Chapter 53
My equilibrium shifts when Stone picks me up in his arms. Dazed, I realized he’s carrying me through the woods to where I don’t know, and my brain can’t focus enough to care.
The blindfold still covers my eyes, and my wrists still have the zip ties attached.
I have no idea what time it is, but it must still be late.
Stone’s steps don’t falter, steady and sure.
He holds me to his chest, and I have no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck.
He knows where he’s going, not stopping and pausing the way I did.
I don’t know what to think, much less say, about what just happened, about what I did.
What I allowed him to do. All the words that I should say remain silent, stuck in my throat.
I’ve never had sex like that. Sex that was more than just penis into vagina.
Penis into mouth. The sex was so all-consuming that I couldn’t think of anything.
I wasn’t wondering when it would be over like I did with Reed.
I wasn’t wishing for more, as I had with the two other men before.
The things he did are seared in my brain.
I tuck my face into his neck, breathing in the scent of his body.
The sweat. The elusive licorice smell that’s his smoke.
That and the sweet tart taste of his mouth.
Cherries. It was what I recognized the moment he kissed me.
My brain and body reacted to that smell, so attuned to him.
I could have told him I knew who he was, but something stopped me, something dark inside me wanted him to fuck me against that tree. To make me feel out of control. At that moment, I would do anything he said, and I felt more alive than ever before. Alive in a forest filled with death.
When we stop, and I tense, wondering where we are.
It’s not as humid as the forest. The air smells cleaner, fresher.
He pulls off my blindfold. Everything is blurry, and my eyes take a moment to adjust. I look to see not the thick canopy of leaves and branches that were a part of the skyline before, when I was walking in the woods.
Now I see a vast expanse of sky with bright stars starting to pepper the sky.
I look around and see that we are in a clearing.
I spot the soft orange glow of something, and I look, shocked to see an expansive log cabin nestled in a clearing, surrounded by tall pines.
Gas lamps flicker on either side of the massive wooden double doors.
He walks towards the cabin, and as soon as he gets close, a lock clicks open, and he walks through into a dark entryway.
“Lights.”
The room is suddenly awash with illumination from two wall scones lighting the way. I try to look around, but I don’t have much of a chance because minutes later, we walk into a bathroom and Stone sets me down and leans heavily on him, exhaustion in every limb.
I take a peek at him, blinking to focus my eyes.
His face is coated in dark green and black paint.
The mask he wore before is gone. He looks just as deadly as before, but I’m not afraid.
Not anymore. I like it and I want more of it.
We just fucked like animals a few minutes ago, and I want him again.
I want that roughness; the complete ruin he offered me.
He quickly divests me of my ripped and tattered clothing, pulling them down my arms and then tearing away at my pants and yanking off my shoes until I’m standing naked in front of him, battered and bruised, not sure what the fuck I’m doing here.
I look down, shocked to see that my chest is covered in drying blood and dirt.
Mud covers my breasts and stomach. I frown at blood between my legs. It’s smeared on my pussy and thighs.
“Can you stay upright?”
I look up at him and brush the hunk of hair that came loose from my braid and is hanging in my eyes, behind my ears. His face is expressionless, and I nod. He’s worried I won’t be able to stand. I’m afraid too. My legs are shaking so badly.
He grunts before taking off his gun and holster and placing them on the toilet seat. The black metal looks innocent now, but before, when it was pressed to my head, my blood was ice, anticipating the second my life would end.
Next is his knife, and I shiver. The handle and blade are covered in blood.
My blood. It was inside my pussy. My ass.
I came like a deranged person on the handle of his knife.
And I want him to do it again. I want him to push it deep inside me while he bites my nipples and whispers in my ear, encouraging me, telling me how filthy I am. Jesus. Something is wrong with me.
Stone strips his pants and shoes quickly, and I can’t help but stare at his cock now.
He’s hard again, the thick shaft rising up and out.
It was also inside me. Stretching me to the point of pain.
Before, when we were having sex, I could only feel it, but seeing it up close, I’m fascinated.
It’s completely tattooed. Dark, thick lines and patterns cover the entire length and width.
His piercings cover the underside. A set of parallel lines made up of tiny balls.
There is also a long line of rings going up the line of his scrotum.
I’ve seen penises all through medical school, and nothing compares to what I’m seeing now.
The silver hoop right under the tip of his cock glints in the bathroom light.
I felt every single piece of those metal embellishments when he was thrusting inside me.
Standing naked in front of me, I don’t protest when he turns me around and picks up my long braid. I turn and look back at him. “I can do it,” I murmur, attempting to remove my braid, but he doesn’t budge.
“No.”
I drop my hands and face away again. I don’t have the mental wherewithal to fight him.
He slowly, calmly unravels my hair until it hangs in crimped waves along my back.
The braid was heavy. I feel some of the tension leave my scalp and neck.
I yelp when he swings me up into his arms and steps into the shower with me, setting me on my feet.
He turns on the shower. Warm water falls from the large shower head above us.
It hits the top of my head and shoulders.
I lean into him, resting on his chest, like a puppet ready to be manipulated.
The water heats up, and soon steam rises, cocooning us.
He adjusts the shower-head, aiming it at my back, and pulls me closer, tilting my chin up and turning my face from left to right. A washcloth appears in front of my face, and I study him as he wipes my face and chin. He moves the terry cloth gently up to my forehead.
“Close your eyes.” His voice is deep, coaxing. Sexy.
I close my eyes, and he continues to move the fabric up and down, over my eyelids, collecting what must be mud and debris.
The cloth dabs at my puffy lip that I hit when he tackled me.
It stings, and when he touches it with his tongue, I open my eyes and tremble when he glides his tongue over my injury.
He pulls back, and I pull my lower lip in, tracing the spot he just touched with my tongue.
Stone’s nostrils flare while he stares at my mouth.
He reaches behind me and picks up a bar of soap from the cutout, rubbing it slowly on the cloth, creating a delicious-smelling lather.
Something fresh and clean. He smooths the washcloth along my arms. Then he moves gradually on my chest, touching the wounds.
I flinch when he touches the cut on my chest. It’s deeper than the others.
The blood coagulated earlier, but as he runs the cloth along the cut, I feel the moment the wound re-opens and blood flows down, mixing with water.
Pink flows down the drain. Stone leans forward and kisses the newly reopened skin, running his tongue along it.
He’s tasting my blood, and it should gross me out, but there’s something insanely erotic about it.
He continues to lick up my neck, lapping at the cut and then moving that eager tongue back down.
He lifts his head and cradles my breast in his hands, stroking my nipple with his thumb.
Coils of desire inside me when he washes my other breast. The water washes the suds away, and his warm mouth wraps the nipple, sucking vigorously. I hold onto his bicep and stand on my tiptoes, unwittingly imploring him to take more, give me more.
“Open your legs.”
The words startle me from my focus on the pleasure from his mouth. Automatically, my legs open. He pulls back and slides the washcloth down to my pussy, washing it. I look down and watch as he washes away all the dirt and blood, using a cloth-covered finger to wash inside my pussy.
Suddenly, I realize that his bare, his uncovered dick was inside me earlier. In the forest, I was shameless, savage for him to fuck me, but now in the shower with the water cleaning my body, reality re-inserts itself, settling in my brain. We didn’t use protection. “We didn’t use a condom.”
He doesn’t pause his movements, but looks in my face, raising an eyebrow. There’s humor in those dark depths. “And?”
“And?” I don’t know how to take his humor. Especially while his washcloth-covered finger was leisurely cleaning my pussy. “I—We—”
“I don’t have anything.”
It’s a relief, but if I’m honest, I didn’t think he did. I’ve come to realize there’s an inner core of integrity inside him. He wouldn’t lie, not about that. He’s not like Reed. His fingers slow down, swirling slowly around my clit. The texture of terry cloth feels good against my sensitive skin.
“Me either. I’m on birth control.”
“I know.”
His answer leaves me dumbfounded for a moment. “How do you—”