chapter forty-two
THE POISONER
I didn’t remember the last time I ate.
After a few days of testing the venom on myself, I noticed my appetite shrinking. It was like the disappointment of returning to reality made me feel like doing anything was useless. Nothing was ever satisfying enough.
On the bright side, my skin was soft, my body more rested, and the aches and pains had dissipated. This could be used in so many wonderful ways, and it motivated me to keep going. How ironic that a creature so vile could produce something that could ease the pain of others.
I could resume special orders to existing clients soon. Overall, things seemed to be calming in my life again.
Even the wallpaper became more interesting every time I was supposed to be doing something else, such as getting a good night’s rest. Every time I tried to sleep, I found myself jotting down notes in the dreams themselves only to wake up quickly and write those thoughts down before they evaporated.
There was no telling how many nights I had spent at Silas’s estate. Losing track of days was an unfortunate side effect of the venom in such a concentrated form. Even with this slight disadvantage, what a relief it was to feel removed from my body, as passive as flowing water in a river.
A walk around Silas’s garden was the best way I could manage my unrest. The cold air brushed at my skin and pinched my face.
Midnight dew seeped into the fabric of my gown, and my hands could not find anything to do except pick at my nails.
The garden was barren of any flowers by now, but the greenery still provided a comforting shadow to hide under.
With the witching hour upon me, I accepted that sleep would not visit me anytime soon.
A crackling of the phonograph cut through the air, and the soft hum of a waltz was heard from the living room window.
When I turned, the window was illuminated—open to let the swell of music float leisurely out into the backyard.
The warm glow from the inside lit the grass in a tall window of light stretching out across the grounds.
The soft playing of the piano paired with the rising and falling of the waltz pace was so fitting as of late.
A dance was the perfect way to describe it.
A hand smoothed along my waist, and my Creature circled around me.
Silas’s hand brushed against my cheek, his thumb smoothing over my skin. His eyes were soft, a calm about them that reminded me of the forest before a heavy rain—a stillness that was serene, but a warning to those who knew what it meant.
I leaned into his hand briefly but slipped away to move around him in return, though he refused to turn his back to me, following my movements.
He stepped closer, touching along the underside of my arm to extend it out, taking my hand gently. His other hand was at my waist.
His hand in mine, our fingers looped together so softly. They fit like pieces that were carved from the same stone. If I had asked myself a few months ago if these hands would be caught being so tender, I would have said that the wool had been pulled over my eyes.
We stepped in the rhythm of a three-four signature as we danced in and out of the light from the window littering the garden.
He was graceful, though I was sure he had had many years of practice. His movements with mine were so smooth that it was like we could go on like this forever, stuck in one fluid moment that seamlessly blended into the next.
He leaned down as he moved, like he wanted to be closer, pulling my waist closer until there was no more room between us and our dance was no longer able to continue. His craving for closeness overpowered the desire to keep going, like it was too much to ask for both at once.
I tilted my head up at him. Our frosted breaths intermingled as we stayed like that, savoring the moment.
We were nobodies at that moment. I was not the daughter of a chemist, a botanist, or a killer. He was not a creature, a cannibal, or a man.
I stood up on my toes to interlock our lips, kissing him sweetly. He let out a soft sound, a sweet gasp of longing, as did I. His arms encircled my waist as mine snaked over his shoulders, entangling my fingers in his soft golden hair.
If he were something to be consumed, I feared I would not savor him and would selfishly eat him first—no time for saving the best bite for last. Only the need to have him remained.
THE CREATURE
That was the first time she’d kissed me. Truly kissed me.
I had not realized until that moment that I always moved first. It would be a moment I would savor, hoping to remember every detail. The tingle along my scalp spread as she entwined her fingers in my hair.
I wanted more than to have her close. I wanted her to crawl under my skin and make a home out of my rib cage, for my heart would only beat for her. Not even a single pump of my atria was allowed if it was not for my dearest shadow, my chosen—my Alina .
My hands slid up her spine over the neat buttons along her neckline, popping them out of their loops one by one, though it was hard not to be hasty. One thing she had certainly exercised within me was patience.
She leaned back, pulling me over her and making me lower her to the ground.
Her lips tasted so sweet, so alive against mine.
She had tasted like many things I would learn to love.
It used to be the smell of cherries that I enjoyed the most, or the bitter almond taste that I soon learned was cyanide, or the pollen of formidable flowers of the day.
Now, it was the taste of her name on my tongue or mine on hers.
Her hands untangled themselves from my hair, and a low groan escaped her as I feasted on her lips, biting gently on her bottom lip when I would break briefly to breathe. Her dainty fingers tugged at the buttons of my shirt.
I slipped her gown off her shoulders and farther down her torso, exposing her breasts to me.
I ran my hands over them. I adored how they fit perfectly in my hands, made for my touch only.
Her body was meant to be held by my hands, to be taken by only mine.
If I had carved her from clay with my hands, I would be afraid of touching her again, fearing the perfection I had created—I imagined that was what God felt when making her, if he existed at all.
I was so enamored. She had me understanding why people believed in such things.
I was too impatient for her to undress me. She only got a few buttons undone before I pulled away, tugging the dress the rest of the way down her body. She pressed her knees together in an attempt to hide from me.
I undid my trousers and touched myself along my shaft. It was becoming painful to deny myself any relief as I looked down at the body splayed before me. She covered her chest with her arms.
“No,” I begged. “I want to see you.”
“I am cold,” she whispered, but I knew that it was not that.
“Then let me keep you warm.” I parted her thighs and leaned down to kiss her again, positioning myself between her long legs. I pushed the tip into her, feeling the heat surrounding my cock.
She flinched before relaxing again, moving her hands to the grass.
I took both of her hands and pinned them above her with one hand. My other hand lifted one of her legs higher on my hip as I lowered my hips down, sinking farther into her.
“ Silas ,” she breathed shakily. Her thigh was trembling under my touch as I began to move.
“Say it again,” I breathed against her cheek, leaving a trail of kisses down to her jaw, then following it to the front of her throat to wrap my lips around the skin there.
“ Silas! ” she cried for me. The vibration of my name in her throat was like honey and sweet cream against my lips as I sucked at her sensitive skin.
I shivered as I thrust into her, feeling her warmth surround me and hitting the sweet spot when bottoming out, letting me know I filled her completely. It would only be me for as long as I was alive. My cock throbbed, dedicated to the single task of pleasing her.
“ Alina ,” I whispered, “tell me what you want.” I picked up my pace, burying myself in her as deeply as she would allow.
“I…want you,” she breathed, unable to focus on speaking as I became rougher with my movements. She bucked her hips upward, attempting to move with me.
“You have me.” My hand on her thigh scooped under her, holding her hips up as I thrust.
Her skin glowed in the night, like moonlight. The dewdrops scattered through her midnight hair, the stars in the sky. The blue in her eyes softened just for me, my very world as I knew it.
I let go of her hands and placed both of mine on her hips. I sat back on my heels as I did so, taking in the view of my cock sliding in and out along with her body on display for me on the ground.
She was mine . All of her.
If I had any claim to anything priceless, it was her.
“ Alina ,” I gasped, the sounds of her moans flooding my senses with an intoxicating edge that made me crave more and more until it would be the last deadly dram of opium.
She laced her fingers in the grass. Her long torso arched as I lifted her hips higher, sitting up on my knees as I pushed as deep as I could. She relaxed enough for me to reach the hilt this time, but I knew I would not last much longer.
She suddenly leaned up, kissing me as she pushed me back to lay on the ground, straddling my hips and effectively switching our positions.
She bit my lip roughly, drawing some blood.
I kept our lips locked to prevent a similar situation to the botanical gardens.
My tongue slipped over the cut on my lip and over her own.
She rolled her hips on my cock, desperately trying to bring it deeper, to use it to derive as much pleasure as she could.
She moaned against my mouth before I pulled away, wanting to hear it.
Her sweet sounds made it hard for me to hold anything back.
I would wait for her to finish, let her use me for whatever she wanted.
I would give her anything, body, mind, and soul—if I had one. It was all hers to take.
I leaned up on my elbow, one hand on her hip, entranced with her movements.
If she let me, I would worship her like this every day for eternity.
Her body rose confidently as she moved her hips, her hands resting on my chest as she used me.
I tried to stay still, not wanting to disrupt her.
She closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side as she shifted forward on me.
“Alina…I can’t much longer,” I gasped, subtly moving my hips to her rhythm.
“Then do not hold back,” she whispered, leaning forward against my chest as she bit my neck playfully.
As long as I had permission.
I flipped her over and put one leg over my shoulder, the other between my legs. I leaned over her as she lay on her side in the grass. I grabbed her by the face, turning it toward me.
“You are mine ,” I whispered against her lips, a smirk forming as I slammed into her as hard as I could. “You will never be rid of me.”
Those blue eyes looked up at me pleadingly before they occasionally rolled back.
That’s right. This is how you like to feel.
I gasped as I watched her. The force of my thrusts was making it hard to hold her face at the same time, so I grabbed her hair and pinned my arms to the grass on either side of her, twisting her upper body as I forced my length fully into her with every thrust, making her take it all.
It was useless to hold anything back any longer as I reached orgasm and the spines dug into her flesh inside.
She flinched when the spines pierced her.
It brought me no joy that it had to hurt, but it felt so good to be inside her like this.
Even the involuntary parts of me ached to sink themselves into her.
Not only could I feel my cock pulsing, but I could feel the spines latch on to her, filling her with venom.
She made what sounded like a whimper. I tried to comfort her by kissing her hot skin, the coolness of the air conflicting with our burning bodies. Her leg slipped off my shoulder and hooked around my waist, pulling me closer.
I never thought I could reach the point of craving someone aside from a simple hunger. Starving for her would be more painful than any true hunger. I would rather perish. I was wholeheartedly, pathologically addicted to her.