Chapter 13
Thirteen
Zee
My gaze sticks to my screen.
Drey: im dun w u
Drey’s never done. He doesn’t forgive. He stows his hate away until he can use it later.
Moving to the window, I look out for his ridiculous car with that star decal on the back.
It’s gone. So are his friends.
Crre-ea-k!
My head snaps towards the door.
“Drey?”
I wait a few moments for another sound. Drey’s voice.
Nothing comes.
With a long exhale, I move towards the bed, tossing my sweater to the floor before climbing in.
The air is warm against my naked body as I settle into the sheets. I’m still not sure how heat returned, but I’m grateful for it.
Closing my eyes, the image of my dead father flashes before I pop them open again.
I checked the closet when I got home from the Insectarium. I don’t know how Atlas did it, but the body was gone. He even put boxes back in their place, all stacked neatly with the door closed as if nothing had ever happened.
When I texted him, he kept it simple.
Zee: thank u
Atlas: You’re welcome.
I want to ask what happened. I want to ask if he went to the cops.
Did he bury the body or burn it?
Do I want to know?
Did he find out who murdered my dad?
Am I next?
Cree-eak!
My body stills.
The lights go out.
Flutters explode in my stomach, a pang in my chest.
He’s here.
I push up on my arms, my eyes moving to the bedside table. I reach for my lighter.
I put a candle here for this very moment.
I need to see him.
I light it with a shaky hand before I glance back at the door.
My stomach flips.
My breath stops.
His figure fills the doorframe.
Broad. Tall.
Familiar.
The flickering flame catches the side of his face, his dark brown eyes shining in it. As usual, he covers the rest of his face with that mask I want to rip off.
My eyes drop to his body, trying hard to make out any details by candlelight.
Motorcycle jacket.
Denim pants.
Muddy, dirty boots.
He takes a step towards me.
My body buzzes.
He’s covered in something dark, as if he rolled in dirt.
I’m frozen when he takes another step, a tingle between my legs.
The candle flickers more light on his shadow.
Wait…
Is-is that blood?
My breath hitches, his towering presence engulfing me when he stands by the edge of the bed.
My eyes drag up to his before his gloved hand lands on my bare chest.
My breath escapes me as I fall back against the mattress with one push.
Woosh!
The candle goes out, darkness taking over again.
Something drops to the ground before the bed dips, its springs creaking as he climbs onto the bed.
I can’t fucking move.
His warm breath lands on my neck as he wraps his arms around me.
My breath stutters, heat low in my stomach.
He pulls me close to his body, my ass against him.
Then, he just holds me.
It takes a second, but it happens. That feeling again. Soft. Warm.
My muscles relax against him, and I let his arms wrap further around me. He clutches me against him like a priceless heirloom.
If my parents saw me now, in bed, cuddled up with an intruder, a stalker, a killer… they’d for sure know I'm cursed. Or my foster father was right.
Something's wrong with me.
But I don’t want him to stop.
His lips land against my neck, a soft kiss tingling my skin.
My eyes widen when it hits me.
If his lips are exposed, then his mask is off.
“Don’t.” He clutches me tighter, reading my mind. And for some reason, I listen. “Good girl.”
My stomach flips, his breath in my ear.
“Wh-what do I call you?” I ask.
“Sir.” His teeth graze my earlobe, his hands moving from around my waist, sliding up to my sides as he kisses along the back of my neck. “Call me, Sir.”
My nipples harden when his fingers climb higher, and then my body gives in. I push my ass against his growing hardness, my cheeks burning. His fingers inch closer, brushing against my nipple as his voice lands against my ear.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I sigh. My thighs close in as if to fight it, but in his grasp, there’s no use.
“Yes, who?” Finally, his fingers close in on my nipple before he rolls it between his grasp. My back arches against him, a longer sigh escaping.
It’s fucking crazy to think he can come in here and own this place. My body. Me. But it’s different than what I’m used to. It’s different from Drey or other men who thought they could do the same.
Sugar Skull pays attention.
Sugar Skull centres my pleasure in a way that makes me turn to puddy.
“Yes. Who?” he demands, another claiming kiss on my neck as one hand travels between my legs.
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” He groans into my ear, his dick rock-hard against me. It throbs like his heartbeat. Steady. Strong.
His nails graze my skin as his hand slides down my thigh.
“Spread for me, angel.” And I fucking do, my body telling him more than my words ever could. He groans, his fingers inching closer to my centre. “Do you want my fingers, Zee?”
I’m so fucking cooked.
“Yes, sir.” The words leave my mouth like I’m some obedient bimbo as his fingers part my slit. “Fuck, yes.” I can’t control how much I want this. “Yes, sir.”
“You’re so fucking wet for me.” He moves his fingers like he told me, in circles over my aching clit. I grip the sheets as his other hand pinches my nipple again, and holy shit, I’m not high anymore, but it sure as hell feels like it. “You’re fucking soaking, Zee.”
He’s right. I can feel it. The way his fingers slide over my slick clit, circling it. He’s not in a rush. He’s not touching me like he’s mashing buttons in a video game. He’s not missing the spot entirely. He’s precise. Even when he quickens his pace, even when he presses harder.
“Oh god…” Another moan leaves me as I rock against him.
“What do you want, Zee?”
The answer comes quick. “Your fingers. I need your fucking fingers.”
“So greedy,” he chuckles, his laughter vibrating against me in a way that only adds to the pleasure between my legs. “Say please.”
“Please, Sir,” I’m moving like I’m possessed, writhing against him, squirming for more. “Please push your fingers inside me.”
“Good fucking girl,” he groans, before two thick fingers push into me.
The heat of relief spreads across my chest as I buck against him, my body begging for more.
“Sir!” My hand grips the sheets, a force inside me I’ve never felt before. My entire face tingles, my body floating to heaven. “Holy fuckkkk.”
I reach for his hand, but he tsks in my ear…
“Take it, Angel,” he says. “Don’t deny yourself any longer.”
He keeps going, his thumb circling my clit as he pumps his fingers faster.
“Sh-shit…” I can hardly speak, my mind blank.
His thrusts get harder as he hits that spot deeper. And deeper. My thighs close around his hands, my breath ragged.
Then he stops. “Get on my fucking face, Zee.”
My body freezes. So does my brain.
I have a hell of an ass, but that comes with some extra weight. At least that’s what Drey says.
“I-I don’t know if you want me to actually—”
Sugar Skull rolls over and a squeal escapes me as he grabs my hips, pulling me on top of him.
He handles me with ease. No straining. No complaining.
I'm nothing but a doll in his hold.
His mouth lands between my thighs as I hover over his face. His breath tickles my clit, tingles spreading up my core.
“Sit."
“I am.”
“Don’t hover.” His hands smack against each of my ass cheeks, a sting of pleasure rippling through me. “Sit.” Gripping my hips, he pulls me on his face.
Right on his tongue.
Oh fuck…
He’s as hungry as last time, inserting a finger while one hand stays on my ass, keeping me positioned on his mouth.
My hands brace the wall as he thrusts his fingers, swirling his tongue. The combination makes my thighs shake against his cheeks, my head falling back.
“Fu—!”
The last bit of my word cuts short as he takes my breath away, the entire world fading around me.
I grind hard against his face, moving my hips, riding his tongue. Heated tingles spread over my cheeks.
Then it happens.
That release.
That tremor.
That moment when everything feels like stars.
He groans, lapping me up as I let my weight crash down on him.
He’s not phased. He doesn’t re-position, he doesn’t tell me to get up.
He lets me ride it out until I’m a complete shaking mess.
Until he’s pulling me down to wrap his arms around me again.
My body settles against him, his words in my ear as I drift into heaven. “My angel.”
I blink, the window coming into view as the room blurs into clarity around me.
Then it hits me.
Like a fucking brick.
I whip myself over, hoping to see his face, praying to see the eyes of the man who makes me feel like a deity.
My stomach sinks.
It looks like no one was ever there, half of the bed made to perfection.
I pull the sheets back, hoping he’s left something behind. A reminder that I’m not insane and his touch is as real as it felt.
My eyes narrow on a small smear of red on the sheets below the blanket. Blood.
Pushing the blanket further away, I look for another sign of Sugar Skull. My eyes land on my thighs, my cheeks burning when I see a small purple bruise.
My mind flashes back to me on Sugar Skull’s face. Sir’s face. His grip was tight, making sure I didn’t dare move from his tongue. No one's ever treated me with such care and desire.
Sinking back into the sheets, I listen out for a creak or a thump, but I know better. He won’t be here in broad daylight. Even if I rode his face like a fucking stallion.
A chill fills me, an emptiness in my chest.
Disappointment.
My hands come to my face.
I’m really insane if I’m sad my stalker isn’t here.
My phone buzzes.
I jump.
My eyes move to the bedside table, a reminder on the screen for Kon’s class. I reach over to silence it, my hand stalling when I see what’s beside it.
A note.
The handwriting is crystal-clear. Sharp lines. Perfect spacing.
You said my name in your sleep, Angel
- Sugar Skull (Sir)