Isidoro #3
With Julian’s help, we get the thing off me, but even as it collides with the wall and leaves a deep dent in it, it only slows down for a heartbeat before it bolts again, this time back into the bedroom.
I waste no time going after it, Julian right on my heels.
A wardrobe comes flying at us, so we duck out of its way.
When we recover, there’s an opening in the wall where the furniture was, and the creature’s nowhere to be seen.
Running as quickly as possible, we chase after it.
The pitch-black tunnel is cold and musty, and eventually leads outside after what feels like hours inside it.
Cliffs and boulders loom high above us in what must be an old quarry, the place now abandoned just like the spice factory.
“There he is!” Julian shouts, jumping down onto a ramp full of rock chunks. It shakes violently, seeming to be on its last legs. “Go around from the other side! Don’t let him get away!”
I break into a sprint, circling the gigantic rotting drilling rig so I can cut off the creature’s exit.
Half-built columns and rebar litter the ground, tall and glinting under the harsh sun like the teeth of a mythical dragon.
Julian grunts somewhere above, climbing and jumping.
By the time I’ve reached the other side of the rig, Julian is on the ground, struggling to keep up with the deadly beast.
“Fuck!” he screams as sharp and impossibly long claws sink into his thigh.
For a moment, I’m stunned. What is this creature? Why does it look so wrong?
Then, as if to make matters even worse, a long tail-like appendage with a sharp stinger rips a hole into the creature’s dirty clothes and swings at Julian’s neck. I act without thinking, my hyperspeed kicking in.
I won’t let Julian die. The thought invades my mind, absolute like the blood instincts that drive me.
Everything moves in slow motion, blurring as I crash into the creature that’s pinned Julian down and is about to decapitate him.
Its stinger grazes my already wounded flank, sharp pain radiating through me.
The force of our collision sends both the creature and Julian flying off the edge of the ramp and toward the deadly rods sticking out the unfinished section of the rig’s processing area.
I dash to that same edge and grab Julian’s hand, locking my fingers with his as my flank burns in agony from the reopened cut.
The creature wails in pain upon impact, its dying howl lasting only a second before suffocating silence settles around us.
Julian’s ragged breaths as he hangs over such a death trap for the second time pierce the stillness.
His free hand is clawing at his bleeding thigh.
His eyes gleam, too bright, pupils eating the color.
They are fixated on me, only on me, like I’m the only thing that exists in the entire world.
His grip trembles in mine, too tight, then not tight enough, while his pulse stutters.
My head spins, my vision shaking as I struggle to maintain my balance. There is something wrong with my injury, I’m losing a lot of blood, my strength is giving. His sweaty fingers tremble against mine, holding on precariously as if his body can’t decide whether to cling or let go.
He peeks down, turning pale as a ghost. The drop stretches beneath him, a dark ending I dare not acknowledge. I slip closer to the edge, the weight and my lightheadedness wearing me down. Julian cracks a faint smile as he meets my gaze.
“I’m starting to suspect I have a thing for high and very dangerous places,” he says, swallowing hard as his fingers slip further and his eyes flick downward. “You should probably let go unless you fancy yourself turning into a skewer.”
“Don’t,” I tell him, low and sharp. I’m not even sure what I mean—don’t look away, don’t let go, don’t die.
My grip tightens. His does too, desperately matching mine. He hangs like a maiden about to be sacrificed to the gods of the depths, beautiful, fleeting, almost celestial as the sun engulfs him in its golden embrace.
His chest jerks with a breath, sharp and uneven, and I feel it through our joined hands. Then his fingers slip again, just a fraction. His smile wavers. “Just… Let me go, Isidoro. This is your chance to get rid of me. I know part of you wants to.”
Something cold and vicious surges through me.
No. Not anymore.
The realization lands hard, deep and bone-rattling, wrong and right all at once.
Mine.
I strain my arm, my entire body tensing as I call onto the last of my power despite the blood loss.
If he dies, it won’t be like this. Not here. His fate is mine to decide.
Ignoring the stabbing pain that rips me apart, I funnel everything that I have into one last attempt as this burning certainty settles into my bones. The world blurs as I haul him up, my lungs and legs and balance straining to their limits.
It’s not graceful. It’s brute force, muscle and feral willpower refusing to release him.
His body slams into mine, a choked sound tearing from me as I pull and drag him until I’m sprawled on my back on the ramp and he’s hunched over me, chest rising and falling too fast, eyes wide and dazed, fingers digging into my shoulders like he doesn’t dare let go.
For a second, neither of us moves as the scent of his blood mingles with mine. The gravity of what we avoided by a thin thread hangs between us, heavy and monumental.
He leans in, his breath hot against my lips as his dark red eyes bore into my soul and its darkest, most hidden desires. He opens his mouth, whether to mock me or tease me or scold me, or thank me, or I don’t know, but I don’t give him the chance.
I kiss him.
I surrender to that urge, to the need that burns like a wildfire within me. I press my lips to his and taste him, my entire being coming alive.
The kiss isn’t gentle. It can’t be. I lose control immediately, the taste of his blood and saliva mixing with mine is too destructive. Too much, too potent, too perfect. Electricity zaps through me. My entire world narrows down to him, to this exhilarating man, to everything that Julian Corvath is.
My tongue pushes inside his mouth, dominant, demanding. I need more, I need all of him or I might go insane. I’ve resisted this for so long, I’ve fought not to give in since the day of our wedding, and now that I’ve finally tasted him again, I can’t stop myself. I just can’t.
Julian groans, letting me maneuver us against the metal column supporting the drilling structure. I cage him, devouring his mouth as the need within me spikes to new levels. His tongue battles with mine, part-pliant, part-aggressive, taking as much as it gives.
Mine.
He’s mine and he tastes heavenly.
I explore every inch of his mouth, every corner.
Nothing is enough, it’s like I’ve been possessed, my blood thrumming in my ears and my heart hammering loudly.
This man is the son of my enemy. He tricked me, he got under my skin and manipulated me, and yet I can’t help how much I want him.
From the moment I captured him, I’ve tried to fight it, to deny this primal urge to have him. But I can’t keep it at bay anymore.
I deepen the kiss, his sweet and forbidden taste like a drug to my system. Something inside me short-circuits, my mind going blank just like it did in the cathedral. I have no say in this anymore, I am a slave to my own body, to this imperative that states he’s mine.
My cock jerks, hard and wet. He groans and tries to rub his hip against it, wincing as the cut gets caught in-between.
I lick all over the inside of his mouth, distracting him from the pain.
He welcomes my advances, surrendering himself over, letting me do as I please as if he needs that as much as he needs blood to survive.
It’s mind-spinning. My hunger for him grows, my ravenousness doubles. I’m out of control, I need even more. My hand comes to his neck, squeezing hard enough to choke him a little but not strangle him. He moans under me, squirming and shivering as his arms wrap around me and clutch me closer.
“I was going to beg you to finally kiss me, but this works too,” he mutters as we briefly part for a breath of air.