Chapter 79
Stone takes my hand, and we walk partway through his woods. It’s shocking to know that beyond the gorgeous views of his cabin, there are the remains of men, rapists, and kidnappers. Forever bound in a cemetery of evil. It’s his own form of justice.
When Stone opens the double doors, I prepare myself to see gore and blood everywhere, but it’s not the case.
It smells sweet like fresh sawdust. It covers the ground.
There is also the scent of pine in the air.
I look along the wall and blink at the collection of knives.
The bear traps. Like the one I saw the day I was lost in the woods.
Tubes hang in neat coils. The brown bottles, which I assume contain chemicals, are lined up on a wall.
I walk over to them, reading their labels.
“What are these for?”
“To remove flesh.” He stands in the doorway. “The chemicals destroy tissue.”
There’s a rack and a stove, a vintage potbelly-looking one.
I wonder if it’s a stove filled with ash from their burned bones.
“You burn them here?” There’s no confirmation except the cold look in his eyes.
I keep moving until I see a huge 70-gallon tank.
I move forward, fascinated, staring at the insects crawling around.
“Are they mealworm beetles?” A half-eaten snake is inside, ribs and skull exposed, the rest still has skin and scales.
The dark brown beetles are moving around it.
“No. Dermestid beetles. They clean carcasses of rotting or dead flesh.”
The subtext is there. He uses them for the men he’s killed. “Will you stop?”
“No”
Stone says it so matter-of-factly. There is minimal gray area when it comes to his complicated man.
“I can’t. Not yet. The leader is still alive, and his reach is wide and far. I’m going to help Onyx kill him.”
“Onyx?”
“Onyx was married to Ivory.”
The horror still makes my stomach churn. “I’m sorry for what happened to your family.”
“I won’t rest until the gang is destroyed. This is the dirty side of me, Camryn.”
He keeps his hands to his sides. He says it, brutally honestly, and I know it’s a test. When he touched my scars and told me how he felt the need to punish the man who hurt me, I could feel the anger inside him.
But despite all the atrocities he’s admitted to, the horrifying tools he’s using to torture those men, I feel safe with him.
Only him. Even now, seeing the number of tally marks on his chest, I want him inside me.
“That’s not all that you are, Stone.” I touch his face and kiss the center of his chest. His skin is warm against my lips.
“Whatever else there is, is dead,” he repeats.
“I don’t believe that. I’ve seen the other side of you. The way you are when you touch me. When you hold me. When you care for me.”
“If I’d stayed away you wouldn’t have been taken.”
“Maybe, maybe not, but I was taken. We can’t change that. We can only move on.” He shudders when I lean forward again and kiss right over Dante’s words. “You’re mine, Stone. I’m not giving you up.”
“I have nothing to offer you that isn’t dead, rotted to the fucking core.”
“I don’t believe that, Stone.”
‘Then you’re a fool.” He laughs mockingly.
It should make me want to run, but I can’t.
The men he killed were worse than animals.
I saw firsthand what they did to children, some as young as 8 or 9 years old.
But despite his torture and mutilation of their bodies, I’m undeterred; I keep going.
I knew this was going to be hard. “I’m asking you to stop running away from me.
I’m asking to be yours. To be with the man that I love. ”
He blows out a breath. “You’re making it hard for me to say no to you.”
I lean up to him and kiss his lips. He grips my hair. “Then don’t say no. Say yes,” I demand.
He holds my face, cradling it in both hands. “I’m not capable of letting you go again if you agree to this, if you agree to take me as I am. You won’t be able to run, Countess. This means I will own you until the end of time. No matter what.”
His mouth finds mine, and I open to him, let him pull me against his hard body, let his tongue invade my mouth.
I’ve missed him, missed the way he makes me feel.
He rips my shirt over my head, but he freezes, holding the bundled fabric in his palm the minute his eyes drop to the chain hanging between my breasts.
“Who does that belong to?”
He grips my hip. His face is tight, and the tendon in his jaw moves rhythmically. I lift the pendant. “This? This is mine.”
He tosses the shirt away, growling before returning those big, calloused hands to my waist. “Yours, huh?”
“Definitely mine.” I grin, smirking.
“I’m going to spend a lot of time disciplining you for lying. Is it mine?”
“It was, but it’s mine now. Just like you’re mine.”
He grips the heavy chain I used to hold the skull ring pendant in his fist and drags me closer, until I’m on my tippy toes, my breasts squashed against his chest, my mouth centimeters away from his lips. “Why do you have it?”
“You left it and I took it. Finders keepers.”
He laughs, nipping my lips. And I wrap my arms around his neck. “Little Klepto.”
“Damn right. Now fuck me.”
He slaps my butt. I’ve missed the burning sting. We walk together to the wall, with me kissing his neck, desperate to feel him inside me again.
Before I can enjoy his kisses, he’s at my feet, looking up at me.
I help him tug down my tights, lifting my foot as he rips them away.
My underwear is next, and seconds later, my thigh is draped over his shoulder.
There are no formalities. No foreplay. I don’t need it.
I’ve been wet for him for weeks. Fuck, since the moment I met him.
His mouth is on my pussy, his tongue flicks my clit, his fingers push inside.
My whole body goes up in flames. I grip his head, looking down at him between my legs, whimpering at his groans and the wet sounds my pussy is making.
“That feels so good, Stone.”
He raises his head, and I touch the wetness on his jaw and chin, bringing it to my mouth, sucking my fingers.
When he pushes my legs wider, I let him.
My clit throbs when he draws it into his mouth.
His fingers go deeper. Two fingers become three, three become four, and I reach down with both hands and offer myself to him, pulling back my pussy lips, wanting to see his fingers inside me.
He lifts his head and looks at my pussy, and then his eyes travel up until they meet mine.
“It’s yours. Take it,” I moan loudly. Insane with lust and love.
“Just like that, Countess. Show me what’s mine. Show me everything.”
His thumb touches my clit, and he pushes his hand inside until his four fingers disappear.
The pain starts, and the pressure, but with it comes the hint of pleasure.
A hint that will soon be a conflagration.
One that will burn so bright I’ll see stars.
It’s the addictive mix of all three that I now crave.
One that I’ve only ever felt with him. One that can only be satisfied by him.
His fingers curl and hit the roof of my pussy, precise and perfect.
When the pressure of his thumb on my clit becomes more than I can bear, I dig the back of my head into the barn wall and let go, my hips jackknifing over and over against his fingers, against the incredible sensations bursting inside me.
I let go and call his name, shouting it to the heavens because that’s where I am.
That’s where my body now resides, for a temporary moment at least, until the next time this man consumes my soul.
I feel myself falling forward, and he holds me steady.
My arms feel like lead, contentment fills my bones, and the ecstasy from my climax still circulates through every part of my body.
I’m too lethargic to react when he lifts me up, helping me wrap my legs around his hips.
He drops me on his table. The tools rattle and some fall to the floor.
The rough surface chafes on my bare skin, but I don’t care.
It’s also not lost on me that my naked ass is on the same table where he’s probably murdered men.
Their DNA is most likely still there, and I’m sitting on it. Again, I don’t recognize myself.
Everything about him makes me crave this.
His power. His aggression. Everything makes me feel reborn.
The good girl Camryn, who never broke a law in her life, is getting wet for a man who is, for all intents and purposes, a mass murderer.
A serial killer who has no intention of stopping, by the absolute certainty in his voice.
Stone pushes me on my back, and I moan, biting my lip when he pushes my legs all the way back, keeping a tight grip behind my knees.
Both legs press on my lungs, making it harder to breathe.
His tongue goes back between my legs, and I cry out, still so sensitive from earlier. “Stone, it’s too much.”
He lifts his head and kisses my inner thigh, dragging his tongue along my skin. The black pool of his eyes issues that sinful invitation. “What’s too much? My tongue?”
“I’m so sensitive,” I pant.
“That’s the way I want you. Sensitive and screaming for me to stop.”
He goes back and I rear up, gripping his head, lifting my pussy right onto his tongue.
Fuck it. I bear down, apparently greedy for another orgasm.
“I’ve missed you. So fucking much,” I whimper when he keeps slurping and hums into my flesh, his tongue swirling around my clit.
He lifts his head and touches me, using all his fingers, moving them up and down, covering the entire surface.