25. Twenty-Five
25
TWENTY-FIVE
MILA
W ith a cold, calculated fury burning in my chest, Archer untied me and carried me into the bathroom, gently laying me in the warm, soothing water of the bathtub. I wouldn't admit it, but as much as I reveled in being bound and teased by him, a part of me seethed with anger at him. It was the fact that he teased me repeatedly, bringing me to the brink of orgasm, then stopping. I'd done everything he asked of me and more, yet he continued to test me.
And I was angry.
One thing I'd always been good at was being patient, but I needed to get even. But the last time I tried to get even, I ended up drugged, tied up, and chased through the woods before committing murder and smashing Emily's brains out.
Clearly , I had issues.
He cleaned me and then brought me back to bed. And when he left to have Gage stitch his hand, I decided to take back control. He needed to know who he was dealing with. So, I slid the knife he had used on me underneath my pillow, and I waited.
I waited until he came back into the room, pretending to be asleep .
I waited until he settled beside me, wrapping his arm around me like nothing had happened.
I waited until his breathing slowed and soft snores filled the bedroom.
And then I waited just a few minutes more.
When I felt satisfied that he was in a deep sleep, I reached my hand under my pillow, listening for any change in his breathing. The handle was cold and sticky in my hand, a reminder of what he had done to me with it.
I didn't hate it though.
There was something primal and twisted about fucking me with a knife. Smearing his blood all over me and forcing me to come when he wanted me to. And I couldn’t explain how good it felt to be used. To be at his mercy. But also, I wasn’t a weak bitch anymore, and he needed to learn that I would put up a fight.
I straddled him and pressed the sharp edge of the knife against his throat. He stirred, but I silenced him with a quick thrust of my hips, grinding my entrance against his naked body. His erection grew, but so did my power as I gripped the handle tighter, increasing the pressure of the knife against his throat. His green eyes opened, and I expected him to be shocked, maybe show fear, but his face still wore the calm demeanor I had become familiar with. He made no attempt to take the knife from me. Instead, he gave a mischievous smile like he was turned on.
There was no denying how much he craved the violence.
"A knife? Are you flirting with me, Mila?"
"No."
His question caught me off guard. He was enjoying this. I didn’t know how he was so calm while his life was quite literally in my hands.
"You know what knives do to me, love," he chuckled, the sound sending shivers down my spine.
"I'm returning the favor."
I rolled my hips over him, using my other hand to position his erection at my entrance, and sank down onto him. I gasped because we had never done this position before, and at this angle, he went deeper than I had expected. His hands reached for my hips, but I stopped him by pressing the knife deeper into his skin, drawing blood.
He was right; I did know what knives did to him. It was one of the things that drove me wild about him. That, and the fact that he could reduce me to a quivering wreck with just a look or a touch. But after his stunt earlier, I wasn't going to let him win. I would show him that I was just as powerful as he was.
I rode him hard, my movements sharp and precise, the sound of our bodies slapping together filling the room. I couldn't help but get lost in the sensation of him inside me. The cool metal of the knife against his throat grounded me, reminding me of my plan.
As I moved closer to climax, I could feel his cock twitching inside me, and he began to moan, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He knew he was losing control, but he didn't fight it.
"That's it, baby. Fuck me like the good girl you are," he groaned, watching me with primal hunger.
I bit down on my lower lip, trying to ignore how his words made me tremble. At that moment, I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him, and there was no going back. I slid down harder, my orgasm building with each passing second. He could feel it, too, because his hands gripped the pillow behind him, his breath growing harsher. My orgasm hit me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing with the force of it. Archer tensed beneath me, holding his breath, and in one swift motion, I lifted myself off of him, refusing to let him come.
"Next time you think I'm weak, remember this moment," I told him, pushing off the bed and taking a few steps backward to watch his reaction. I expected the incredulous look on his face as he lay there, dick still hard and panting, but what I didn't expect was when his eyes darkened, and he slowly sat up on the edge of the bed, watching me like a wolf stalked its prey. I lifted the knife in a defensive position because all the hair on the back of my neck stood up. He was menacing, but god, if he wasn't fucking beautiful.
He didn't say anything as he stood up, slowly approaching me. I suddenly became aware of how easily he could take me apart with one swift movement.
"You got exactly what you deserved for what you did to me." I stumbled backward, trying to gain distance between us.
He smirked, the corner of his lips turning up in a smile before he lunged at me. In a flash, he pinned me against the wall, our bodies slamming together with a loud crash. I struggled against him, swinging the knife, hoping to make contact, and when it did, he stopped. I followed his gaze to his side, where blood seeped out of a thin wound, covering the tattoo beneath it. I dropped the knife and stared at him in fear.
He was definitely going to kill me now.
"Run, little rabbit. When I catch you, I won't be gentle," he growled, his voice low and menacing.
I scrambled away from him and bolted out the door. I ran through the halls, and my heart hammered in my chest. My feet pounded on the cold floor, echoing through the empty halls as I tried to put as much distance between us as possible. I took the stairs two at a time, my leg threatening to give out under the strain. I threw open the front door and ran out onto the grounds, weighing my options. It was cold out, and I didn't want to go wandering through the woods, so I headed toward the garden maze. I knew he was faster and stronger than me, but I was smarter, and sometimes, you have to lean on your strengths. I raced inside the maze. The dark green hedges were ten feet tall, secluding me in the darkness. I turned corners and ducked into shadows, trying to lose him in the labyrinth of identical shrubbery.
The maze was disorienting even in the daylight, but at night, it felt impossible. I heard his footsteps behind me, growing louder with each passing second. Panic set in, and I sprinted faster, stumbling over the uneven terrain. Just as I reached a dead end, I spotted a hidden passageway I had never noticed. I ducked inside, hoping it would lead me out of the maze. I emerged from the passageway and found myself in a clearing by a marble structure that resembled a tomb—an ominous presence in the moonlight—with an arched doorway and tall columns. The clearing was bathed in the eerie glow of moonlight, casting shadows over the marble structure. It was an imposing sight, with intricate carvings and detailed statues of angels weathered and worn adorning the area. The moss-covered marble gleamed in the darkness, giving off an otherworldly aura.
The sound of Archer's voice behind me had my stomach dropping and my blood running cold.
"Found you, little rabbit," he called out, his voice carrying through the clearing. The chilling echo of his words hung in the air as I turned to face him. I could see the silhouette of his body—still naked—and his face illuminated by the pale glow. His eyes were wild, and his face was twisted in amusement. Those same eyes flicked over me, assessing me with his predatory stare—the stare that sent warmth pooling between my legs. There was blood running down his side and on his throat where I cut him.
What the fuck was wrong with me? Why was this turning me on?
I was weak. I knew he enjoyed the chase, and I ran because I did too. And the adrenaline culminated in that moment. That moment where he knew he'd caught me, and I knew there was nowhere for me to run. I wouldn't go without a fight, and he knew this too. This cat-and-mouse game we played was addictive, and it turned me on more than anything.
He approached me slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I was terrified and aroused all at once, and my heartbeat thudded loudly in my ears. There was a power in fear, a rush of adrenaline that coursed through my veins, intensifying the desire that burned within me. I backed away, and the cool marble of the stairs to the mausoleum was a stark contrast to the heated arousal building between my legs. He advanced, and I retreated, our dance becoming more and more intense. Our eyes never left each other, and the sexual tension of predator and prey grew palpable. He knew he could have me at any moment, but enjoyed watching me squirm.
My back pressed against the moss-covered door, and I grabbed the handle with both hands, the feel of the cold metal against my skin grounding me. I was trapped, unable to escape, and yet, the desire to submit to him was still there, burning brightly within me. His breath was hot on my neck, and his hand gently cupped my face, forcing me to look into his eyes.
"You know what happens next, don't you, little rabbit?" he whispered, his voice a seductive rumble.
I nodded, my eyes locked with his. He knowingly smirked, and without hesitation, his lips were on mine, harsh and desperate. I moaned into his kiss, the taste of him consuming me, and surrendered to the moment, my hands sliding down to grip his hips, pulling him closer. His erection was hard against me, and I could feel his desire as he kissed me hungrily.
The desire and fear melted into a potent cocktail, leaving me breathless and desperate for more. His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me closer, and I could feel our hearts pounding in sync. Our bodies moved in rhythm, as if we were two halves of a whole, finally coming together after a long and torturous chase. He slowly turned me around, pushing my face into the door and lifting my nightgown, exposing my bare ass to the cool breeze.
"I told you when I caught you, I wouldn't be gentle," he whispered, his hand sliding down my stomach and to my core, rubbing me through the thin fabric of my nightgown as I shivered, my body responding to his touch.
He gently pushed me forward, and his hands started caressing my ass cheeks. I began to whimper softly, wanting more of his touch. He spanked me, his hand leaving a stinging imprint on my skin. I gasped and tightened my thighs together, pain and pleasure sending lightning bolts to my core.
"You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against my ear.
I nodded, my mind swirling with conflicting emotions—desire, fear, anticipation, and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. He continued to spank me, his slaps growing harder and faster, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through me.
Suddenly, he stopped, his breath ragged against my skin. I could feel his erection pressing into me, the heat radiating from it. He reached down again, his fingers slippery with my arousal, and pushed my thighs apart, opening my legs for him.
"I'm going to take this tight ass of yours." His voice dripped with possessive lust as he leaned in closer, his breath caressing my ear. "I'm going to devour every inch of you, my sweet Mila. Your tight ass will be mine to claim, along with your sweet pussy, your mouth, and every drop of blood that runs through your veins. I will become your obsession, consuming your body, soul, and mind. Your blood will flow with mine until all you see is me."
I moaned softly. "Do it," I whispered, my voice shaking. I arched my back, inviting him to take what he wanted, and he didn't hesitate. His fingers probed between my cheeks, and his middle finger slipped inside me. I moaned and arched my back at the sudden but pleasant intrusion. His finger slid in and out, making me gasp in pleasure. Then, he pushed in two fingers, making me groan as he stretched my virgin hole. I panted heavily now, my breasts heaving with each breath. He removed his fingers abruptly, leaving my hole gaping slightly.
"You know I love you, right?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.
"You love me?" I whispered, not quite believing the words that just left his lips.
"Since the moment I saw you." His lips brushed against my ear. "Hold onto that because I'm going to fuck you like I don't."
Without warning, he thrust into me, tearing through the barrier of my virginity like a bomb. I cried out in agony, my body convulsing at the sudden intrusion. He held me tight, his hands gripping my hips as he moved in and out of me. My hands fought to find something to hold onto, but the cold stone kept slipping beneath my fingers. I struggled to breathe, each thrust tearing through my body. I moaned and squirmed, the sensation of his huge cock stretching my walls, overwhelming me as he filled me completely. His throbbing length pushed me to my limits, and it felt like my insides were tearing apart. His hands dug into my hips tighter, and I hissed in pain, tears running down my cheeks. It hurt so bad, but I didn't want him to stop. I craved this intrusion, the pain he provided me. It felt as right as the air I breathed. I screamed out loud, the pain in my cries mingling with the cacophony of night sounds that echoed through the air.
"That's my good girl. Scream for me. Let the heavens bear witness as the devil soils one of their angels. Let them weep as I defile a heavenly creature like you. Let them tremble in fear as I consume your innocence, savoring every drop of your blood in front of their feeble eyes." His voice was laced with sadistic pleasure. He thrusted harder and faster, his grip tightening on my hips.
I was in sheer agony, and yet, a feeling of rapture washed over me as his thrusts became more powerful. The pain merged into an all-consuming orgasm, pulsating waves of ecstasy coursing through me. I clawed at the moss on the marble wall, seeking something, anything, to ground me in this whirlwind of emotions. His breath was ragged, his voice hoarse as he continued, his cock hitting the deepest part of me, stretching me to my limits. I needed him to continue. I needed him to keep pushing me, to keep breaking me down, to keep consuming me. I was his, and he knew it.
His thrusts became more frantic as his muscles tensed behind me. His fingers dug into my skin, marking me with bruises that would last, the indelible imprint of the moment on my soul. With a guttural groan, he let go and emptied himself inside of me, his hot seed filling every crevice, sending both of us over the edge. My legs shook as he pulled out of me, turning me around and cupping my face.
"You're going to be the death of me, little rabbit," he whispered, his eyes glinting with appreciation. "But I will die happily in your arms, tangled in our sin, and forever changed by you."
He pulled me close, his kiss fierce and passionate. His lips tasted of salt and exertion, and I reveled in the feeling of his chest pressing against mine, our hearts beating rapidly in sync. I wrapped my arms around him, holding tightly to keep from falling to the ground. I looked at him, my eyes glazed over. "I won't let you die," I promised.
He smiled a sexy smile that made my heart race, even in its wrecked state. "You're a good liar, Mila. But you can't save me from myself."
I smiled as I felt our mingled fluids trickle down my thighs. I couldn't help but touch the wetness between my legs, feeling the slick, sticky residue on my fingers.
He stood back, his erection glistening with my blood, reaching out his hand for mine. "Come on, you little minx. Let's get you inside before you catch a cold."
I grabbed his hand tightly, his skin warm despite the cold weather. "Says the heathen that's butt naked and covered in blood."
He chuckled a low and rusty sound. "Let's just say I've always had a thing for the natural look," he said, winking.
With our hands entwined, we walked back into the house, our footsteps echoing on the stone floor. He led me to the bathroom, where I stood under the hot shower, letting the water wash away the blood and sweat. He joined me, his arms wrapping around my waist, our bodies pressed together under the spray.
"You're the most potent drug in the world. I'll never be able to get enough of you," he whispered, nibbling on my earlobe.
I leaned back against him, closing my eyes and savoring the moment of purity. For the first time in my life, I understood the depths of love—the all-consuming power it held. The way it could turn you into a monster or a savior. The way it could make you feel invincible and fragile at the same time. And I knew I was willing to let myself drown in the depths of his love, to let him consume me completely, and to experience the highs and lows that came with it. He pulled me closer, his erection pressing against my back. I shivered, feeling the remnants of his seed trickling down my legs, mingling with the water.
"You're my obsession," I whispered back, my voice barely audible above the roar of the shower. "And I will love you until there is no breath left in my body."
I was no longer Mila, the quiet and obedient girl. I had become something more—something wild, untamable, and irresistible. And I would do whatever it took to keep my devil by my side.