it burns my palms.
I knew this place was haunted, but Gavin is in denial about it. Every time I bring it up, he changes the subject and avoids giving me a clear answer. He’s avoiding it. I know I’m seeing things, and it won’t stop.
Maybe I should talk to it?
“What are you? Who are you?” I cling to the walls as I get closer to it.
I can’t believe I’m talking to it. Whatever the thing is, it doesn’t respond but continues to float and disappear deeper into the basement staircase.
It all comes back to the basement again!
I halt and glance in the direction of Gavin’s bedroom, as my hand shakes against the knife handle.
Rubbing my temples, conflicted, I stand in the living room shaking.
In every horror movie, I yell at the main character to not be a dumb ass. “Don’t follow the noise or investigate a strange encounter”. Yet, now that I’m in that position, I can’t help it. If it doesn’t have a beating heart, it can’t physically hurt me, right?
Screw it.
All logic gets thrown out the window, and my curiosity gets the best of me.
I’m in the basement, still clinging to the kitchen knife tightly.
The ceiling light continues to flicker, struggling to stay on.
It’s colder down here. The hairs on my arms and back raise as I stand there, searching for the black floating orb.
I survey every corner, but there’s nothing but boxes, aged children’s furniture, and spider webs.
The same drawer where I found the initial newspaper on The Sleepy Coldwater Serial Killer is closed all the way this time. Setting the knife down on a box, I slide it open and find more. Biting my lip, I glance behind me, knowing deep down that what I’m doing is wrong, but I’m nosey.
I pull out the first newspaper I see. It’s folded in half, wrinkly, stale, and torn. The paper is yellow with faded black ink. The headline reads:
The Sleepy Coldwater Copycat Suspect Has Been Arrested
There’s a picture covered in sawdust and webs, blurring the alleged suspect’s portrait. I glance over at the date: January 11, 2025. Dated one year ago.
A door from inside the basement slams. There’s another room down here. It’s small, with large, harsh dents in the base of the plain white door.
“Sweetheart?” Gavin calls from the basement staircase. His inquisitive tone is laced with concern.
I throw the newspaper back into the drawer, not bothering to fold it like it was. Heart racing, I hide the knife among the papers and zip around, wearing a mask of innocence and curiosity.
“Coraline?” He descends further down the staircase, this time without socks or shoes.
Such a small detail that he doesn’t do often.
I didn’t notice it before. He’s still dressed in his pajamas with a plain white shirt hugging his muscular build, and his gold cross chain around his neck.
“What are you doing down here?” He’s holding back his frustration.
I can tell by the way his body pulls taut and his dark brows continue to gravitate toward one another as he pins his worried gaze on me.
“I heard the door slamming again. And…”
He reaches for my hand, linking his fingers with mine. He gently pulls me in front of him so I can lead the way. He follows close behind as I head up the stairs, still holding onto my hand.
“And I saw something floating down into the basement,” I admit, shaking my head in shame. I know I sound like a broken record on repeat with the ghosts, but fuck. What else am I supposed to say?
As soon as we get into the living room, he shuts the door to the basement behind us.
“And? What did this floating thing look like?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest.
“You know what. It’s nothing.” I shake my head. “I-it was nothing.” I sigh in defeat. “I think I’m going crazy, what do they call it again?” I giggle half-heartedly. “Cabin fever?” I suggest. I don’t want to ruin the way our relationship is blooming with talk of ghosts or murder.
He stares at me, raking my face with his mesmerizing blue orbs and serious expression. His thumb brushes my bottom lip, left and right, before it settles in the middle.
“You’re always so damn pretty,” he murmurs.
My heart skips a beat as the tune in his eyes takes a turn to desire.
“In the mornings, noon, and night…” his cool, sultry breath on my neck sends shivers down my spine.
His deep yearning voice is laced with pure adoration. “So damn pretty without trying.”
Hot lava strikes my chest and between my thighs, stirring up a lustful craving only he can satisfy. He’s so sweet to me.
“I think you’re the first real gentleman I’ve met. I like it.”
Before I can blink or think, I’m being turned around and pushed up against the brick wall of the living room.
“You think you want a gentleman, but the way you act when I’m inside you tells me you crave a monster too,” he whispers seductively, his breath feathering the shell of my ear.
I nod, peering over my shoulder, cheeks burning.
“Hold onto the fireplace.”
My pants and underwear are being yanked down. My ass bounces when he slaps me. I let out a low mewl as he undresses me. Before I can turn around, his hard dick is slowly pushing into me.
I moan, shutting my eyes as he stretches me.
“Oh, fuck, Gavin!”
I hold onto the brick wall as he takes me from behind.
Each thrust draws me ever closer to the edge.
Fuck, he always feels too good. He stretches me in all the best ways, hitting my cervix until my thighs are trembling.
His grunts mix in with my moans perfectly as he holds onto me like he’s trying to engrave himself into my skin.
A connection so powerful, I feel like I can’t breathe.
Who knew being stranded during a snowstorm would end up this way? Sharing a connection with a beautiful man with a tortured past.
I’m leaving, though. He knows I have to go, and I think that’s why he’s not wasting one second where we can’t lose ourselves in our dark chemistry. I try to push away the responsibility to catch up with Maya and my family because he makes me want to stay up in the mountains with him longer.
Right now is different.
We’re impatient, feral, and greedy.
And I love it.
Our skin slaps, the fire crackles, and my moans are loud. I scream every time he thrusts. He’s hurting me today. His fingers dig into my skin, marking me with more bruises.
“Gavin…it hurts,” I cry out, but he doesn’t stop.
I don’t want him to. I love the pain.
“Make it hurt more. Please don’t stop. Oh, I’m going to come!”
He reaches for my hair and pulls it. Forming a ponytail with it, he yanks it like a leash, forcing me to arch my back more and release more strangled moans. Before I succumb to the dark pleasure he inflicts on me, he stops mid-thrust.
“I need to hear you say how fucking perfect you are.”
My brows rise, my chest heaving. He’s denying me my orgasm.
“Gavin…” I hiss. “Please,” I pant.
“No.”
Thrust.
“Now tell me how perfect and beautiful you are. Fucking say it.”
He pulls my hair again, making my head whip back until we lock eyes. He nestles his face onto my cheek, then his tongue licks my lips. My heart flutters in my chest.
“I’m perfect. I’m beautiful,” I say, a sting hitting my eyes. I know what he’s doing, and I hate him for it. I hate myself for getting to a place where I doubted myself.
“And?” he taunts, his voice deepening.
Thrust.
I squeeze my eyes shut. He hits deep; that spot inside of me has me shrieking for more.
“I’m enough. I’m more than enough.”
Then he strums my clit in circles, and then moves to my slit, coating his finger with my arousal.
His hand disappears, and my eyebrows narrow.
He’s sucking and cleaning my taste off his skin.
The sight has me completely blown off the edge, and I’m clenching down on him.
I scream his name, and he roars with deep satisfaction.
His pace quickens for a moment, his power making my breasts bounce while I balance on my toes, almost knocking me into the fire.
He pulls me back to him and just then, his cock jerks inside me.
My mind is completely blank. He kisses my shoulder, the back of my neck, gripping my ass, worshipping every curve of my body.
I can’t think about anything as I try to come down from the clouds.
It’s so empowering for me to take control of what I like when it comes to sex.
I love being submissive, and his dominance has me in a chokehold.