Open.
“Melancholy doesn’t suit you,” I murmur against her neck, making her break out in a wave of goose bumps. I want to plunge into her stygian depths. The abysmal darkness that only she can bring me out from. Her darkness feels welcoming. Like fuckin’ home.
I chuckle against her skin. “You hate the effect I have on you.”
She continues playing. As if she can distract herself from me. Won’t let her. “Bend over,” I instruct.
Her hand hovers over the last key, motionless.
She swallows hard. I sense her ambivalence.
Being the unfair fucker I am, I kiss down her neck with a tenderness I never show.
Doesn’t mean shit. Gonna do whatever I need to get her to rely solely on me.
My perfect plan threatens to shatter under this strange vortex.
I blind myself with hate to stay on track.
She obeys willingly and stands on shaky legs. She can pretend she doesn’t love the darkness within me, but her affection is a silent veneration. We are one. Letting her go is no longer an option. Instead, I’ll have to do the unthinkable to be free of this invisible tether that holds us together.
“Open.”
I slip a molly under her tongue. She knows this song and dance. Good girl. Obey. “Undress,” I command.
Silence fills the amphitheater.
So I roughly undress her when she makes no move to follow my fuckin’ directions.
Her body jerks with every violent tug of her clothes, pitching forward as her dark hair cascades down her front, covering her breast from my view.
She braces herself on the piano, making the keys chime in a piercing crystalline staccato.
I scan over her body and lick up her exposed spine.
She shudders. Fuckin’ delicious. Before she can protest or lose herself in that mind of hers, I lower to my knees in front of her globed ass.
I never get on my fuckin’ knees for any bitch, but for her this is the second time.
A goddamn record. Gotta keep her on my string like a marionette.
The minute she cuts the strings, I’ll fail the last few years of work. Fuck that. Gotta be two steps ahead.
“Admit you’re fucked-up just like me,” I whisper harshly against her cunt.
Her body trembles. She screws her eyes shut as I give her a single taste of what I can offer.
I lick up her slit, tasting her betrayal, her desire, and her fucking desperation.
She’s weeping for me. She secretly loves my threatening, devious nature.
My demons rise to the surface, demanding I claim her the moment my tongue meets her silky goodness.
She’s yours. Drown in her. Sink into the profundity of her abyss. Cover her in a bloody offering.
Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP!
I tap the side of my skull with my fist. My eyes slam closed to regain my focus. Vertigo slams into me.
“It’s okay.” Her meek voice cuts through my thoughts.
My eyes fly open at her words. Her soft eyes peer over her shoulder down at me.
She’s…trying to…soothe me? I let out a sinister laugh.
“Is it okay?” I say disgustingly, mocking her.
My tongue lashes against her folds again before I rip myself away.
I sit back on my haunches. Hate the effect she has on me.
Hate her. “Songbird, you don’t know shit,” I snarl.
I rise to my feet and roughly grip her arm to keep myself grounded. She gasps.
“I’m a fuckin’ monster. I’m fucked-up. No amount of comfort you could offer will ever fix me. What did I tell you? I’m not somethin’ for you to fix. I’m. Not. Broken.” I slam her cheek against the sleek wooden piano lid. I watch her reflection against the veneer finish.
A stray tear falls from her eyes, and I let out a rumbling growl. Her body racks with sobs. It has me on the verge of snapping. It’s a sickness, a poison—the urge to destroy every beautiful thing until it’s a pile of ash at my feet.
Fuckin’ break her.
Shut up!!
I grind my molars. “I’m gonna show you how fucked I am, songbird. You’re nothin’. I own you. You’re mine. All fuckin’ mine. Give it all to me willingly, or I’ll take it…again and again. Test me.”
She cries harder, and I lose all control. Her tears release something with me. My demons resurface. I spread her ass cheeks and spit down her crack. She lets out a strangled cry. “Zain! What are you—”
I cut off her words. “What did I tell you? You’ll never be safe from me. Nowhere. I’ve claimed you. Could be easier if you trust me, but you wanna do shit the hard way. I see the way you look at me. You look at me with pity and incredulity. Don’t need that shit.”
Her body fights my hold. I’m bigger. I’m stronger. Pointless for her to resist. My saliva slides down her crack and over her forbidden hole. Gonna own her in every fuckin’ way.
“Brace yourself, songbird.”
“Zain, please,” she cries out in a desperate attempt to sway me. Nothing can assuage me from the sacrilegious craving that’s taken over.
I pull my jeans down and pop my cock free. I don’t bother preparing her. Call it callous. Call it ruthless. My focus is blinding and dispassionate.
I pull her globes apart and slam into her, ramming deep into her ass with necessary roughness.
Mine.
“Zain. Stop! It hurts!” She howls a retching cry, clenching her ass cheeks. Her hands brace along the wooden piano for purchase. I’m impervious to her bullshit. She’s gettin’ too close for comfort. Can’t let her.
My pelvis slams into her backside. “It’s only gonna hurt worse if you tense.
Get lost in the molly, songbird. Ride the wave of silence with me.
Let your sick fantasies unveil,” I pant.
My dick is on the verge of release. Her asshole is tight as fuck, and her sweet cherry scent wafts into my headspace, tightening like a visceral band.
She isn’t enjoying this at all. Don’t want her to. This is a punishment. She refuses to give all of herself to me, so I’m taking it. My balls tighten and my release is imminent.
“Fuck,” I grunt, pitching forward. Her body slams into the piano repeatedly, bruising her hips, pelvis, and thighs.
Black-and-blue blemishes bloom on her upper arms from my vicelike grip.
I refuse her any pleasure. Maybe next time she’ll cut the shit.
Her desperate attempts to prod into my brain are unwelcome.
I know her more than she knows herself. This facade she puts on for the world isn’t her, she just doesn’t know it yet. Under the layers, she’s just like me. Fucked-up.
“Man, I don’t think you’re ready for this shit.
I didn’t keep it from you. Didn’t feel it was pertinent.
” Kieran shrugs, blowing out a heavy plume of smoke.
He licks the corner of his lip and leans forward on the dusty orange couch.
This is the first moment we’ve had to discuss any of this shit without interruption.
My palms rub my eye sockets until I see kaleidoscope vision.
Gotta wrap my head around this shit. Thought I had everything planned out. Nothing is ever simple, is it?
I reach around in my jeans pockets looking for anything to take the edge off and silence my demons.
Wasn’t enough to punish Vesper in the auditorium again.
Punishing her for my own sick thoughts is never enough anymore.
Doesn’t help I have to rein in the crazy, otherwise she’ll run for the hills.
If she does, then I’m fucked. Force would be necessary.
I’m mere seconds from destroying her, I want nothing more than to see the final pieces shatter.
I watch the fractured lines cracking her resolve.
My inner monster is not used to being tame this long.
Think the only reason I’m still hangin’ on is my little hack-and-slash fun with Jax.
It was a renewal of sorts, an offering to appease my inner being.
The thought of locking her up is becoming more and more appealing.
I’m losing sight of my goal, and that’s not an option.
She’s turning into my new addiction. I see something dark under the surface that even she hasn’t uncovered, something portent.
I am plagued with a marrow-deep suspicion that when I uncover it, she’ll fall harder than I can ever imagine.
Somehow, it might set a precedent for self-sabotage.
“Need all the information, Kieran. I have a simple plan, and this shit is threatening to fuck it all up.” I pace across the dirty carpet in the living room.
He clicks his tongue and flicks cigarette ash on the bare floor. “Man, if you want some transparency, you’re gonna need to tell me why it matters,” he smirks.
Smug fucker. He knows it has something to do with Vesper. He suspects she means something, though he doesn’t know exactly what.
I glower and still my pacing. “Don’t fuck with me, Kieran,” I warn, wagging a finger at him. I slip my hand into my pocket and rub the pad of my finger along my switchblade.
He shrugs nonchalantly and puffs his cigarette. “Listen, man, you’ve always been a closed book. About time you let someone inside that fucked-up head of yours.”
Flames dance in my irises, and my hand tightens around the blade. My jaw tenses.
He puts his hands up defensively. “Fuck, I’m joking, bro.
” He leans back against the couch and lets out a derisive chuckle.
Then, his tone gets serious. “Listen. This shit is deep. There is a certain hierarchy to things, and I know how you like to try to change shit to fit into what you want, but it’s absolute. ”
“Noted,” I grit through my teeth and begin pacing again.
“The underground pleasure house is called the Void. It stands for Vault of Indecent Desires. My family started it generations back as a way to acquire money for the school. It is a good front, I’m not gonna lie.”
I interrupt his explanation. “So why are you not more involved?” I raise a brow. It’s well-known Kieran enjoys fucking, and this is the perfect place for him to get his dick wet without commitment and clingy bitches hanging onto his cock.
His face turns stony. “Do you wanna hear this shit, or you going to question me? You refuse to spill your shit but expect me to?”
Touché. I flick him off but let him finish as I lean against the couch arm.
“Each Grimshaw descendant takes charge of the Void when their elder passes. Like I said, the scholarship program is a sham. Those given a free ride are used for the other Elite families to use any way they choose. That’s the catch.
Mortensen doesn’t do shit from the kindness of his heart.
My father is a selfish bastard,” he continues.
“The wives know. Most of the time anyways. They turn a blind eye in order to remain in the Elite. As you know, most of the Elite families pair their kids up together so the legacy continues. They’re all about purity bullshit.
It’s way easier for the guys. We inherit everything.
Fuck anyone we choose. The girls don’t get to be choosy. ”
A bewildered look must cross my face because Kieran continues, “The men are the ones with the power. The money. All of it. Void is a place to live out the sick fantasies they can’t play out with their wives, girlfriends, or mistresses.
The offering are almost always willing. Easier to agree when your life is on the line, yeah?
Most of the junior Elites partake more than the senior Elites.
Their parents want them to indulge, so they push them. ”
I rap my fingers against my temple. “So Clara has no clue yet she’s about to be doled out to multiple men for fuck all knows what?” I confirm.
He sits forward and clasps his hands together tightly. His jaw ticks. “Right,” he says through his cigarette.
I tip my chin up. “So, if she declines, Vesper is the offering? “He nods slowly. “Yeah, but it’s because of her age. If the offering declines, they lose their scholarship for whatever reason Mortensen concocts.” He waves his hand flippantly. “Rule demands the youngest daughter out of all Elite families be first in line. After they finish with her, she’ll be remanded as an outsider. Can’t have something so used and tainted up for marriage to the junior Elites.
They’ll eventually be the next generation.
Never was fair but…” He shrugs nonchalantly.
I fucked her. She’s already tainted in their eyes. That explains why most Elite females have little to no experience.
“So she’s a sacrifice.” My face twists in revulsion. I’m not above sexual violence to a point. We both know Vesper wouldn’t survive their rigorous games. If she’s the offering, it will take away my opportunity for sweet vengeance, and I can’t have that.
He nods. “For the ‘greater good’ apparently,” he says with air quotes.
I rake my fingers through my scraggly tendrils. Vesper’s father has kept her locked up knowing she’s a sacrificial lamb. He’s trying to protect her; preserve whatever innocence is left. Doesn’t matter his reasoning. He’s still a piece of shit who needs to be brought down and eradicated.
Kieran flicks his cigarette on the floor and stomps his high top over it, engraining the butt into the carpet. “If Vesper is targeted, that means that someone already has their eye on her if Clara declines. She’s pretty. You know she’ll be sought after.”
His words threaten to send me into a murderous frenzy. “We’re at an impasse then,” I say with a blank, emotionless tone.
His bloodshot eyes meet mine. Silence filters over the room. I know good and well the ball is in Clara’s court.
He shakes his head and lets out a vulpine sneer. “There’s no escaping this shit, man.”
The odds of Clara declining seem slim. I don’t know her other than the miniscule interactions I’ve had with her when Vesper is near, but my attention was always fixated on my songbird. Clara tends to spread her legs for anyone with a swingin’ dick.
“You’re in heavy with the other Elite juniors. You’ve got standing,” I point out.
He scoffs. “I can’t change shit. I’m powerless over rule changes, at least for now.”
He meets my gaze. “My suggestion to you is do whatever the fuck it is you need to do with her, and soon. They will be approaching Clara about it any day now.”
He stands abruptly. “Another word of advice, bro. Get her out of your system or whatever, and move on. If she’s chosen, I don’t wanna know the chaos you’ll cause in your wake.”
My eyes darken. “What about you? You’re on the devil’s doorstep with this Clara bullshit. You gonna fuck her out of your system?”
A murderous glint I’ve rarely seen from Kieran shines through. “Let me worry about my shit.”