Chapter 37
Mila
Death reeks; you can smell it from miles away, but you know what smells worse than decay?
Anticipation.
It ’ s a putrid mixture of sweet and sour. Dizzying and confusing.
It draws you in, tempting you, but its overwhelming allure also repulses you.
Anticipation clings to every inch of the school, silences the students and makes even whispers seem like treacherous actions.
Today is The Cleansing.
Today, my broken prince will either be a victor or…no, I can ’ t consider the other options.
I hate days like this, but this Cleansing feels much more dreadful because everyone knows Dash is fighting. The problem is Dash ’ s competition hasn ’ t come forward.
It ’ s bizarre.
The competitors are always known.
I haven ’ t asked Dash who he thinks he will fight. I don ’ t want to stress him. Dante and Cillian have been training with him every spare minute they have. I know it ’ s exhausting Dash. Every time he hits the mattress, he swiftly falls into slumber, making me question how many nights the man who stole my heart has slept, knowing his life may soon end.
Most people would stay awake because of that fact. I ’ m most people. I lay awake, watching the rise and fall of his chest.
It ’ s that exhaustion that has made me refrain from reaching for him, from kissing him awake and tempting him to take me again. I gave him my virginity, but now there has been this distance. As if he is preparing himself for death and the lack of my touch.
I still force myself into his room. We shower, but he doesn ’ t touch me. Instead, it ’ s me who fixes him, washes his body with soap, then dries him.
The roles have truly reversed. I never expected to fall in love with Dash when he approached me in the office.
That day, I learned a lesson. Love is the most dangerous emotion of all. It heals and destroys. It has no preconceived notions associated with it. It sees, and it takes. It wants, and then it claims.
Love is more powerful, more savage, and more destructive than any demon known to man. Love is more powerful than God Himself. After all, if God didn ’ t love the devil, He would just destroy him. But He can ’ t, because deep down, God loves what He created.
Tonight, the man I shared a bed with will be a completely different person. Ultimately, I only had Dash once. There is no telling who he will be after he wins the fight.But I will love him nonetheless.
“ I ’ m coming to The Cleansing,” I blurt out.
Dante ’ s ever-watchful eyes catches a glimpse of me, making me straighten my spine. Cillian ’ s fork freezes in mid-air, his gaze filled with gentle concern, like an older brother I never had, trying to shield me from falling for a doomed soul.
These fucked up men have become my family.
Dash ’ s reply feels like a betrayal. “ No.”
I grab my knife and fork. “ It ’ s not up for discussion,” I assert as I slice into my pancake. I stab a bite, shoving it into my mouth; chewing and swallowing feel robotic. I taste nothing.
I glance at Dash; he looks at Dante, and then Dante nods.
What did that mean?
“ You ’ re a distraction.” Cillian states as he chews.
Resting my elbows on the table, I reply, “ Or a motivation.”
Dante smirks.
Dash ’ s exhale rumbles through my body like an avalanche.
“ I ’ m coming,” I confidently state again.
***
I have the unfortunate experience of realizing a new form of torture.
Time.
It ’ s passed so slowly today that I feel like I ’ ve aged a decade. Finally, night fell, covering up the anticipation. You could almost hear the students ’ audible gasps of relief when the day was done and The Cleansing would begin. We all know it ’ s a bleeding wound; we just want the bandaid ripped off, to get it over with.
“ Let ’ s shower,” I tell Dash as I close his bedroom door. In just two hours, he will be fighting for his life. Not every match in The Cleansing ends in death; statistically, though, many do. Claiming the title of killing a rival and having to face no repercussions is something most men in our world can ’ t pass up.
“ It seems silly to shower when I ’ ll just be filthy,” Dash mutters coldly.
It feels like I ’ m speaking to a shell. I close the distance, grab his shoulders, and turn him. He looks directly over my head. I reach up and grasp his jaw. “ Look at me.” I order him.
Nothing.
“ Look at me,” my bottom lip trembles.
A wave of icy blue clashes into my soul as his eyes finally acknowledge me. “ You never cared how dirty and broken I was. As a matter of fact, it ’ s what attracts you. There is nothing wrong with being attracted to something different, Dash King. I…” my throat closes, it ’ s a struggle to force it open again, “ I love you no matter what. I don ’ t care how dirty our world makes you. I will always be there at the end of the day to wash it all away.”
Pupils dilate, perhaps glaze over with tears that are never shed. “ Liar,” he whispers, low and hoarse. My ribs constrict painfully. It feels like a knife is being slowly plunged into his chest.“You ’ ll run the minute you see an escape.” He almost sounds hopeful. Do you want me to run?
A tear falls from my eyes. “ Maybe you ’ ll run with me.” I reply as my throat closes.
Maybe I won ’ t run. Maybe all I needed was you.I ’ d stay because you have made this life not just bearable but worth living. I don ’ t want to run; I want you to teach me how to walk beside you.
Why can ’ t I tell him that? Something tells me I ’ m going to wish I did.
I grab his hand and interlace our fingers. “ We ’ re going to shower, and then you ’ re going to make love to me, and then tomorrow,” I squeeze his fingers, “ We will do it all again.”
His lip curls up, but it doesn ’ t reach his eyes; it ’ s like my words are a dream he sees, but then it quickly vanishes.
I don ’ t waste time. I want Dash to see that I ’ ll wash away his demons, not just the water. I start kissing him, trying to race against the water covering his skin. He stands there, unmoving at first, as I move my lips over his hard chest, lingering longer over his heart. Opening wide, I press my teeth over it, leaving my mark.
I tilt my head back, but once again, he looks straight ahead at the shower walls. “ This is my heart; it ’ s no longer just yours. It beats for both of us. You will fight to keep it alive.” I press another kiss to it.
His eyes close, and pain fills his brow.
I run my hands down his hips. His body has changed since we started this routine of cleansing each other in a different way than the school offers. His muscles are more contoured, like he ’ s a soldier ready for battle.
His arm reaches out as he grabs me. I purr in response. Thick veins rope around his forearms. I want to push his veins back in, deeper under his skin. I want to protect every inch, both exposed and hidden, of him.
I want to cage him.
“ You ’ re such a pretty little devil.”
“ Then make a deal with me.” I offer, feeling my body start to heat up hotter than the water.
He grins, and his hard cock presses against my core; even the water can ’ t hide the velvet texture of it rubbing against my skin. “ Why would I do that, little fox?” He guides me back, inch by predatory inch. I gasp when my back presses against the wet tiles. I have no patience; I need him inside of me. Now. He knows it too, thus his need to make me suffer and wait.
His hand slithers down my body, fingers advancing between my opening as his eyes turn muddy with dark desires that will soon be awarded. “ I already own every part of you.” He twirls his fingers around my opening, creating a sucking, wet melody that can be heard over the shower. I used to be embarrassed by how my body responded to him, how wet I became. Dash taught me how to be comfortable in my skin. “ You have nothing to offer me because I took it all from you. Willingly.”
Oh no, you don ’ t. “ You can ’ t push me away, Dash; you said it yourself. You took it and claimed it. You own me. We ’ re stuck together now. If you die, I die, so don ’ t bother trying to make me hate you.”
“ You will hate me.” the confession almost gets lost in the water droplets.
I sink onto my knees; it ’ s the only escape I have, bowing in front of a king. “ My king.”
Droplets curl over his high cheekbones, dipping into the shallow contours of his angled face before they drop down, falling onto my round cheeks. “ What did you just say?” His jaw clenches.
“ When we made our deal, you asked me who my king was. I told you I didn ’ t have one.” Gently, I grab his cock; my small hands shake as I begin to stroke it. I find his eyes and then tell him, “ I do now.” I’m loyal to him. My tongue darts out as I lick his length; his thighs shake, and his abs clench, revealing more muscles.
“ Mila,”
I hum and moan as I suck him deep, pulling more and more of him into my mouth, gliding my tongue over his velvety hardness. After a few minutes, I watch as a king shatters. All it takes is a queen bowing down to him. I trusted him, and eventually, he trusted me.
Then he ’ s on his knees pushing me down, so I ’ m lying on the shower floor. He spreads open my thighs; the palms of his hands feel rough and firm as they press into my soft flesh. It's such a turn-on that I begin to arch my back as my toes curl against the wet floor. He holds my legs open and then pushes them wider till my knees press against the floor. "How far can you bend till you break, little fox?" His voice is deep and throaty. He scoots closer, shoving his body between my calves to ensure they can't close but rather are forced to stretch open for him, too.
"Try me." I tug my hips up, doing a full horizontal split for him. Perks of being so flexible.
"Fuck," he hisses as his eyes roam over my lower body.He licks his lips and slides his hands from my thighs to my ass, digging his fingers into me as he lifts me higher. His hot breath fans over my sex till his lips press against my opening, kissing it gently, driving me wild!
“ You like that, little fox?”
“ Please?” I buck my hips. Get your mouth back on my body!
“ Please, what?”
I could drag this out, but I ’ d never survive. My heart is so frantic; I should be responsible and call an ambulance to come to my aid because I know once we are done, he ’ s going to kill a part of me.
“ Please make me scream your name.”I pant as I lock eyes with him.
Snap! He moves, having lost all control as he begins to devour my sex with his mouth.
The tickling sensation of the water pelting me along with his tongue and lips coaxing me to euphoria is… mind-blowing. I wiggle against the floor, but it ’ s so slick it provides no purchase as my body spasms with an orgasm.
My eyelids flutter open, trying to blink away the haze as my lips smile lazily, but then the water stops covering me because Dash is suddenly on top of me, being my shield, sliding his massive cock inside of my swollen wet walls. We don ’ t speak; we can ’ t. All we can do is moan, but then he swallows it, savoring it in his memories.
I do the same. Only the water showering us escapes our hungry lips. It ’ s just us, his hands on my body, his lips over mine, his cock inside of my body. It ’ s slow, then fast, too fast, so he slows down again, trying to stretch this out like a master candy maker pulls taffy: long, slow, heavy, sweet and decadent. Sinful.
Eventually, it all comes to an end. Then, the water washes away our filth and love.
After all, that is the definition of our relationship: filthy love.
We land on his bed, angry, hungry, full of a desperate need. My legs fall open, hips jerk up, seeking him between them. There is an emptiness in my chest when he ’ s not inside of me.
“ Mila,” Dash grabs my face, stilling me on the mattress. His eyes are like a ocean of ever changing currents: fear, hate, longing, desire. It all mixes and clashes in a turbulent flow.
I softly caress his cheek, cupping it. The moment my fingers make contact with his warm skin, he shuts his eyes as if in pain. “ Let me love you.” I whisper.
The left side of his lip tugs up. “ You can show the devil love. That doesn ’ t mean he can reciprocate it. He ’ ll watch. Learn. Trick you into believing what he gives you is love.” His eyes slowly open, mine close to hide my tears. “ It ’ s not love, Mila. It ’ s all a trick, a deception. A lie. I can never love you because there is no place for it in our world. Love is a weakness.”
Don ’ t I know.
“ So be weak with me in the shadows.” I mutter in anger as a tear slips free. “ In this place, you don ’ t need to be the king you are to the world. Behind close doors be weak and let me be your shield.”
He lowers himself and presses his lips against mine. It ’ s a simple kiss full of sorrow. “ When will you stop dreaming and wake up?” He mutters over my greedy mouth.
“ In our world, women shouldn ’ t wake up. It ’ s safer for us to dream. It gives us a place to escape the nightmare of our reality.”
His forehead wrinkles.
It ’ s the truth. Dash and I were born into molds we can ’ t break. Even if I run, I ’ m still running in my twisted world. There was a role for me to fill before I took my first breath.
“ I ’ d change it for you.” There ’ s an unrest in his eyes that makes me wonder what he ’ s thinking.
“ If you could.” I add.
“ If I could.” He sadly mutters.
I nudge my hips up, allowing his cock to slip up and down between my wetness. “ Dream with me then, Dash. Escape.”
In a violent thrust, he ’ s deep inside of me, watching my reaction and how my body sucks him in. Everything about our love is a violent mixture of opposites. Sickness and healing, pain and pleasure, hardness and softness, love and hate, emptiness and addiction.
I see the darkness in his eyes, the self-loathing, the fear, the hate.
I grab his shoulders. “ Stay with me.” I beg him before my lips claim his.
Skin slapping, moans, and the frenzied heartbeats are all that fill the air. We inhale, becoming high off the scents and sounds.
It ’ s only the third time I ’ ve had sex, each being so different. The first time was a desperate need to feel a deeper connection; the second, in the shower, was tender and loving; this…well, it ’ s hard to describe.
It feels like survival—a raw, frantic need to remain with each other, to feel what love is, even though, in the end, everything is working against us.
I feel the mounting tension in my body. It coils so tight I feel like the next beat of my heart might be my last. His hard cock is stroking me so deeply it feels like he ’ s taken over every aspect of my soul. His mouth roams free, tasting, sucking, biting, marking my flesh as his. Fingertips scrape over skin, clawing, trying to get closer.
“ I want to see you shatter. You are at your most beautiful when you are free and don ’ t care what others think.” He presses his forehead to mine. “ Come, little mouse, come on my cock.”
I do. I come so hard he closes his eyes as he moans and joins me.
He collapses on top of me, his chest heaving as he struggles to control himself. He rolls over; I cling to him, not ready to let him go. My fingers grasp his sweaty chest, his pale cheeks are blotted with redness, his neck peppered with marks I left on him.
I grasp his face. He closes his eyes. I know any second, he ’ s going to disappear.
He has to.
The broken prince is too fragile to survive tonight. Only a king is ruthless enough.
“ Fight for me, Dash,” I kiss him, only to be met with unresponsive lips.
He ’ s gone.
He slips from my grip, rolling over in a cold, uncaring motion to the edge of his bed.
“ I don ’ t care what you have to do. Just come back to me.” I sit up. “ I don ’ t want to lose you,” I state as I grab the sheet and hug it to my chest, wishing it were a shield to protect my battered heart.
He stands slowly, every muscle in his body flexing. His strong back widens as he inhales, standing nude and exposed, but instead of looking wounded, he looks like a conqueror.
“ You never really had me.”