Chapter 33 #2
But instead of bringing me to orgasm, he steps in and presses a button on the chair, and the wire holding me down gives.
I practically fall into his arms, boneless, coming undone in so many ways.
He gathers me up and carries me over to the table in front of the barber’s mirror, and sits me on it, my legs straddling his sides.
Lifting his mask, his mouth finds mine, and my hands are all over his scars, submitting every single one to memory. I’m moaning into his mouth when he finally unbuckles his belt, tugs down his trousers, and presses the tip of his solid cock right against my entrance.
Deliberately unrushed, savouring every inch of me, he pushes his full length in. I angle my hips to make it easier, wrapping my legs around him, but he’s long and thick, and it hurts, spreading me so much it burns. When he’s all the way in, so deep, I can’t take any more, he bottoms out.
“You’re doing so fucking well,” he whispers, kissing the part where my neck meets my shoulder.
I cling to him, shaking. “Don’t stop.”
“I’m not, I’m taking it slow, or it’ll hurt more.”
“Then hurt me.”
He chuckles and shoves deeper, making me so full that I moan loudly and claw him to me.
I never knew I could feel so complete as I do now.
When he pulls out, just as slow, I whimper at the loss.
But soon, he’s jacking his hips into me again, stretching me so it’s almost too much.
I hold onto him, gripping him with my legs, chasing the gathering storm between my thighs.
With every thrust of his hips, I gasp. Every ram of his cock into my cervix has me trembling, but it’s not enough, and I have to bite down on his shoulder.
I should care that anyone could look through the window and see us. Or that there’s a headless dead body in the next room. But all I can think about is that I have Troy where I need him, where I’ve been desperate to have him all this time—inside me.
“More,” I actually beg.
He flips me on my front, so that I’m looking in the mirror, his rough hands kneading my ass. His demon mask has slipped back so that all I can see is a monster behind me, and all I can feel is him, large and thick, using me up in every way as he claims my body.
“Christ, you’re tight,” he groans as he drives in.
Then he propels his hips forward with an intense rhythm, his cock dragging so very deep, making me mewl with the pain and pleasure of it. I feel myself squeezing him, sucking him down, making him growl in approval.
“Oh, Troy, I’ve never…oh God.”
He finds my clit, and his thumb, wet from stroking me earlier, teases my asshole between thrusts of his cock.
“You’re taking my cock so well,” he grunts, his demon voice harsh in my ear.
Finally, my whole body shudders, pleasure flooding through me in waves.
All I can do is clutch the cold, wooden table, my bare breasts rubbing into the grain.
My nipples are electric, my thighs coated in my arousal, and my butt tingles every time he thumbs around my tight ring.
He fucks me until I’m moaning his name over and over.
“Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.”
His words send me over the edge.
“I think…I’m coming.”
“Then come all over my cock, filthy little finch.”
And I do, shaking until it rips out of me, like a monsoon I can’t stop.
It’s so different than when I do it myself—this feels wild and uncontrollable, and shameless.
I tighten around him, and he spears me deeper and deeper, impaling me like he might split me in two.
There’s no more pain, only heady pleasure, taking me to places I could never go alone.
Troy tenses too, and then moans, and I feel him come inside me, filling me with his hot release. When he’s spent, and I’m a quivering mess, he tosses off the mask and pulls me to him.
He kisses my throat and then my mouth, slow and teasing, his teeth grazing my lips softly…every touch slicing me until I fall apart.
Later, wrapped in the coat I stole from the hotel, still tasting him on my lips, he walks me to where one of his drivers is waiting with a car.
“I need to finish up here,” he says roughly. “Pete here will take you back. Are you okay to go to the hotel alone? Or do you need me to accompany you?”
It’s the second time he’s not ordered me about. I suppress the urge to check him for a fever. “I can manage.”
“My good girl.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb, and I shiver. “Wear this when you go back inside.” He takes the cap from where I’d stuffed it in my coat pocket and places it on my head.
He stares at me for a long moment, something unreadable crossing his face.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” But he’s still staring. “Just... you look familiar dressed like that. I had a feeling of déjà vu.”
Before I can ask what he means, his warm lips are on mine, his cologne around me like a hug, and then he’s gone, disappearing back down the alley to the barber shop to do God knows what with the body.
I stand there in the rain, touching my lips where he kissed me, trying to make sense of what just happened.
I watched my fiancé kill a man.
And instead of running, I let him fuck away my virginity over a barber’s chair.
What does that make me?
“Lost,” Nell whispers.
“Miss Lovett.” The driver holds the passenger door open, umbrella raised to shield me from the rain. However, it feels a bit late for that now. I climb in.
“Back to the hotel, miss?” The driver settles into the front seat.
“The hotel,” I repeat, glancing back toward the alley to see where Troy had gone as we pull away.
Taking care of things. That’s what he’d said.
What does that mean, exactly? Cleaning up the body?
Hiding evidence? Guilt twists in my stomach.
I feel like a coward, running away. If Darrow did hurt Nell, shouldn’t I stay? Shouldn’t I help him?
“Actually, can we go back and wait for him?”
The driver’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “Mr. Severin said to take you straight back, miss.”
“I know, but...” I twist my hands in my lap. “I think we should wait.”
“Mr. Severin will be some time, miss. It’s better if—“
“I don’t want to leave yet.”
The driver’s eyes soften slightly. “Of course, miss.”
We turn around, and pull over on the other side of the road. Then I sit in the idling car, rain drumming on the roof like restless fingers, to wait. Minutes later, another vehicle pulls up to the alley entrance. It’s black, monstrous, and expensive-looking, the kind of car that Troy would own.
The driver’s door opens, and Mundel gets out, adjusting his cap and raincoat against the rain. Through the streaked window, he starts towards the barbershop, but he stops just shy of the alley entrance, makes a call, and then waits.
When Troy emerges, he’s no longer wearing the demon mask. He’s wearing only his suit jacket and trousers, no shirt. Mundel holds an umbrella over him and offers him a black satchel. Troy takes it, opens it, and drags out a t-shirt and puts it on.
I reach for the door handle and open it slightly. But stop when I hear Mundel’s voice carrying through the misty rain.
“…we’ve found her.”
Troy stills. “Where?”
“…wants to talk…”
Through lip reading, I gather parts of the conversation between them, but then Troy slings the satchel over his shoulder and turns to face Mundel, and the rest is muffled.
I caught the gist of it, though.
Found her.
My chest tightens until I can’t breathe.
Troy turns and sweeps his gaze over the road toward where our car is parked across the road, and our eyes seem to meet. For a second, I think he’s going to come over, going to explain what’s happening, who Mundel has found.
But his gaze sweeps past without a flicker of recognition.
He can’t see me through the tinted windows. That and the lights are off.
Troy thinks I’ve already left.
As Troy gets in the black car, Mundel slides into the driver’s seat, then they pull away, going in the opposite direction from the hotel.
“Miss Lovett?” The driver’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “Shall I take you to your hotel now?”
But my mind is choked with questions.
Found who?
“Where is he going?” I ask the driver; Pete, Troy called him.
“I’m not at liberty to say, miss.” His tone is politely professional. “Should we head back to the hotel?”
But I’m barely listening.
Because I remember…Troy has been looking for someone. For a woman.
And now it seems they’ve found her.
“Then follow him.”
Pete meets my eyes in the mirror. “Miss Lovett. Mr. Severin said—”
“I’m not asking.” My voice is firm now. “Mr. Severin said to take me where I want to go, and I want to follow him.”
I need to know if my sister is alive. If everything I know is a lie. And if Troy has been using me to get to her this whole time.
“If Mr. Severin sees I could lose my job—”
“He won’t.”
Pete’s jaw tightens. But he nods and puts the car in gear.
We follow at a distance, through London’s rain-slicked streets, past closed shops and empty parks.
The black SUV pulls up outside a nondescript building. It looks like an office complex. Or apartments.
Pete pulls up too, in the side street next to the building, close enough that, even with the rain falling, I see Troy get out of the car while Mundel goes up to the front entrance and disappears inside. A few moments later, Mundel appears, holding an umbrella over someone.
Then I see her, with Mundel, walking towards the car.
Even in the rain, her light brown hair catches the streetlight as she moves toward Troy.
From behind, she could be—
No.
She stops and says something I can’t hear.
Troy responds, his posture suddenly tense.
Then he moves toward her without hesitation, and she embraces him, neither one caring about getting wet.
Troy’s stiff at first, but even from here, in the rain and the dark, I can see the familiarity between them.
Then he relaxes, shakes his head, and holds her tighter.
Finally, he takes her arm and helps her to the car.
They disappear inside together.
“Miss Lovett?” Pete clears his throat. “Shall we head back?”
“Take me to the hotel.” My voice sounds distant in my ears. “Now.”