Chapter 23
Oliver
"The scars we bare or proof of survival, not shame."
“Ahh!” Brennan’s cries echo across the courtyard.
Peter had managed to bite him, as he was unwrapping the cat-o’-nine that corkscrewed around his throat.
Crawling at first, Peter claws at the dirt for traction, allowing him to pull himself to his feet—but barely.
It didn’t take Brennan long to recover, grunting as he shook the pain away.
“Hmm, you know my mom always told me not to play with my food.” He rolls his shoulder producing a succession of rolling cracks from his neck to his upper back presenting a subdued sound as if thunder surged through a dense forest, “I can’t help it, though. It’s too damn fun!”
I watch as they both disappear into the garden. My heart leaps from my chest once the realization sinks in. “Emory!” Racing to the archway, I get there just as Brennan is dragging Peter’s lifeless body out… by the collar of his shirt.
I speed past him in Emory’s direction, slamming my shoulder into him—hitting him hard enough that he must back-step. When I make it to her, she is lying on the garden floor, drenched from the water as it seeps into her clothes from the puddle she fell in.
Scooping her into my arms, I stare at her for a moment. Her porcelain doll face is shimmering with the rain that clings to it. Droplets bead on her lashes, so still they look like crystals.
“I am so sorry, little bird,” I mutter, kissing her forehead. “I should have never left, but I had to get him away from you.”
Pressing my forehead to hers, my Newsy lifts slightly as I close the gap between us.
“I wish there were more I could do.” The water glistening on the bench from the rain catches my attention, and I feel my heart skip a beat.
“So, little time.” Then I turn, lifting her with ease as I rise to my feet—then carry her away.
As I kick back the door, I hurry to lay her down on the bed.
Brushing strands of hair from her face, then to my surprise, I see that a spot near her temple is matted.
She must have hit her head—I check her breathing, it’s regular, but she doesn’t budge as I peel my soaking wet button-up from her body.
I meander over to the wardrobe that displays an array of outfits in her size.
I settle on a silk black nighty and a white sheer robe.
“You will be waking up soon, dove.” The color of her skin is a pearlescent blue as it absorbs the light of the moon. “So, I will get things ready.”
Again, I find myself running her a bath, only this time it will be different—this time I will know for sure.
Steam forms on the mirrors as the temperature rises, and I unbutton my shirt to avoid overheating.
I hear the bed creak slightly as she shifts, and I make my way to the door to see her bent over on her hands and knees—crawling to me.
It didn’t matter if that was her intention—the imagery was already there.
The intrusive thoughts stir up… yet again.
I drift into a daydream, and I am sitting in my office with her chained to my desk.
The candlelight mixes with the shadows, casting an ombre of black and gold over her glistening skin.
The shimmering sweat coruscates on her from our previous tussle in the sheets, as I lean forward—my elbows digging into my knees.
With a whisper, I give her the next command.
“Crawl to me, my dove.” The sound of the metal sliding across the hardwood.
.. possesses my hands… I squeeze them closed.
The popping sound of my knuckles reverberated off the walls.
Slowly, she drops her head, then looks up through her lashes.
The glittering silver collar shifts as her shoulders drop with her forward motion.
Watching… closely, I notice her tongue swipe over her swollen lips before biting down on it.
Deliberately, she takes her sweet ass time releasing it—the slow, soft pull as flesh slips through the clutch of the adamantine enamel clamps.
Following her lead, I settle back into my chair right at the same moment she reaches me… kneeling at my feet.
“Now,” Sitting back, she rests her ass on her heels. “How may I please you, my shadow?”
Her naked body, the ultimate distraction. “I-” My eyes scan her form, “Little bird, I want-” Swallowing hard, I take a deep breath—releasing it as I speak, “I want to watch you… pleasure yourself.”
A devilish smirk forms on her face as the look in her eye's lust for more commands, “Anything else?” She asks when I don’t catch her hint.
“Yes, call out my name.” She is fighting to keep her smile from giving her away and showing how much she genuinely enjoys our little game, “Tell me how good it feels.” She lies back on her elbow…
rotating her legs to rest in front of her—spreading them.
Her opposite hand begins doing the things mine were itching to do.
Then, her voice as sweet as her arousal, fills the air. “Oliver.” She moans. “Oh, Oliver.”
“Louder, princess.” My hand shifts to my slacks.
“Oliver!”
By the gods, little bird, you are… so…
“Oliver?” Her words came out sterner this time, snapping me back—I shake my head, rolling my eyes to clear the euphoric blur caused by my wet daydream. She has lowered herself down… Knees bent, legs splayed out to the side, with her hands resting in her lap.
“Yes, Dove?” I watch as she battles with her libido, practically biting a hole in her lip. I chuckle, purposefully adding a seductive tone to it—doing little to help with her struggles.
Nice to know I’m not the only one hot and bothered.
“What is it, little bird. You are biting your lip… again.” Vigorously, she shakes her head, like a puppy with a new chew toy. “Do you see something you like?” Her face contorts as a roller coaster of emotions fights to take control.
“No,” Hoping to redirect her thoughts, I ask, “You don’t like what you see?”
That did the trick.
She pauses, then responds, “What, oh, um, no, that’s not what-” I can see the battle she is fighting with herself, as she looks away from me. “Oliver, when you dropped me off at the garden-” Shuffling slightly, I shift from one foot to the other as she continues. “I saw something happen-”
I allow my head to canter until my ear kisses my shoulder. “Go on.” Listening, she explains in heavy detail what she saw ‘the mist’ do to Peter.
She must be talking about Brennan.
If she is seeing him as a ‘mist’ then it won’t be long.
“He-” The mix of fear and sadness in her voice solidifies the fact that she isn’t ready. “He killed him, Ollie.”
She puts her hands to her head, “Then there was a stabbing that radiated throughout my skull.” My heart leapt into my throat, and in that moment, all my attention was on what she said next.
“Suddenly, the awful sensation of swallowing water took hold of me. It was a massive amount, to the point I felt like I was drowning.” I stand straight, hanging on to every word she said.
“But I must have been dreaming because Peter’s spirit spoke to me.
” Eyes wide, doing all I can to bite my tongue, so as not to interrupt her.
“What do you mean it spoke to you?” I swallow hard. “What did it say?”
Her face twists with confusion, but she still answers.
“He won't be able to save you. At least I was able to rid the world of a few disgusting Selby peasants.”
That family will never learn—even in death, they are distrustful and lowly.
My nails are stamping crescent-shaped indentations in my palm, as I squeeze even harder.
In the fraction of a second, my knuckles became one with the drywall—holding back so as not to leave a hole.
“Not yet.” I plead with the universe and all the powerful beings that reside in it.
“I need more time. It’s too soon.” Repeatedly, I press my fist to the wall, “I am not ready. She isn’t ready.
” I look back at her—her expression is dubious and unsure.
“Oliver,” her voice was soft with worry. “Are you ok?”
Blinking, I look up at her. “Yes, my dove.” I lie, but it doesn’t stop there. “It all sounds like a bad dream.”
“Well, then,” her head lowers as her eyes scan the blanket and the clothes she is wearing. “What happened to my clothes?”
It only takes me a moment to produce a reasonable response for her, “I found you in the garden.” The lump is getting bigger, harder to swallow as the lies pile up. “You must have passed out, so I carried you back here… and with the rain—well, that I believe is self-explanatory.”
She looks down, in thought, then back at me. “What about Evelyn?” At first, hearing her ask this question confuses me. Then, I remember her dangling from the banister, and the confusion answers itself.
She.
Saw.
Evelyn.
“What about her?” I realize now she had to have seen her, or else she wouldn’t be asking. “I don’t think I am on the same page. Will you fill me in?”
“Was she just part of the dream, too?” I scratch my head through my cap, shifting it slightly, under the extreme discomfort that my lying has put me in. “Well, I don’t know what you think you may have seen. So, I am unsure how to answer.”
How do I tell her?
“Look,” Knowing I will regret it later, I play into the lie.
“I don’t know what it is you think you saw or dreamt, for that matter.
All I know is you are stressed.” The churning in my stomach, from my perfidious behavior, is sickly.
I try to change the subject. “I drew you a bath, maybe it will help… would you... like me to join you... this time?” She begins to open and close her mouth like a fish on a hook.
By the gods, I love watching her flounder.
I slide my shirt slowly off my shoulders, watching and waiting. It ripples and bunches as I pull the cuffs over my hands—o \ne by one. Relinquishing my hold of the fabric, permitting it to fall, my hands are quick to the button of my slacks, as I stalk toward her.
“Ollie-” She stammers, resting back on the palms of her hands. A few more steps towards her, she falls silent again—a slight quiver of her elbows as her body defies her.
“Emory… I will never be able to take your pain away,” She brings her legs around, as she leisurely crab crawls away from me. “But… I can show you how you can be in control of it.”
Her body visibly melts before me—her shoulders collapse inward as I maneuver to the side of the bed.
“Allow me to be your Olive branch, for you are my dove.” Grabbing her wrists, I pull her to her knees, placing her hands on my chest. “Whatever pain you feel, let me be your cutting board.” I put my blade in her hand before letting my pants fall to the ground.
My erection springs forward, and her eyes deviate towards it.
“Would my dove like a branch to sit on?” I look down at her, giving her a sly smirk.
“What… about-” her voice is airy and lustful. “My sister?"
“We will cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, take your… frustrations… out on me.” I tilt her head back, forcing her gaze on me.
Slowly reaching up, I grab the tie holding the cloth to my face and pull.
I admire the adoration in her eyes as she searches for a hint to my next move, and I decide she has had enough time, so I end it by crashing my lips into hers, like the Titanic hitting the iceberg—her response is to give in while skating the knife over my skin.
My breathing hitches, for her teasing is inebriating.
Using the tapered end, she stipples it across my scars, stopping on the one just over my heart—she sinks the metal into me.
Vermillion oozes from the cut, but she doesn’t stop there.
“You once told me you knew where my sister was… was that just a power move?” she pushes further, until the guard is flush with my skin. “Or was it the truth?” Searing, delicious pain awakens my body and courses through my veins.
“Yes.” My grunt mixes with laughter, and I answer her in a huff. “The answer is… yes.”
She drives the blade deeper as she twists her wrist 90 degrees to her right. “That… answers nothing, Oliver.” I take her hand in mine, twisting the dagger even more, demonstrating to her that this is… exactly… what I want.
“You give me something,” The words leave my mouth like poisonous venom, its only goal being to disintegrate her plan. “I’ll give you something. Quid pro quo.”
“Oh really?” She cocks an eyebrow. “What do you want?”
A smirk stretches over my face as I lift her, wrapping her legs around my waist, interlocking my lips to hers, as she yanks the knife out.
This is the best fucking foreplay I’ve ever had.
I continue giving her half ass answers, and with each one, the blade enters various parts of my body. An Herbal scent fills the air as I blindly search for the handle to turn the water off. Once all falls quiet, I pull her away from me and stare into her eyes with a newly awakened hunger. “My turn.