18. Dante
Dante
I like to consider myself a reasonable man.
Not always pleasant, not always the nicest person to get along with.
But reasonable. Yet, something about Melody makes me unreasonable.
Irrational. I find myself wanting her to be happy.
I find myself wanting to give her the world.
Even when she's furious, even when she's purposefully antagonizing me.
And especially when she's drawing blood from a ratfuck shithead like Chad .
She let me get the first slice in, of course, but she took over from there.
It's beautiful. She's an artist. I lick my lips as I watch her eyes roll back in her head.
A full-body shiver runs down my spine as she guts the man like a fish, his intestines spilling out onto his blood-soaked lap.
"I hate to bother you, love," I call out to my enraptured wife. "But I must say, you look absolutely stunning in that red."
Melody whips her head back, tossing her brown-black waves. Spatters of blood decorate her face like gruesome freckles, and she looks incredible. She grins and waves a bloodied hand. "Why, thank you, Mr. Lyons."
Fuck. Oh, fuck, that does something to me.
I feel myself suddenly straining against the zipper of my pants.
I can't believe we haven't discussed the possibility of period play, but now feels like as good a time as any.
Practically floating over to her, I remove the machete from her hands and toss it to the side, ignoring Chad's slumped-over corpse.
"Melody, love. I want you," I breathe into the shell of her ear, tracing a droplet of blood over the exposed skin of her neck.
She flinches back, confused. "But I'm—uh, I mean, I'm still… bleeding?"
I can't help but laugh at the expression on her face. "Sweet love, I've fucked you in a pool of someone else's blood. You're covered in another man's blood. What makes you think I'd be disgusted by a little of your own?"
A full range of emotions flutters across Melody's face, and it takes all of my willpower not to shove her to the ground and rut her like a beast. Finally, she smirks and nods, slipping out of her drenched pajama pants.
"Turn around," she commands.
"Why?"
"It feels weird to take out a tampon in front of you."
Dutifully, I turn around as directed. A few seconds later she taps on me on the shoulder, and then yanks me to the floor. She's a vision. The deep crimson streaks over her thick thighs, her full tummy, her perfect breasts. I love everything about what I see, and I need her to know that, now .
"Get on the floor. Ass up, love." The command is soft, but I mean every word. Her eyes flash with desire, and she kneels down, lowering herself to her elbows and knees. I tsk and shake my head. "No, all the way down."
Hesitantly, she slides her elbows in the slick blood until her cheek is pressed against the floor.
Her plump ass jiggles as she heaves in a shaking breath.
The sight sends me into a frenzy—I wanted to take it slow, I wanted to make her beg for it, but I can't stop myself.
I shove my pants down and kneel behind her, frantically shoving the head of my cock to her entrance.
I grip the soft flesh of her hips as I settle myself into her.
Melody breaths out a contented sigh as I breach her walls and thrust in, hard and fast. This is not making love.
I can't stop myself from tearing into her.
Her wet heat feels fucking divine, and I can't get enough.
I can't get enough of her scent. I can't get enough of the pleasured gasps and yelps she lets out as I drive myself deeper into that perfect pussy.
"You're so fucking perfect, love. You're perfect, you're gorgeous, and you're mine ."
My words have a considerable effect on her as I feel her cunt clench around my cock, welcoming me in further.
I'm not going to last very long. I can't hold myself back.
Sliding one hand around the soft hang of her belly, I circle her clit just the way she likes.
She's a guitar string aching to be plucked.
I pinch the sensitive nub of flesh, eliciting a deep moan, as I fuck her into the hard, bloodied floor.
Melody squirms beneath me. Her cunt chokes my cock as I draw back and plunge deeper, harder, faster, my own orgasm chasing just behind the one building within her.
I grunt out a curse as my eyes roll back in my head and I see white, nothing but white.
Her body detonates around my cock as she screams my name, and I gasp out a feral groan.
Filling her with my cum, I slow my strokes and release her clit from my grasp.
A shiver runs down her spine, and she breathes out a slow sigh. I pull my cock out of her delicious pussy and watch my cum dribble down her lips, flooding her clit, dripping onto the floor. Resting on my heels, I push the cum back in. "You're so goddamn perfect."
With both of our chests heaving in deep breaths, Melody turns her head back to look at me. A single tear ekes out from her eye and rolls down her cheek, splashing to the floor amid all the smeared red.
"What's wrong, love?" I ask, leaning over her back and cupping her cheek.
"I don't know. It's funny. I've never once felt, uh, desirable? I guess? When I'm on my period. But you…" She stops and chews her bottom lip. "I can already tell you're gonna take this to heart and get an even bigger head. You make me feel sexy."
Consider my head inflated to astronomical levels. Involuntarily, I puff out my chest and smirk. "That's because you are. No matter what time of the month."
"Ugh, I take it back. You're a massive dork."
Roman and I sit in my office, decompressing after yet another mind-numbingly boring meeting.
I'm going crazy. Melody has wormed her way into my mind and replaced all rational thought with insanity.
I keep coming back to that word. Irrational.
It's highly irrational for me to be bored out of my mind during an acquisition proposal.
Cutthroat business meetings usually amp me up, or they did, before her .
"Roman," I muse. "Am I losing my edge?"
"Permission to speak freely?" He casts a sideways glance at me, and I nod. "I think… I think you're happy. I think that crazy bitch makes you happy."
I smirk. "She does. It's weird, isn't it?"
"Not that weird. She matches you, toe-to-toe, and uh…
It seems like she keeps you very satisfied.
More than anyone I've seen you with before, I mean.
" He stares at my desk like he could bore a hole into it with his vision.
"I can't help but notice, though. You haven't taken her to meet the other Mrs. Lyons. "
I feel like someone broke a glass bottle over my head. Fuck. He's right. My mother attended the wedding, of course—her only son getting married was a momentous occasion. I've missed a few calls from her here and there, but the Goetic security would let me know if anything was seriously wrong.
It's not that I don't love my mother. I do.
But she reminds me too much of him . The man who made me this way.
The man who gave me all of my generational wealth.
The man who beat weakness out of me. The man who bagged my mother.
And every time I think of my mother, I see his pathetic corpse in that hospital bed. Kept alive by wires and tubes.
Horrific. Disrespectful. Even the worst of us don't deserve that. And the fact that my mother was the one who put them up to it, to keeping him alive for as long as possible… it's unconscionable. I had half a mind to put a DNR in place for myself the same day, but Roman talked me out of it.
"Sir?" Roman's voice floated into my mind, pulling me out of my spiral.
I cleared my throat and shook myself. "You're right. I'll need to rectify that."
"Do you need to restock any supplies?" A shadow of a smirk flits across his face.
"Hmm? No, she's got the equivalent of a warehouse full of menstrual products."
"That isn't what I meant, sir. I meant the other supplies. The kind that goes into her arm and makes her less… volatile."
Oh . Right. "Unnecessary. She has been very compliant."
I'd never admit it to Roman, let alone anyone else on this earth, but I completely forgot about the sedatives.
It was like a switch had been flipped. She went from fighting me at every turn, baring her teeth like a trapped animal, to…
acceptance. I feel myself smile at the memory of her running through the house.
Chasing her. Capturing her. Making her mine .
My cock stirs in my pants, and I stare up at the ceiling, tracing the patterns in the drop ceiling tiles. She's not even around to take care of this erection. I need it to go away.
"Compliant is not a word I'd ever thought you'd use for her, sir." Roman gently coughs and averts his gaze.
"Honestly? Me neither. But she's full of surprises."
I drift through the days on a cloud of… not love, but something close to it.
Melody begs for my cock almost daily, and I'm overjoyed to give it to her.
She even cracked Helena's professional shell—those women will be the death of me.
I still trust her to take care of my wife.
But it makes me… happy… to see their blossoming friendship.
It becomes a routine. I go to work with Roman, while Melody and Helena stayed at the house—or gallivanted around the city—but were always back home in time to greet me at the door.
I'd never admit it to anyone, but my heart leaps in my chest every time Melody's thousand-watt smile graces me every evening.
Until today. Today, she barely looks up from the book she's reading on the couch when I enter the house. Her lip is bloodied and raw, like she's been chewing it nervously. I slump into the couch cushions next to her and nuzzle her with a kiss to the cheek.
"Someone's watching the house," she whispers.