Chapter 34
Butterfly Man
“You can’t kill Tristan.” A tear slips out of the corner of her eye. “That’s enough.”
She mutters other things, but I don’t listen. I’m mesmerized by that one tear. I want to taste it, own it, even if it’s shed for another man. I release the bottom of my mask and lick it off her face.
Her lashes bat against my tongue. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Making that tear mine.” I savor the taste. “It’s real, but it’s for someone else, someone who didn’t deserve you. I own your tears, Reagan. They’re all mine. You are mine.”
“You killed an innocent man. A good man whose only sin was trying to save me.”
Fury builds hot in my chest. “He was trying to steal you from me. That’s not salvation. That’s a crime worse than murder because… Can’t you see, darling? I can’t fucking live without you.” I trace the path of her tear. “Believe me, I tried. I just can’t.”
She stares at me, at my hidden face, my naked lips. I don’t feel it until her eyes narrow at it, until I taste salt that isn’t hers. Somewhere between fury and confession, I, too, have cried.
Clearing my throat, I wipe the wet trail off my chin and clip the mask back on. “Now, Shane and Mason. You were about to tell me the truth before we were rudely interrupted.”
She closes her eyes and turns her head away. She thinks she can go somewhere inside herself where I can’t follow. Foolish little butterfly.
“Open your eyes and look at me, darling.” I peer at the books on the shelves. I’ve bought all her works. I’ve copied her own shelves and Tbr lists. I’ve read every single word she’s ever written, every one she’s ever read. How does she think she can run away from me or hide?
She doesn’t move.
“The table is gone, yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t punish you, my naughty little butterfly. There are so many other ways to make you scream.”
Nothing. She’s good at her emotional disappearance act.
“There’s something you don’t know about me or this place, my queen.
See, this here is my own apartment, which means it’s the one place I get to be truly myself, where I make my art, where I read your masterpieces, where I watch you for hours and hours, through the cameras, from the window when you sit in that cafe you love so much…
and in my head.” I laugh under my breath.
“I know, I know. I sound crazy, like madly obsessed with you, like my whole world revolves around you, and it’s…
true. What I want to say is, I spend almost all of my time trying to protect you, and that means I don’t get a lot of free time to, you know… I’m a man, and I have needs—”
“For fuck’s sake, if your incoherent rambling is your new form of punishment, it’s working.” Her eyes fly open, blazing. “Fucking kill me already. I’d rather be dead than spend one more second listening to this bullshit, one more second with you. Period.”
I pause for a second. Then I laugh. “You don’t mean that, darling. I get the first part, I’m not a master of words like you, but the second part, really? You’re mine forever, Reagan, and I’m yours. Eventually, you’ll understand that’s exactly what you’ve always wanted.”
“Eventually, you will understand that I will kill you myself.” She musters up a huge ball of phlegm and spits it in my face.
“You’re such a sucker for punishment, little butterfly, aren’t you?
Okay.” I get up and walk into the adjacent room where I keep all the fun stuff.
I clean the mask before I wheel a covered cart out.
“What I meant to say earlier was that I’ve had a lot of time to fantasize about every kinky dark sex scene you’ve ever written, and with that…
” I remove the blanket from the cart and reveal the contents. “Ta-da!”
A frown slowly contorts her face. “What the fuck?”
“This is every sex toy and device you’ve mentioned in your books.
Speculum, plugs, spreaders, clips, clamps, wands, cuffs, impact toys, suckers, pinchers, presses, if you wrote it, it’s here.
Even Dom’s stock is stashed in the other room.
Where do you think I got the inspiration to build that table?
” I walk back to the bed. “So, my beautiful butterfly,” my voice loses all humor, “you’ll tell me exactly what I want to know or the consequences will be even harsher than before. ”
“Ah, so this is what you are after all, a lonely, ugly little boy who has got all of these toys but no one to play with? You’re pathetic.”
Lonely. Ugly. Pathetic. She’s trying to hurt me, to make me angry enough to slip up.
My palm lands on her pussy with a heavy swat. She gasps, and I do it again. And again. And again. Fourteen times until the gasps turn into moans she can’t suppress. Then I rummage through the cart and get the flogger and the labia spreaders.
“Did you and Mason fuck, Reagan? Scratch that. I know you did. How long had you been fucking? Did he make you come?”
“Are you not tired of these stupid questions? Shane is dead, so is Blake, so is Mason. Why do you give a fuck?”
“Mason is dead?”
“Yes… And now Jacob. You killed him.”
Mason is dead. When? How? She said he was just a neighbor who tried to help before everything went wrong. But now he’s dead too? “A lot of men die around you, Reagan.”
“They all deserved it.” Sorrow touches her face. “All except for Jacob.”
“Stop saying his name. That one deserved it the most.”
“Jacob. Jacob! JACOB!”
I part her thighs, clip the spreaders around her lips and pull hard until her pussy is stretched open.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” She’s kicking and screaming, but I’m in a trance.
“Punishing you the way every dominant you’ve ever written punishes his stubborn little brat.
” My cock springs to life at that vision.
Pink. Wet. Swollen. For a moment, I forget about the punishment.
All I can see is her spread open for me.
Completely and utterly mine to do with what I want.
I revel in the fantasies feasting on my brain.
“You have such a pretty pussy.” I could fuck her right now. I could push inside and make her scream my name instead of Jacob’s. I could— “Oh.”
I freeze in awe. She’s bleeding. My Reagan starts her period, and I get to watch firsthand. The world narrows to that beautiful color, that truth. She’s flesh and life and majesty.
My grin behind the mask is ear to ear. I can’t help it. I remove the mask bottom again and bury my face between her legs.
“Get off me, you son of a bitch!”
I ignore her and eat her up until I’ve had my fill. Then I smile at her.
“What the fuck? Why are you bleeding? Did you bite me? Am I too numb from the fucking drugs to feel it? What the fuck did you do to me?”
“No, darling. It’s natural. You got your period.”
She stares at me like I have three heads.
“This is so intimate, even more than being inside you, as if you’ve let me see inside your soul.
” All my anger dissipates. I’ve never wanted to take care of anyone the way I want to take care of her now.
“It’s like we’re really into The Italian Obsession.
Remember that scene? Remember how Angel felt with Tino?
We can reenact it. I don’t have a piano, but we can improvise. ”
“No.”
“That book is your favorite, and you write a lot of period play. How is that not your kink?”
“Take those fucking clamps off my pussy and untie me.”
I smack my lips, tasting every drop of her sweet blood.
“You know what? I’m in such a good mood, I’ve decided I won’t punish you anymore.
You’re my queen, and you deserve to be pampered, especially during this magical time.
I promised I’d take care of you. How about you tell me what you’d like to eat?
Do you have any cravings, any rituals to make it easier? ”
“Yes, I sacrifice two virgins and eat their flesh for breakfast.”
I laugh. “You’re so funny, my love. I know, ice cream and a heating pad.”
“How about underwear and an actual pad for starters?”
But I want to watch. I can’t take my eyes off that crimson spell. “I’ll tell you one thing. If you’re a good girl and answer my questions while you let me take care of you, I’ll give you what you want. Deal?”
Her nostrils flare as she says, “Fine.”
“Yes!”
I feed her chocolate ice cream as the comfort of the heating pad relaxes her in my arms. “Such a good girl. Would you like me to read some Tino and Angel for you?”
She squints at the bookshelves. “Maybe later. I’d like you to read from your favorite book.”
Are you trying to trick me, little butterfly?
You can’t be a good girl for long, can you?
Not even when you seem to have a thing for praise rather than punishment.
I just read her that spicy scene where Tino makes love to Angel while she’s on her period, and she finally realizes how much she loves his cock.
Am I a good boy innocently reading parts of her favorite book to please her?
Nope. My intentions are far from honorable.
I guess I’m naughty, too. I can’t wait for her to punish me.
She winces, trying to move against the straps.
I put the ice cream bowl away. “Something hurts, darling?”
“It’s called cramps. The cuffs aren’t helping either. Can you free my limbs, even if it’s one arm or one leg for a few minutes? I can’t feel them. They’re so numb.”
“I’d love to do that, make you as comfortable as possible, but…”
“What? I did everything you said without so much as a complaint.”
“But you haven’t answered my questions yet.”
She takes in a long breath and exhales with another wince. “Fine. I’ll play your game again. This time, for every answer I give, you take off one of those cuffs, and the clamps, and then you put me in clothes.”
“Umm… Yes to the cuffs. Clamps can go if you let me eat you again and enjoy it as much as I will. We’ll see about the clothes.”
She mumbles something before she agrees. The story she tells me is dark and gritty and gruesome. The details break my heart and fan the anger in my chest.