BONUS SCENE
DAMON
Fight club night usually pulls out my competitive side, so it pains me greatly that I let Jasper beat my ass. He may be a hell of a lot bigger than me, but I know his Achilles heel—a good old fashioned nipple twister. And what’s the fun in having a best friend and not exploiting his weaknesses in the name of game night? Lucky for him, tonight I have other plans. Plans that involve Blake and a certain glove. He can thank Blake later for keeping his nipples safe.
While Blake’s occupied watching Jasper and Leon wrestle, I sneak away to stick my Freddy glove in the freezer. The blades are nothing more than dull metal, so any real cuts won’t happen. The freezer will help with that. I want her to feel the cooling sensation scrape against her skin. To see her pupils dilate with a flash of fear and uncertainty. I’m hard just thinking about it.
We have total trust in each other now, so getting to experience those moments with Blake requires planning ahead. It’ll all be worth it.
Falin crouches beside the guys, yelling at Leon to tap out. “Come on, I’m ready to see dummy here cry like a baby. Tap out.”
“You can try,” Jasper grunts. “But it won’t happen.”
As I creep back into the room, my eyes lock with Blake’s and her lips curve up. Her eyes are lit with a comfortable happiness and her face is flushed from laughing. I join her on the couch, whispering in her ear. “You’re so damn beautiful.”
She leans against me and rests her head on my shoulder. “I still don’t know how to respond to that.”
“You don’t have to say a word, Angel. I just want you to know it.” I tangle my hands into her hair to angle her face toward mine. “Ready for bed?”
“We didn’t watch the movie.” She checks the time on her phone. “And it’s barely 8:00.”
The time of day hasn’t stopped her from sleeping lately. Not since she left school and has been facing her grief head-on. It kills me to see her hurting. To know some days she barely has the energy to leave bed, too pulled down into the deep well of sorrow. The nightmares come frequently too. She screams his name from the recesses of her chest, thrashing from side to side. When I wake her, I hold her trembling body tightly for hours, doing what I can to help. I’d do anything to take her pain away.
I want to make tonight special for her. To act out a little fantasy I know she’s been harboring. She’s mentioned it a time or two recently—me waking her up from a sound sleep, teasing her with the glove. I’ve kept the comments stored away, ready and waiting for the right moment. Here it is. I can’t think of a better night than Halloween. Anticipation has my body almost bouncing but I need to play it cool.
“I set up the DVD player in the bedroom. These three won’t be done for a while and I doubt they care if we watch without them.”
She peeks over at them and shakes her head. “You’re right. It looked like Leon was done but he’s somehow come out on top. Falin’s totally into this, by the way. Seeing her hand Jasper his ass is the only reason I haven’t gone to lay down yet.” She laughs and stretches her arms over head, making her shirt ride up and the portrait tattoo of her mom peek out.
“I’m sure we’ll have another chance soon enough.” Pulling her to a stand, we quietly sneak around them and head upstairs, toward the bedroom we share in our current home.
Blake smiles wide when she takes in the set up of the room. I have the movie started on the menu screen, two hard ciders waiting on ice, and candles lit. It’s the perfect setting to lull her into a nice restful sleep. Just in case it’s not enough though, I slip a mild sleeping pill into her cider when I open it.
I can’t play Freddy with a wide awake Blake. It’s just not the same.
Pressing play on the movie, I pull off my shirt and sit back against the headboard. With my legs wide, I pat the bed, gesturing for Blake to get comfortable. She slides under the blanket, resting her back against my chest. Her hair smells sweet, like vanilla and sugar, and I breathe her in, settling my arms around her chest.
“This is nice,” she croons, stretching out. She slips her cold feet underneath my legs and I flinch. “Sorry, my feet are like ice.”
Chuckling, I press my legs down, giving her the warmth she craves. “They really are. It’s a good thing I run hot.” The familiar A Nightmare on Elm Street music begins while Freddy creates his iconic glove. Blake goes quiet, already sucked into the movie. “Here, drink your cider while it’s cold.”
As I hand her the bottle, she takes a long sip. That’s it, baby. Drink up. With the movie rolling, the candles flickering, and Blake exactly where she belongs, it feels like everything is right in the world. If we could have this every single day, I’d die a happy man.
When the movie’s about halfway through, I slip her hair to the side of her shoulder and gently massage her tight muscles. Her body melts beneath me. “Feel good?”
“Mhm,” she mumbles like she’s on the verge of sleep.
I take my time kneading her scalp, my fingers gliding gently through her hair. As her head lolls to the side, I grab her cider from her limp hand, saving it from spilling the remaining few sips on the sheets. Her breaths are slow and even as I murmur against the top of her head. “Such a good fucking girl, Blake.”
I’m so content with her asleep against my chest that I almost don’t want to get up. But then I think about the glove in the freezer and a jolt of excitement shoots through me, forcing my limbs to move.
Blake’s sleeping form is nothing short of angelic as I adjust her body against the mattress. Testing that she’s truly asleep, I pull her shirt over her head, baring her gorgeous tits. She stirs for a moment before swinging her arm over her eyes and lulling herself back to sleep.
With the end of the movie playing, I pull the blanket over her and silently slip through the door. The house is quiet now, or as quiet as it’s been all day. Faint noises come from the bedroom down the hall, but I don’t listen long enough to take in any details.
Downstairs, Jasper’s alone on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He glances up when he sees me. “Hope you’re having a better night than me.”
“Who pissed in your corn flakes?” I ask, passing him to go into the kitchen. He follows me in and grabs a mini Snickers from the candy bowl Falin set out earlier. “Wait, did Leon actually beat you?”
He huffs, unwraps the candy, and shoves the entire thing in his mouth. Chewing he says, “Fuck no.”
I scrutinize his grumpy expression and it comes to me. “Holy shit. Falin kicked your ass, didn’t she?”
With his mouth already stuffed full of chocolate, he wordlessly grabs a Twizzler. In one fluid motion, he tears open the wrapper and crams the candy into his bulging cheeks, ignoring my question.
“She totally did,” I tease. “Come on, don’t sulk. You may have finally met your match.”
My words seem to perk him up a bit. He finishes chewing and grabs a cider from the fridge. “It was an unfair fight. I’m not going to hit a woman.”
“Who said you have to hit to win?” I ask, egging him on.
“Whatever,” he mumbles and takes a swig of cider. “Where’s Blake? I thought we were going to watch a movie.”
I pull open the freezer door and grab the glove. “Change of plans.”
His eyes widen. “I don’t want to know.”
“You’re right about that.” With pep in my step, I pass Jasper and head back upstairs.
Blake
I hear something unusual but my eyelids are too heavy to lift open. I must be dreaming again. Every night since it happened has been this way. Only now, instead of wanting sleep to pull me under, I fight the urge. That sound—click, click, click. I need to know what it is.
“Damon,” I mumble, barely audible to my own ears. “Turn off the TV please.” My blanket fell off so I reach around searching for it. “Blanket?”
When the sound continues without a response from him, I force my eyes to obey, opening them as much as I can.
The room is pitch-black and blurred at the edges. It’s like there’s a smudged piece of glass over my field of vision. The sound gets closer, matching the rhythm of my pulse.
Beat, beat, beat. Click, click, click.
Something cold and hard scratches against my thigh. It’s not painful, but it grabs my attention. I hiss a breath and call to him while willing my body to sit up. “Damon?”
“Shh, lay back and relax.” His hushed voice calms me until I feel the weight of his body hovering over me and see a glint of metal out of my heavy lids. I realize I’m completely naked and want to ask what he’s up to. A moan escapes my lips before words are able to form.
Differing sensations flood my body. Chilled metal against my warm skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. I feel vulnerable in my groggy state, but I know whatever it is that Damon’s doing, he’d never hurt me.
That doesn’t stop me from wondering if he’s gliding a knife against my thighs. I push up onto my elbows and force my eyes open. Damon’s gaze tracks me with a predatory gleam. I blink when I realize that he’s wearing the Freddy glove. I bought it myself, so I know the blades are dull. How does it feel so realistic?
He grazes the blades up to my chest and across my pebbled nipples. I’m embarrassed to admit to myself that it feels incredible. What would the real thing feel like? Eyes closed, I imagine it’s sharp enough to slice through skin, and my pulse quickens at the thought.
He drags them lower, teasing the top of my pussy. I murmur softly, at a loss for words.
“Spread for me. Let me see your needy cunt take these blades, Blake.” I’m trembling and breathing hard, unsure if fear is keeping me frozen or if it’s anticipation of his next move.
The blades skim through my folds, while he uses his other hand to open my legs. I grip the sheets, biting back a moan as the chilled metal grazes my clit. Spurred by my response, he repeats the action again and again, making me squirm with pleasure. I crave more. Something—anything—to put me out of this sweet agony.
“Fuck, Blake, look how good you’re taking it. You want more?”
I nod, moaning as he sinks his fingers into my pussy, spreading my juices so I’m slick for him. He pumps his fingers deep inside me, while scraping my belly and tits with the glove. I’m wide awake now, chasing my orgasm with insatiable hunger.
He glides the blades lower again and I still my hips, unsure if he’s actually going to do what I think he might.
Slowly I feel him toy with my entrance, pushing the tip of the blade inside me. It’s no longer chilled, but that doesn’t matter. It’s still unlike anything I’ve felt before. “Oh, God,” I whimper. “Yes.”
“Such a good fucking slut, Blake. You want me to fuck you with this glove?” Damon’s voice cracks, like he’s barely holding it together.
My mind whirls, fear taking over again but only for a moment. He won’t hurt me. I nod slowly.
“Stay perfectly still,” he commands. “You move and I stop.”
He’s careful and controlled, gauging my reaction as he inches the blade inside. I’ll admit, as different as it feels, my body begs for more. Not the blade. His skin against mine, his cock deep within me. Keeping my hips still is torture.
He eases it out and goes back to teasing my clit, scraping the tip deliciously against my sensitive flesh. “I want you.”
“You have me,” he says. Even in the darkness I can see the playful smirk across his face.
“You know what I mean,” I groan. Reaching out, I brush my palm over his sweats, feeling his hard length straining against the fabric. He bites back a moan and I grin, giving him a squeeze. “Quit tormenting me, Freddy, and give me what I want.”
“Well, shit, how can I say no to that?” He sits back on his heels. “Turn over for me.”
As groggy as I am, I manage to flip to my stomach. He helps me along by lifting my hips with his free hand. I’m lined up exactly where I want to be, wet and waiting.
With his gloved hand, he skims down my back and over the globes of my ass. Oh, God. It feels even better there. I manage a muffled moan with my face pressed into the pillows.
All at once he smacks my ass with his leather-covered palm while slamming into me, inch by thick inch. I’m overwhelmed by sensations—the ache of stretching to accommodate his size, the delicious throb from where his hand meets my skin. My hazy mind tries to pick one feeling to focus on but it can’t. Not when he pulls out and pounds into me again, twisting the blades into my hair.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet, baby,” he says with a strained voice. He hoists my hips higher, changing the angle, and holy crap I think I’m dying and ascending to another plane. “You take me so well.”
I grind my hips back against him, trying to match his rhythm but I’m struggling in my exhausted state. “Mmm,” I moan into the pillows. I want him to come inside me. Fill me, so I’m dripping with him through the night.
My core clenches, gripping him as he pumps faster, rougher. He pulls my hair with the glove, and I bite back a curse. It stings but feels so good. I start to come, like a wave cresting the pleasure grows until I’m shuddering against him, crying out his name.
“That’s it, baby. Milk my cock.” Damon’s thrusts grow jerky and his grip on my hip tightens. He groans, slowing his movements. “Fuckkk.”
I feel his cock pulse and sputter inside me as he unravels the blades from my hair and slumps against my back. We’re both breathing heavy, but I can’t help but laugh once I regain a bit of brain power.
“Did you really just do that?” This man literally fucked me with a Freddy Kreuger glove and I loved it. Holy shit, I’m screwed in the head.
His laugh is a deep rumble in his throat as he pulls the glove off and tosses it next to us on the bed. We flop over and wrap our arms around each other, panting and giddy. “You weren’t dreaming. It happened and it was hot.”
I think about it for a second, replaying the whole scene. “It really was. I’m a genius for buying you that glove. Now just think what kind of fun we can have with other props.” An image of him in his mask holding rope and a knife plays through my mind. I’m delirious as hell and need to get some sleep.
“Happy Halloween, Angel.” He kisses me sweetly, a direct contrast to what we just did. “Hope you enjoyed your trick and treat.”
Laughing at his cheesiness, I let myself drift off to sleep snuggled against his warm chest.