Chapter 55 Kali
KALI
Imanaged to take three steps before veiny arms encased my midriff.
“Zion,” I squeaked as he lifted me off the floor, spinning us around—
The handle of my half-full cup of raspberry tea slipped out of my hold. The ceramic drew a high arc in the air before smashing into the hallway’s wall.
A sharp crunch joined my gasp, the explosion sending blue shards flying everywhere. Hot liquid darkened the gray paint, dripping down to the floor and forming a thousand tiny puddles Zion ignored as he dragged me back into the kitchen.
Marching past the steel counters and shiny appliances, paying no heed to my grumbles about his bullet wound and the crimson stain blooming on the white gauze, he deposited me in front of a pale wood table under a window.
“Wait here,” he said, and the press of his front against my back vanished.
The cracked tiles chilled my feet, and the cold weaved a spell of goosebumps up my legs. With all the light switches off, the night had laid claim to the room. Wisps of moonlight floated in through the windows, casting a silvery glow that bounced off metal surfaces.
I clutched my elbows. “Everyone can see us like this.”
Despite the late hours, our people roamed the street, the weather welcoming enough to venture out after midnight. Having explored the road a hundred times over, I was well aware of the fact you could see everything occurring on the first floor of any dwelling.
No bottle of bleach could erase the number of bare butts I’d witnessed from the crevices of my memory.
“Exactly.” Zion placed a jar of coconut oil on the table. The clear liquid sparkled in the natural light. “It will make Gedeon go wild.”
I fiddled with the hem of Gedeon’s shirt I was wearing. “But—”
Strolling to stand behind me, Zion yanked my shirt up, and I yelped from the cool sensation.
He tugged the waistband of my underwear. “Fucking panties.”
Before I could react, sharpness trailed up my thigh. Inch my inch, his knife climbed up my hip, scratching, grazing—a threat hanging in the air. My belly twisted, harder and tighter, the slight bouts of ache…pleasant.
I didn’t know why, but the promise of pain would always throw my logic out the window.
The weapon glided down my pelvis, over my panties—
“Spread your legs.” He nudged my ankles, widening my stance. Immobilizing me against him, his arm wrapped around my waist. “Now stay very, very still.”
His knife returned, freezing a path up my inner thigh, and the tip slipped underneath the quickly dampening fabric. Stainless steel ghosted over my slit, barely touching me, and a whimper wrenched itself out of me.
The double-edged blade hooked behind the cotton. My lungs halted their work.
Zion flicked his knife, and the fabric snapped. Two loose strips dangled between my legs, exposing my pussy to the elements. Air attacked the slickness dripping out of me as steadily as my pulse was rising, level after level, aiming to reach the most perilous one.
“Better.” Tossing his knife aside, he pushed on my lower back, bending me over the table, and my pebbled nipples dragged against the wood through my shirt.
The position was something many would call vulnerable, but with Zion or Gedeon, or both, I didn’t feel insecure. Terrified. Or nervous. Unless the tingles raging in my bloodstream could be called anxiety.
A grating clang—a peculiar sound hard to mistake—told me Zion had uncapped the jar—
Liquid pitter-pattered my flesh, dribbling down my ass crack, and I dug my nails into the meat of my palms in preparation of what would come next.
Two fingers slid between my cheeks, pausing to circle my puckered hole, once, twice, thrice—
“Relax.” Zion pushed past the tight ring, inserting one digit up to the first knuckle.
A stuttered breath whooshed out of me. My insides lit up, but the flames didn’t destroy me. Instead of reducing me to ashes, they seeped into my muscles, stretching me out, driving my hips to bump against the edge of the table.
Twinges shot up my nerves as Zion worked a second finger in, then a third, and a fourth, thrusting and massaging without a single pause.
On my elbows, I stared out the window to distract myself from the rising anticipation. Adrenaline had built a nest within me, freezing my tendons and transforming them into twigs so stiff I couldn’t move an increment.
“Please,” I begged. For the torment to end, to continue, to increase or to kill me, I wasn’t sure.
My thoughts had begun to lose their solidity as the heat flooding me bordered on becoming pain.
“I need— Zion—” I blinked away the unexpected tears.
If I didn’t get more right this second, I was going to break down. “Please.”
He withdrew his fingers. “I love it when you sing your prayers.”
Yet they weren’t enough to grant me a break.
Manipulating me like sand, he swiveled me around and sat me onto the table, settling himself between my legs. “Lay down.” Zion tweaked my nipple.
I did as I was told, still too dazed to question his intentions despite the sting. My back crashed onto the hard surface, but I didn’t manage to gather my wits back together before he jerked me to the edge.
“I want to shred your wings.” He fumbled with his jeans, tugging on the zipper, pulling his underwear down enough for his cock to spring free.
The head gleamed in the dimness as he gave himself a few pumps, his expression one of a madman set on ravaging his prey.
“So no matter how hard you beat them, you can’t fly away. ”
Why the hell had his words furled around my wrists like shackles? Phantom restraints forged out of unattainable dreams and dissipating hopes.
I swiped a few strands away from my forehead. “I don’t think I could do it.” Or if I even wanted to.
He seized my thighs. “If you try, I will tether you.” His nails prodded my flesh, undoubtedly creating crescent moon marks. “I will put your collar back on and secure your leash to my wrist so you can’t escape.”
I’d worn the leather collar they’d gifted me only once—during my tattoo celebration—but the way Zion had wielded it while Gedeon had ruined me…
I’d had bruises in the morning. Ones I’d kind of wanted to show off.
Grabbing the jar, Zion scooped up the coconut oil and hastily, messily, spread it up his length. “Spread yourself for me.”
Placing my heels on the table, I grasped my ass cheeks and pulled them apart, baring myself to him. A flush crept up my neck at the view I presented him with, but his responding groan caused a fresh wave of arousal to leak out of my pussy and trickle down to my pleated hole.
“Don’t let go.” He gripped my left ankle, hoisting my leg over his shoulder, and then repeated the action with the other. I dug my fingers into my backside to secure my hold.
Positioning himself at my opening, nudging the tightening muscles, he wrapped an arm around my legs. “I want you to scream.”
I swallowed the dryness in my mouth. But not from fear, no. From the implication of his wish. Any time he mentioned such a goal, I would struggle to walk the following day. “Why?”
“To call Gedeon to us,” he said right as he pushed in.
I squeezed my eyes shut, gasping through the burn as he filled me, bit by bit. His hips fused with the back of my hands, and I let go of my ass, instead seizing the edge of the table.
“To drive him crazy while he talks to Jayla.” Buried inside me to the hilt, Zion paused. “Now scream, pretty birdie, or I will pluck your feathers one by one.” He pinched my inner thigh, and the unexpected sting drew a screech out of me. “Yes,” he hissed.
Grasping my legs, he pulled out, until just the crown of his cock remained swallowed by me.
Some might have called me greedy, but I lifted my hips, chasing the sensation of him invading my body.
He shoved himself back inside, but as my back bowed, as the slam of his hips rocked through me, a creak of hinges pierced my cries.
A streak of warm light drenched the ivory kitchen tiles in yellow.
Compressing my thighs to keep the backs of them pressed to his abdomen, Zion glanced over his shoulder—
A dark silhouette hovered in the doorway.
Tall. A heap of unruly strands atop his head. One with black, from combat boots to the lines of ink slinking up his forearm.
Gedeon gripped the top of the door frame. “I came to figure out why someone was screaming, but it seems you are the ones doing the coming.”
“The door…” I scanned the dimly lit hallway behind him. No shadows danced on the wall, but it could change any minute. “Anyone can walk in.”
“Good.” Gedeon leaned forward, and his t-shirt lifted above his faded jeans, revealing a sliver of darker skin and a hint of the tattoos creeping up his sides. “They can see with their own eyes whose marks you both will bear tomorrow.”
Zion’s grunt served as the sole warning before his hold on my limbs turned crushing. “She clenched.”
Dimness hid my blush. Hearing them say something along the lines of hunting me, tying me, or branding me always made everything inside me flutter.
“I would worry if she had not. Our girl enjoys being claimed.” Gedeon strode into the kitchen, his pace unhurried, leisurely—menacing. “Don’t you, Kali?”
“I do not.” My protest floated out of me, together with a gush of arousal. Warm fluid trickled down to my crease, right to where Zion and I were joined.
“Zion. Be a good boy and fuck that nonsense out of her.” Gedeon’s voice lowered to such severeness it struck me like his belt, the memory alone sufficient to feel the fire licking my backside.
“I said, continue.” He yanked a chair from underneath our table, twisted it around, and straddled the wood.
Resting his forearms on the backrest, he warned, “But only one of you is allowed to finish.”
I squeezed around Zion.
To draw my mind away from him stuffing me, I clutched the edge of the table harder and harder, until I could swear no blood reached my numb fingers. “What did he mean?” I whispered to Zion.
His throat bobbed. Eyebrows furrowed. But then they returned to their original placement. And a grin puffed out his high cheekbones.
Widening his legs, he hauled me even closer to him. “Hold on.”
My shoulder blades yelled from pressing against a hard surface for a prolonged period. “What— Wait— What?”
“He will not repeat himself.” Gedeon rubbed his bottom lip. “So I suggest you do as you’re told.”
Zion splayed a palm across my pelvis, and his thumb pressed on my clit. I jerked at the sudden shot of pleasure. It singed a path to my toes, curling them. Slowly, he circled the bundle of nerves, and a breath lodged in my lungs.
As he rocked out of me, emptying me, I whined from the loss—
My breasts bounced from the impact as he rammed back into me, my entire body rippling.
His finger glided lower, gathering my wetness and bringing it back to my clit. Settling on a rhythm matching the pace of his thrusts, he brushed around the sensitive bit of flesh, his strokes light, too light for me to crash.
The teasing drove me to the verge of insanity. I needed more, just a bit of roughness, for him to caress my clit directly, to jolt my nerves into making the necessary connections, to—
“Zion.” I moaned his name in a plea.
But he didn’t respond.
Focusing through the sheen of tears, I made out Gedeon’s form. He was observing me with a smirk as casual as any other day.
Only him shifting in his seat spilled the secret of how affected he was.
If anyone knew torture as intimately as a human could, it was these two. An unhinged demon pounding into me with a calculated tempo, balancing me on the precipice, and an arrogant god delighting in my torment.
“I accept your choice.” Rising from his seat, Gedeon shoved the chair aside. “Make her come.”
Zion’s thumb slipped right over my clit, again and again, the pace of his thrusts unforgiving. The tension low in my belly swelled, the cries in my vocal cords died down, and the night prowled closer, like a fog about to smother you, to snatch you away, to—
It consumed me.
My back arched off the table, my spine so taut it verged on fracturing—
The darkness ruling in the kitchen found its way into me.