Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
HIM
W ind whistles through the trees as I enter Grand Pointe Apartments. A shiver of anticipation crawls up my spine; I can feel the change in the atmosphere as a storm approaches. But that isn’t the only reason I’m excited tonight. Underneath the bushels of dark clouds, lightning and thunder roar in the distance, with heavy rain on its heels.
The perfect backdrop for this evening’s events.
I take the stairs two at a time as I make my way up to the second floor. The hallways smell damp, with an underlying scent of lemon cleaning solution. I wrinkle my nose; the janitor finished his duties, so at least there won’t be any interference. When I reach my destination—apartment five—I press my ear against the wood.
After making sure Gwen’s asleep, I take the copy of the key I made from my pocket and insert it into the lock. The door clicks open and I slip inside, closing it with a soft thud. The living room is dark aside from the streaks of lightning that intermittently light up the sky. Carefully, I cross the room, trying to keep my footsteps silent.
I stand in front of her bedroom, taking in Gwen’s sleeping form. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, and I deduce it must be the sleeping pills. I smirk, knowing it will make what I want to do even easier. My Little Finch is so vulnerable. She has no idea what’s about to happen. But if that night at the shop is any indication of her feelings, I’m sure she won’t mind.
I’ll have her screaming and begging for me before the night is through.
She’s curled up on her side, snoring softly, looking so angelic. It almost makes me feel guilty for what I’m about to do. Almost .
Thick droplets pelt against the glass of the nearby window as I slink under the covers, making sure not to disturb her slumber. With my front to her back, I maneuver my arm underneath her neck, placing my knife to her delicate throat—for insurance—and reach to grasp a heavy tit with my other hand. I squeeze her full breast, biting my lip to keep myself from moaning out. She stirs as I pinch her nipple, twisting the bud through her thin tank top as I grind against her plush ass.
Slowly, she opens her eyes—and inhales sharply as she realizes what’s going on. “It’s you,” she breathes, her voice laced with fear and confusion. Her throat bobs as she swallows carefully, likely very aware of the blade that could easily slash her and end her life.
“Miss me, Little Finch?” I say, tracing a gloved finger down her abdomen before settling between her thighs and pressing my groin harder into her backside. “You should have known I wouldn’t stay gone for long.” I smile as a shudder wracks her body.
A loud crack of thunder booms—and in one swift motion, she leans back to smash her head against mine and rolls out of my grasp to scramble off the bed before I can react. I feel blood trickle from my nose behind the mask, and I glare at her with a mix of surprise and anger. Crazy fucking bitch , I think. She risked getting her throat cut just to escape me .
I think I may truly be in love after all.
“ You ,” she says sternly, her voice hoarse with emotion. She keeps a close eye on me as she backs toward her dresser, snatching a bronze paperweight from it as a makeshift weapon. “Get out, or I swear to God, I’ll make it so neither of us walks away from here alive.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I admire the scorched earth approach, but there’s no way I’m leaving without what I came for.” Our gazes lock as I leap from the bed. “If you won’t give it to me, then I’ll just have to take it.” My grip tightens on the knife. “Now it’s time to finish what we started.”
Dodging to the side as I lunge, she sweeps her hand forward with the paperweight in a desperate arc. The hit is weaker than expected, stinging but not slowing me down. She runs past me and out into the living room, with me hot on her heels.
As she scoops up a candle holder and launches it at me with surprising force, I evade it and spring toward her. Ignoring her cries of frustration, I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her off the ground as if she weighs nothing. A shriek tears from her throat as she thrashes in my grasp, but the thunder smothers her protests.
But I can’t risk someone alerting the authorities. I squeeze her, forcing air from her lungs so her cries are stifled, and carry her to the bedroom. I throw her on the bed, and she makes another escape attempt—but I dig my fingers into her ankles and yank her closer, back toward the edge of the mattress. She yelps as I flip her over like a rag doll onto her back.
Inhaling raggedly, she stares up in horror at me before trying to slip away again. Exasperation fills me as I snatch her ankles once more and hold her down. She tries to scream as I straddle her hips, pinning her hands above her head.
“I know you’re excited, but could you please lower your voice?” I lean down, my mask inches from her face. “We don’t want to attract any … unwanted attention.”
“Please, why me? Why do you want me, of all people?” she demands, her eyes flashing with indignation in time with a strike of lightning.
“It’s simple, Gwen.” I drag my blade across her cheek, drawing a thin line of blood, causing her breath to hitch. “Because if I can’t have you, no one can.”
“Fuck you,” she spits, her gorgeous face contorting into a scowl.
Her defiance, even in the face of danger, brings a smile to my face. Moving the blade to her neck, I use the flat side of it to lift her chin, allowing its deadly edge to linger mere centimeters from her flesh. “Come on. You know I’d never hurt you. Much.”
“Then what do you want from me?” she asks, failing to keep the quaver from her voice.
“What else?” I reply, using the hand I clutch the knife with to trace a finger along her jaw. “I want to make you scream for me.” Her eyes widen as the realization sinks in. “Get up, on your knees on the floor.” I relinquish my hold on her as she obeys. She’s below me, staring up at me, her eyes alight with fiery resentment, as she awaits my next command.
“Such a pretty mouth,” I remark, pressing my fingertips into her cheeks to make her lips purse. “I wanna see how good it feels.” I unzip my pants and pull out my cock, thick from arousal. “So do me a favor and open up, will you?”
She attempts to slap my hand away. But I catch her wrist and squeeze hard enough to make her let out a pained whimper, a warning against defying me.
“I won’t be asking you nicely again. Now open the fuck up.” My pulse quickens as she complies, her eyes narrowing into slits as she silently accepts her fate. “Let me show you how to use that mouth properly, hm?”
She watches as precum oozes from my slit before her gaze meets mine behind the mask. Impatiently, I tangle my fingers in her hair and pull her forward, my cock pushing past her lips and into the fervent embrace of her mouth. I moan, thrusting my hips and shoving deep until I hit the back of her throat. She nearly chokes as I fuck her throat, her eyes welling up with tears.
“Use your hand, baby,” I grunt, even though I know I won’t last long like this.
Hesitantly, she grasps my girth and slides her hand down in tandem with her mouth. She gags as I fuck her feverishly, snapping my hips and driving myself into her warm mouth. The sight of her lips stretched around me almost makes me lose it. Her chest blooms red, flush from pleasure as she blows me. She squeezes her thighs together and groans around my cock as I mutter a litany of vulgarity under my breath. Spittle runs down the corners of her mouth and chin, her tongue swirling around my girth as best she can.
I feel a sick thrill knowing that Gwen is mine to do with as I please. As much as I want to make her wear my cum, I have something else in mind—a much sweeter hole. I grunt and withdraw until only my head rests on her tongue. “Take off your shorts and get on the bed,” I order, pushing the point of my blade just beneath her chin. “On your knees, ass out.”
She darts her tongue out and licks the head of my cock, drawing it briefly into her mouth, before she stands. After shimmying off her shorts, she returns to the bed and only breaks eye contact when she gets into position.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she’s actually enjoying this.
Not that she’d admit it out loud.
Her pussy glistens in the moonlight, and I lick my lips, recalling just how sweet she tasted in the park. She cranes her neck to look at me, but I shake my head. “Keep your eyes on the wall.”
She nods. “Whatever you say,” she mutters.
I get on the bed behind her and run a finger down her slit. “Wet for me already again?” She says nothing, just grips the blanket with white knuckles. “Not much of a talker tonight? That’s fine.” I dig out a condom from my pocket and tear open the foil. “I guarantee you won’t be silent for long.”
She steals a glimpse over her shoulder as I roll on protection. “Why wear that? I’m on birth control.”
“I know that. Saw the packets in your bathroom.” I chuckle, lining myself up with her, moving her thong aside. Even though I long to fuck her without a condom and feel her sweet, silky heat, I can’t risk leaving my DNA behind—not until I know I can fully trust her. “Can’t leave evidence, Little Finch. Also, you need to prove to me I can trust you. So if you want me to fill your womb …” She whines as I brush my tip against her slit, running it along it before pressing myself into her folds ever so slightly. “I have to trust you implicitly.”
I cut off her retort as I push inside an inch. She moans from the stretch, and I grip her hips, reopening her wounds from the park as I slide in further. Fuck, she’s so tight! I grant her little time to adjust as I drive to the hilt. She cries out as I begin to fuck her, her breasts swaying from the movement.
“Hold up your shirt,” I growl. “Let me see those tits bounce.” She pulls up her tank top, and I watch her perfect boobs move as I thrust. Every push of my hips sends me closer to oblivion, and I grab her thighs harder as I pound into her. “So fucking gorgeous … So fucking tight.”
She rocks back into me. “Yes, yes … Oh my God …”
I snatch a handful of her hair around my fist and tug. Hard. She groans, her pussy clenching down on me as I pull her head back. I suck my teeth and try not to lose my shit as she rocks back into me, impaling herself and encouraging me to go deeper. Sliding my hand between us, I flick and toy with her sensitive clit. A cry croaks from her throat from the dual assault.
“Fuck,” she whines, moaning louder with every passing second. “Please, harder!”
“You want me to fuck you harder, huh?” I say, knotting my fist in her hair. “Such a slut. You’ve been dying to be fucked like this—by a killer?”
Her movement stutters like my admission catches her off guard.
“You want a killer to fill up your hole? Make you his slut?” My thrusts become more violent, her ass shaking as I slam into her. “Tell me, Gwen. Tell me you’re a slut.”
She moans, falling back into our rhythm. “Oh, God. Yes!”
“Tell me you’re a slut!”
“Fuck, yes! I’m a slut!”
“ Whose ?” I bark, smacking her ass, making her yelp in surprise.
“Yours!” she cries, tears flowing down her cheeks. “I’m your slut!”
“Good girl.”
The sounds of pleasure and skin slapping echoes off the walls. My thrusts start to become erratic, my control slipping from my grasp with every snap of my hips. I slap her ass, and she gasps from the sharp sting, her back arching.
“Fuck me,” she groans. “Fuck me! Yes! Please, don’t stop!”
I grab her throat and drill into her. Legs shaking, she squeezes her eyes shut, the bed creaking and smacking into the wall as I fuck her like my life depends on it.
“I’m c-c-close!” she chokes out.
“Come on your killer’s cock, baby!”
My words are bookended by a brutal thrust. She chants her curses like a mantra, like a fucked up prayer, before she throws her head back in bliss and screams as her climax floods her. My body tenses up as I continue to rail her through it—before my orgasm tears through me. I moan, releasing into the condom.
One day, I’ll fill up my Little Finch’s cunt to bursting.
As she collapses, her body quakes with the aftershocks of ecstasy, her limbs turning into jelly. I slowly withdraw and pinch the end of the condom, tying it off before slipping it into my pocket for safekeeping. Then, I take a few moments to admire her thoroughly fucked hole.
“Holy shit,” she murmurs. “That was amazing.”
A foreign wave of tenderness sweeps through me. I have the impulse to nuzzle into the crook of her neck, planting kisses all over her body before falling asleep in each other’s arms. Geez, since when have I become such a sap? I shake the thought off and stand up, tucking myself away.
I’m about to leave when Gwen asks, “What can I do to prove to you I’m trustworthy?”
“I will contact you when it’s time,” I reply, chuckling in amusement. “Sleep well, Little Finch.”
I leave her apartment before she can say anything else. Should I worry about her end game? Probably. But I want to give her a chance in some form. I’ll just have to figure out what that is. And as I quietly ascend the stairs, that chance might just have volunteered itself on a silver platter.
A dark shadow appears in my peripheral. I pause in the stairwell, unsure whether to wait until they’re gone or make a run for it; I can’t afford anyone connecting Blake to my real identity. Against my better judgment, I peer around the corner to get a look at who it is. I can make out dark clothing and a hood pulled up over their head, as if they’ve been lurking in the hall. Probably up to no good. He cranes his neck in my direction and I clench my fists.
It’s Gwen’s goddamn stalker!
The mask he wears is a crude, sloppy caricature of my own—of Cameron’s . Rage simmers within me as I round the corner, my knife at the ready. “Just who the fuck do you think you are?”
“N-no one!” he stammers out through a voice changer before turning and bolting.
Lightning streaks across the sky as I give chase. I’m faster than him, but he seems to know the building. Thunder shakes the ground as he bursts through the front entrance and sprints toward the street. Before he can make it, I close the gap and tackle him to the ground. The wind beats against my hoodie as he struggles for control, the rain pounding down on both of us as I straddle him.
I smash my fists into his skull, over and over again as my anger boils over. “Who the fuck are you?!”
Overwhelmed by pain and shock, he cannot reply. Soon, he stops thrashing and goes limp beneath me. I grasp his mask and wrench it off. Lightning illuminates the sky, casting light on his face—one I recognize.
“Son of a bitch,” I growl as Colton’s bloodied and bruised mug stares back at me.