Chapter 27 – May 30, 1994 – Erich
Her perfume was citrusy. Crisp. It was all I could smell when I kissed the pulse at her neck.
It was the way her eyes glassed over when my lips traveled down her collarbone to her sternum, how her silky black waterfall curls framed her face and covered the pillow beneath her.
The way her pouty lips and the tops of her cheeks were naturally red in comparison to her fair skin, and the constellations of freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks.
And I had known for months… I told myself from the beginning I wouldn’t cave. If I was dumb enough to let my dick make decisions, I’d have one foot in the grave. I would commit heinous crimes in her name if she let me.
I knew if I gave in, I would be whipped. And I had made it so far letting my conscience do the reasoning. She deserved someone who could give her a safe, happy life. And all I could provide, in the long run, was cheap thrills, a warm body most nights, and the option to commit murder and arson.
I could always leave the next day so she had the chance…
but did I really want to? The way she tried to muffle her sniffles and tears as she asked me if I would leave her, wearing nothing but that stupid argyle sweater I bought to keep her warm in the blistering Northwoods of Wisconsin?
It broke me. All reasoning went out the window. Every warning I gave myself evaporated.
Was I worthy of her smile? Her affection—or even her love?
She wouldn’t love me if she knew I stabbed my mom’s boyfriend in the leg when I was seven.
Or how my last foster mother called me the Antichrist. She definitely wouldn’t like the fact that I helped Olivia cover up ten murders across the country because I thought I was in love the first time.
Bodies of old men rolled into ditches or swamps, some run over with my car for good measure.
She would absolutely hate how Olivia and I got high as fuck on the fourth man’s weed before she took a sewing needle and a pen and tattooed an upside-down cross above my hipbone, then had me do the same on her ass.
Yeah. Camille would be pissed about the matching tattoos. Maybe more so than the murders. I hoped she would never see Olivia’s ass and put that together.
And with all those thoughts running through my head… I wasn’t sure our night together wasn’t a fever dream until I woke up the next morning, naked and holding her in bed.
She was a literal goddess. I was even more convinced of it when her sleepy, shallow breathing brushed my chest, causing her shoulders to rise and fall softly.
Her hands were clasped gently beneath her chin, close enough that the touch was agonizing.
Her lips were parted, and her hair covered her bare shoulders.
Her eyelashes were long and dark… She was beautiful.
I didn’t dare wake her, even as intrusive thoughts tempted me to squeeze her hard enough to leave bruises. Not because I wanted to hurt her… but because I wanted the world to know she belonged to me.
Sickening. Selfish. Greedy. I wanted to mark her with bite marks. I wanted to be all over her. I didn’t want her to leave that house until she begged and whimpered my name. I didn’t want her to be touched by anyone else, but I knew she deserved better.
And that’s why I kept putting cash away but never leaving like I said I should.
I’d been holding her all night. I didn’t want to let go because I was afraid she’d read my mind and realize how damaged I was. She was doomed for disappointment when she learned just how depraved I was for her, but how little I could give her the future she wanted.
She twitched in my arms, and my heart leaped from my chest. Her hooded eyes opened dreamily as she drew in fresh air mingled with our combined scents, and her quiet, sleepy mumble sent all the blood in my body straight to my dick.
I briefly considered letting her go and escaping before she could be disgusted with me, but she surprised me with a dazed smile as her arms wrapped around my neck and pulled me closer.
Her right leg slid over mine, and she pressed herself against my naked body.
She was half asleep. She didn’t know what she was doing. Her breath came out in a whimper as she ground her hips against me, and I was left to close my eyes and think of dead puppies before I crossed a line.
I’d never take anything from her. I would sooner tie myself to these bedposts and let her give me commands. I’d cuck myself for eternity so long as she knew everything we did was her choice.
My mind raced as I tried to talk myself down, only to be interrupted by the way she bit her bottom lip and shuddered when her clit met my erection.
I pressed my forehead to the top of her head and squeezed my eyes shut to keep myself in line.
My arms wrapped so tightly around her waist that I had a brief fear I might hurt her, and her fingers tensed at the back of my neck.
“Erich.” She whispered into my chest, and every nerve in my body came alive.
“Hm?” Her hair smelled like strawberries. An awfully ineffective distraction from what she was doing with her hips.
“Making sure you’re awake.” She giggled against me before pulling her hips back enough for leverage and slowly impaling herself on me.
I could feel her heart pounding against mine, but it was second to how wet she was as she took me. My hands moved to her ass as I held her against me, burying myself in her. I chuckled into her hair as I tried to think of how to keep from finishing too early. “You never need to wait on me.”
She moved her hips up and down as she rode me, pausing every time I filled her. Her cheeks warmed against me, and I ached to see her flushed face as she pleasured herself. I wanted to lose myself in those light green eyes like the night before.
I kissed the top of her head before rolling onto my back, taking her with me.
She arched her back as she steadied herself, her bent legs bracketing mine, her hands resting on my chest. She sucked in her lips before releasing a shaky breath, then leaned down so her face hovered over mine, brushing a soft kiss to my chin.
Her parted lips lingered there, her breathy whimper nearly stopping my heart.
I cupped her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing her cheekbones. Her hands rose to meet mine as she gently bounced on top of me. I was hypnotized by the way her eyelids fluttered as she let out a long, beautiful moan before guiding my thumb into her mouth, nibbling it softly.
I closed my eyes as my head fell back against the pillow. “You’re intoxicating,” I murmured, already doubting I could last much longer beneath her.
Her smile around my thumb made my heart stutter, and I had the fleeting thought she’d need to perform CPR on me when she was done. As much as I wanted it to last, I needed her to stop teasing before I lost control.
My other hand slid from her face to her clit, my thumb circling slowly. She gasped, tightening around me. With my other thumb still in her mouth, she bit down a little harder before releasing it, arching her back further as her legs weakened.
Camille leaned down, her hazy eyes meeting mine briefly before I drew out her orgasm.
She squeezed her eyes shut, her upper lip twitching as the breath left her lungs in a sharp cry.
She trembled against me, and for a second I considered flipping her onto her back so I could bite her neck like the feral, obsessed lunatic I was.
Her breathing came fast and uneven, like she’d run a marathon, but she gathered herself enough to press soft kisses along my jaw and down to my neck as she kept moving against me. I could feel her breasts brushing my chest. She ended me with a needy whisper against my collarbone.
“Please, Erich.”
My hands gripped her waist just in time before my breath caught in my throat. I knew I was holding her hard enough to leave marks. I groaned in her ear as she gasped.
My grip loosened, and her breathy giggle against my collarbone as her hands slid up my chest sent a shiver through me. She didn’t move off me as she crossed her arms and rested on my chest, lifting her head to meet my eyes. Her flushed face and messy hair nearly pushed me over the edge again.
If she begged and whispered my name every time, I was done for. She’d have me kissing the ground she walked on.
And that was the problem I’d tried to avoid for a whole damn year.
“I can’t feel my legs.” Her lips curved into a smile, her eyes like sea glass as they held mine.
I ran my hands through her dark curls, rubbing her back. “You’re setting yourself up for failure if you can’t handle five minutes.” A crooked smirk tugged at my mouth.
“Ugh.” She leaned down to kiss me, quick and soft before pulling away. “Five minutes was the goal.”
I got lost in her gaze again. The flush on her cheeks carried over the bridge of her nose, and beneath it I could see her scattered freckles. I wanted to kiss her again, but I also had the vague thought I probably needed to brush my teeth. And shower.
Camille slid off me, and I reached after her instinctively, wanting her to stay in my bed forever. She shot me a playful grin as she tied her hair up in a pink scrunchie, sunlight from the window revealing the faint red marks my hands had left on her pale skin.
“I need to shower. And brush my teeth.” She echoed my thoughts as I let out a frustrated sigh and dropped my hand back onto the pillow.
My other hand dragged through my hair as I let myself admire her body. It wasn’t helping. My brain was shutting off, handing control over to my hormones.
She left the room, and for a second I thought about stoking the fireplace before the embers died. But I couldn’t think straight. The idea of joining her in the shower won out instantly. Cold spring morning be damned.
I rolled out of bed and followed her.