novelxo Lovely Bad Things: Chapter 13
HALEN
There is an abyss for us all.
Every walk through life shapes a chasm where our darkest fears and deepest regrets erect the walls of our tomb. Not the physical place where we’ll lie and claim peace, but the void of our despair. It’s far darker than any grave, and more terrifying than any physical death.
It’s the utter certainty of our aloneness.
For all the love and happiness and connections we cleave to in life, such rare, blissful moments can only be experienced because of the suffering we bear. This was Nietzsche’s core belief, and it’s one I painfully accept.
Our abyss tears at our lives like demons ripping apart souls in the bowels of hell. That helpless pain is a torment so unbearable, we may even plead for the oblivion of death to end our anguish.
The suspect is weak in my eyes because of his fear—because he clings to his life, striving to avoid pain, so fearful of falling into obscurity.
But Nietzsche believed that self-overcoming could only be attained by suffering and solitude. There is no path to enlightenment but through pain.
His method to overcome his fear and pain was his own personal descent into the abyss of his mind—one which he never reemerged from, where he languished in the depths, his mind lost to madness.
Or was his madness an escape, a form of true enlightenment where he found a higher wisdom?
Reality is subjective.
I can’t pose any elevated argument, but I can claim with cold, clear logic that acceptance of our demise is not a strength. Overcoming fear of death is not courage. It is not looking the monster in the eye and overpowering our fate with bloated ego to immortalize ourselves.
True strength is having the fraught will and calm surrender to accept our heartsickness, to awake every day and feel our pain, embrace our suffering, and choose to live in spite of our great losses.
I’ve stared into the face of death.
I’ve fallen to my knees and wept before the monster.
I’ve sank into the darkest chasm.
But it wasn’t my death that frightened me; it was the loss of those I have loved most in this world that tore me into an endless, yawning abyss.
All the broken fragments of my life are filed sharp. The more I tried to piece them together, the larger the seam I tore.
My darkness stretches into an infinite void.
And that dark void of my soul is what beckoned Kallum to the jagged crags of my cliff. It called to him. He looked right into me and slithered inside.
I thought I was lost until the devil found me.
I crave the respite he offers from the pain, the numbing balm I feel in his arms that soothes the unbearable ache in the middle of my chest, and the blissful forgetting his touch brings, surrendering my torturous thoughts to the nothingness.
That is his sinful seduction.
And my sin is the desire to be seduced.
His evil calls to mine.
The temptation to want, to desire, to be alive with passion will stir my soul with frenzy until I succumb to his madness.
But, madness is more bearable than pain. Maybe that’s the only wisdom Nietzsche uncovered.
And maybe that’s how I allowed Kallum to slip in unnoticed, like a demon slipping into a dream and turning it into a nightmare.
That waking nightmare is all around me as I move from behind a tree and enter the ritual site.
The night sky is a soulless black that strangles the fiery embers of stars above the killing fields.
The reeds have been cleared away. Markers flag the perimeter of the circle. A ring of fire crackles in the center. The firelight dances on the planes of Kallum’s face, shadowing the contoured hollows.
He is the grim reaper bathed in beauty and illusion.
Yet, as much as I’m remaining on this case out of the desire to do good, I’m not a martyr.
I envy the suspect. I am jealous of his delusion that offers even a moment of peace. If the option was presented to me to sacrifice one life to bring back my family…
My parents. Jackson. Our baby.
The damning truth is, I’m not sure I would make the selfless choice. I’m not standing in this field to save thirty-three victims from the abyss.
I am the fucking abyss.
I’m here to slay the demon taking up residency in my hollow soul.
I pull my bundled clothes to my chest as I walk toward one of the evidence tables. I feel Kallum’s intense stare tracking me, then hear the rustle of his footsteps. I touch the diamond at my neck, close my eyes to take one moment of solitude, then I reach behind my neck to unfasten the clasp.
The abrasive feel of Kallum’s fingers brushing my nape sets off a riot in my pulse. Hands shaking, I drop my arms and wait for him to remove the necklace.
The chain slips along my collar and, as he turns me around, he brings my hand up and drops the necklace into my palm. It hasn’t left my neck since I placed it there after Jackson’s funeral.
After the pitying stares, after the gossiping, hushed rumors of when I’d finally remove my engagement ring.
I curl my fingers around the diamond that’s still warm from my body heat as Kallum regards me with heated eyes.
“The robe’s not purple,” he says, “but this will do. For now.”
The white threadbare robe from my hotel bathroom loosely drapes my body, the belt doing a poor job of cinching it closed at my waist. The chilly night air touches every exposed section of my skin, clashing with the heat of the fire and torrent blaze in Kallum’s gaze.
I turn to place the necklace on my folded clothes. “And when we’re finally done…”
The snap of the fire cracks through the tension. He turns me to face him, lifting my chin and gaze. “Then we can both leave here satisfied.”
His eyes are dark as flint. He embodies all that is unknown and feared in the night. And as he drops in closer, his woodsy cologne mingles with the scent of the fire to overload my senses.
His mouth hovers far too close to mine. “Are you ready?” he asks.
I only nod because, somewhere beneath the turmoil and unease threading my spine, I can feel the electric buzz—that same sensation I pick up on when I first enter a crime scene, like a nest of swarming hornets. The perpetrator leaves behind an imprint, his presence rooted in the soil and steeped in the air, so thick it’s like trying to breathe through tar.
When you’re attuned, you can see the stain left behind in time. You can even detect the vibrations of emotions, the way Kallum senses me, my pain a feast for his dark soul.
The vibrating current of the marsh wilts in comparison to the charged spark arcing between our lips. There’s a force between us that is too strong to deny. I just don’t know what it means, or whether I’m strong enough to resist its destruction.
I lick my lips, tasting Kallum in the smoky air, and his dark energy crushes against me as he watches the action with savage hunger.
He laces his fingers around mine, then leads me toward the center of the circle where the fire licks a seam between two realms. One a reality I’ve trusted my whole life, and the other a world of duality, where creatures of the night don masks and commit acts of debauchery to satiate their lust.
As Kallum releases my hand, I draw my robe tighter. The coarse material gives me something stable to hang on to as Kallum stalks to the gathered provisions.
The items he collected.
Proving he knew the outcome of tonight before he entered my room.
He may have even known the outcome before I sat down at that visitation table.
Once he told me his intent for the ritual, I could have ran. I could have filed the paperwork to send him away. I could have even told Agent Alister of my location, set my phone to record, and waited for agents to descend on the site.
And the only reason I can logically grasp why I did none of these things is the furious beat of my heart. The awareness that, one way or the other, after tonight, nothing will be the same.
For someone who has existed in a perpetual state of limbo, change is the most frightening idea…but it’s also the most enticing.
I close my eyes and inhale the smoke-filled scent of burning reeds.
When I open my eyes, Kallum has the stolen necessities arranged on the ground around us. Carving knife. Bottle of merlot. The circlet made of the bones of a stag.
I stare at the circlet of bleached bones. Woven by a vine of ivy, the brittle shards of bone form the base where the pale, delicate and slender fawn antlers are twined.
The antlers Kallum took right off the wall of his hotel room, and the stag bones I passed every day that I trudged to this scene, never realizing until tonight they were always intended for me. Just as I never realized that, all those months ago, staring into the startlingly beautiful eyes of a madman, he was bound for me in the end.
Placing my phone next to the knife, Kallum increases the volume on the small speaker, imbuing the night with a rhythmic drumbeat. The languid flames roar to life in response, as if summoned by a kinetic force I’m too dormant to sense.
As Kallum rises to his feet, I feel the shift in tide. His gravity encapsulates every molecule, dominating the elements with his commanding presence.
He turns toward me and unbuttons his black shirt. His eyes are molten, reflecting the stirring dance of the fire. He removes his shirt in a vigorous yet effortless manner that rockets my pulse.
My gaze is drawn to his tight definition, to the leanly carved muscles mapping the planes of his striking body. As he moves closer, my gaze traces the ink that held me captive in the room tonight.
The skull of a stag resides in the center of his chest. The swirled antlers coil up his collarbone and crest the lower half of either side of his neck. When first I stared into those empty sockets, it was like the inky blackness of Kallum’s soul was bleeding into mine.
But as he advances toward me now, my gaze isn’t drawn to the stag—I’m breathless at the sight of the sigil for his muse, the design inked into the flesh over his heart.
Kallum pitches his shirt to the freshly upturned earth and grabs the bottle of red wine. His features are sharpened by the shadows as he approaches.
Uncorking the bottle, he commands, “Drink,” as he tips the rim to my mouth in the same way he did at the party.
I tilt my head back as he pours. The tart flavor of fermented grapes slips over my tongue. I close my mouth to swallow and the wine spills down my chin. Using his thumb, Kallum wipes the maroon liquid from my chin and brings it to his mouth.
I blink back the memory of him tasting the blood from my lip. A turbulent mix of unease and heat swirls my belly as the memory of dancing with him fuses with this moment in time, as if layering one on top of the other.
He licks the wine from his thumb, his gaze boring into mine. “I once thought your sweetness would dribble down my chin.” He pushes in closer and grabs hold of the robe. “But it’s more delectable on you.”
I’m naked beneath the robe, a fact I’m made very aware of as his hand slides along the thick collar and slips beneath. The backs of his fingers graze the curve of my breast, sending a sharp pulse of arousal between my thighs.
He pushes the garment off my shoulders, disrobing me in a sensual manner meant to imitate a ceremony. If not for the burning ember of lust in his eyes, this moment would feel sterile. He takes a step back, bottle held in his hand, to allow his gaze to fully—and shamelessly—wander over my naked body.
The feverish brush of heat everywhere his gaze touches sends a buzz to my head that has nothing to do with the alcohol rushing my system.
“I’m trusting this is how the rites were performed,” I say, shivering against the chill raising the fine hairs along my skin.
“Don’t,” he says, his gaze tracing a deliberate path up my body. “I’ve never witnessed the rites. They’re thousands of years old.” As his gaze roves up to touch mine, his mouth steals into a smoldering smile. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. A goddess to worship.”
“You’re making this up as you go,” I say, accusation strengthening the weak tone of my voice.
He takes a step toward me. “I am, as should you. There are only carvings to demonstrate the Dionysian dance performed during rituals. No one can recreate it authentically. It’s not about the steps or mimicking the rites; it’s about embracing the madness. Surrendering to the frenzy. Experiencing the passion. Such as with chaos magick, no practice can be done wrong. It’s the conjurer’s belief in the power that charges the sigil.”
Turning toward the fire, he gives me a moment to collect my thoughts. All this I knew about him prior to placing myself in this vulnerable position. What’s more distressing is the uncanny sensation of eyes watching.
At any moment, an assembly of special agents or a media crew could wander up to the crime scene. But no—that’s not a real worry. That would bring a host of uncomfortable questions, but I’ve faced far worse.
This is an eerie sensation I can’t place, like the feeling I got when I first saw the creepy trees in the marsh.
The trees have eyes…
The proverb heightens my senses until the wine slides into my veins. My head sways with the heady rush of alcohol and steady drumming. And when Kallum returns carrying the circlet of bones, an intense perception of being outside myself comes over me.
I’ve felt this before. Similar to the start of a panic attack, but without the comfort of knowing it will soon pass.
“Wait—” I hold up my hand, then cover my breasts with my arms. “I need a minute.”
I take three centering breaths, then scan the dark field. I can’t discern any shapes past the hazy glow of the fire. The blackness engulfs the distant backdrop, making my heart rate climb.
He cups my face, pulling my gaze up to meet his. His breath steals across my lips in a tantalizing stroke that holds the threat of the unknown at bay.
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” he whispers over my mouth.
I swallow the forming ache. “You are the bad thing.”
A crooked smile hitches the seam of his mouth. “And you are the loveliest bad thing.” He drops a tender kiss to the corner of my mouth.
The wild beat overtaking my soul flays my defenses like the knife strapped to his leg.
With the pale crescent moon above as his guide, Kallum adorns my head with the crown of bones. He brushes my lock of white forward, his fingers sensually grazing my cheek. The weight of the bones and antlers bears down on me, the ivy tangles my hair.
Kallum wanted a pagan goddess for his offering, and that’s what I’ve become.
“Antlers are worn by the initiate to make you more than human,” he says, the steel blade flashing in the firelight as he brings it between us. “The higher you are to the sky, the more godlike you become.”
I can’t focus on what he’s saying over my attention fixed on the knife in his hand.
“This whole scene is a sacrifice,” he continues. “The deer is a sacred offering to Dionysus.” He glances at the gnarled, barren trees looming overhead. “Trees are hallowed and given in offering. We’re amidst a sacrificial monument.”
“Just as I’m an offering,” I say, covering my breasts again.
He wets his lips, his savage appetite evident as he grasps my wrists and shoves my arms down by my hips. “Our bodies are sacrificed through debauchery and gifted in praise, every carnal pleasure an offering.”
Flicking his thumb over the blade, he moves to stand behind me. A ripple of unease coasts my flesh, but there’s also the flaring heat tripping my pulse as his hand brushes my lower back.
“Do I have to keep talking like a tour guide?” His voice dips to a seductive baritone that melts into my skin. “Or can we get right to the good part?”
His hand slips around my waist, and I try to relax against him. Give myself over to the feel of his strong body encasing me, his warm flesh caressing my skin with maddening friction—but I can’t escape the image of the knife in his hand.
“When this is over,” I say, “whatever you feel I owe you…we’re done.” My bold words falter as he sweeps my hair aside to expose my shoulder.
The pads of his fingers gingerly trace the bite he stamped there, the sensitized skin hot beneath his explorative touch. “Before this is over,” he says, dropping a light kiss to the bruised imprint of his teeth, “you’re going to beg me to fuck you right out of your mind.”
He flattens his hand along the valley between my breasts and drags my body seamless to his. My body follows his lead as he rocks us in a furious motion to the fever pitch of the drums, coaxing me to dissolve under the swelling tide.
The abrasive rub of his jeans along the delicate skin of my backside is a torturous mix of pleasure and frustration, the hard ridge of his erection grinding into my flesh, straining to be unleashed.
The fire pops and sizzles in the open night air. The smoldering reeds send fiery flakes of ash up in a smoke signal like a warning. I’m swept into his arms in his dance of chaos and frenetic movement, and I realize that, as I’m lured further into the seduction, I was primed for this moment.
Kallum challenged me at the party to give in to my base desires, to let go of my inhibitions and submit to the frenzy.
His frenzy.
His mouth grazes my shoulder in sinful pursuit to reach my neck, where his tongue delves out to taste, teeth scraping in cruel teases as he advances toward my ear. The heavy pant of his breath caresses the shell of my ear, the sound erotic, the sensual feel lulling my eyes closed.
“Everything is connected,” he says, persuading my hips to roll obscenely with his. “We’re designed to feed and fuck and reproduce. Over and over. The eternal recurrence. But nothing in this universe is more connected than you are to me, Halen.”
My heart rate soars, a heavy woosh fills my ears. Kallum releases me and walks around to stand in front. I still my body, waiting.
He guides me to my knees, the sodden earth cold against my skin. As he looks down at me, he inhales a deep breath, the skull on his chest rising in the firelight. “Touch yourself,” he commands.
My mouth parts as anxiety bites my nerves.
Kallum glides his tongue over the seam of his lips as he openly eyes my naked body. “Either you’re going to fuck yourself right now, Halen, or I’m going to fuck you.”
He’s aggressive, vulgar—and my body should not be responding to his filthy words, but the heat pooling between my thighs flushes my face.
As I tentatively slip my hand down my belly, Kallum takes a step back to absorb the full view. At the feel of my fingertips descending over my clit, my hips involuntarily rock. Breathing staggered, I keep my gaze aimed on Kallum as I give him exactly what he wants.
He harbors no shame as he brazenly drops the hand holding the knife to his side and proceeds to use his free hand to rub his cock over his jeans. The sight is lewd and it sends a blistering shot of arousal straight to my core.
Undulating my hips faster, I arch my back, my fingers seeking the needy spot between my slick lips. The night cloaks us, enabling these depraved yearnings, and I can’t deny how badly I crave his touch—how, when he lowers the zipper of his jeans to free himself, the sight of his thick, hard cock makes me whimper.
I bite down on my lip to stifle the sound, unable to take my gaze off Kallum as he fists the base of his shaft and strokes himself to the tip. My knees dig into the mud as I spread my thighs wider, driving the throbbing ache deeper.
With a feral hunger, Kallum bears his teeth and drops to his knees right before me, making my heart batter my chest. He reaches for the bottle and, tunneling a hand into my hair beneath the crown of bones, he forces my back to arch farther as he spills the wine over my breasts.
He dips lower and licks a blazing trail over my chest, down around my erect nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. My whole body ignites. Untamed need curls in my belly as I finger myself, his fire singeing my skin everywhere he touches.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, perfect.” His praise envelops me in a heated current, dissolving all restraint as I become pliant to his will. “You make me fucking crazy.”
Bowing my back farther, he tenderly guides a hand down my chest, discovering every aching zone of my body calling out to him. He dips me back, brings me forward, rocking us in a dizzying motion as the pulsing, demanding ache swells with need to be sated.
The feel of his cock grinding against my stomach is torturous, and I’m so wet and swollen my fingers slip and struggle to give my body what it needs.
“Touch me, Kallum. Inside—”
I’m not aware the plea has left my mouth until Kallum unleashes a fierce growl. His eyes blaze hotter than the fire as he draws me upright. Then he’s moving behind me and pulling my back to his chest.
He pushes his hand between my thighs. The arched heel of his hand brushes along my slit, and my core clenches around the intense and almost painful ache. My body responds to the erotic sensation as wet heat saturates my folds.
Kallum glides his thumb ring over the sensitive flesh to provoke a moan. His low growl is a primal response to the feel of my arousal, and it resonates in my chest to trap my breath.
“Breathe.” He issues the command and, as I drag in a hastened breath to fill my starved lungs, an image flickers across my vision.
Kallum’s clashing gaze wide and staring into me.
Blood staining his hands.
Breathe mouthed from his lips.
Blinking rapidly to beat back the image, I reach for a stable breath to control the tremor stealing through me. The knock of the drums increases, and a surge of adrenaline rushes my blood. My head goes light, disorienting, as if I’m drugged.
Kallum’s hands travel my body in frantic search, touching, groping. Desperate to claim all of me at once.
I roll my head along his chest, trying to latch on to some rational thought. “It’s too much…going too far…” I reach up to remove the circlet, but Kallum traps my wrist.
He braces my arm along my hip, then the sudden touch of cold steel on my flesh fires through my body with a jolt of alarm. The blade flattens against my stomach, and my belly flinches with an instinctive tremor to contract my muscles.
The intense, resulting pleasure that clenches deep inside almost shatters me.
He releases my wrist to bracket his arm across my chest. Slowing our movements, he drags the blunt edge of the knife across my midsection. My adrenals flood my system with panic.
“Primordial pain unlocks our will,” he says, his breath hot against my ear. “But fear exposes our most base desires.”
The pressure of the blade is suddenly gone as Kallum holds the knife out before me. The glinting steel catches the firelight in a hypnotic wave to mimic the undulating flames.
Then, with an abrupt shift in position, he releases his grip on my shoulder and places his hand next to the knife. Clutching the hilt in one hand, he sends the tip of the blade into the palm of his other and slashes a deep-red seam across the center of his palm.
As the blood wells, the sight stirs a visceral reaction. My heart crashes into the cage of my chest, frantically beating in time to the climbing drumbeat. Shadows encroach along the edge of my vision and I start to tunnel under.
“Stay with me, sweetness.” The command is delivered in a calm cadence that holds me bound.
He trades the knife from one hand to the other and slices diagonally across his palm, splitting the skin to allow a line of blood to flow free.
My lungs plead for air. The edge of my consciousness darkens, wavering as the Cambridge crime scene flickers like the fire in my peripheral.
Only I’m viewing it from the wrong angle. Glimpses of the victim’s blood—bright-red and fresh—just as fresh as the blood dripping from Kallum’s hands.
He proceeds to slice his palm twice more. Blood coats the hilt. Red trickles down his forearm. A haze of red layers my vision as he gently rests the flat of the blade across the fleshy swell of my breasts and commences to smear his blood.
His hand collars my throat from behind, and the warmth of his blood sinks into my skin. He savagely drags his hand from my neck to my collarbone, then grips my breasts, painting my flesh in his violence as he roves over my body. My skin becomes sheened in crimson that reflects the flames licking against the dark night.
“Kallum—stop.”
Before panic can drag me all the way under, he sets me free and he gets to his feet. He walks around so he can admire his work. A beautiful smile overtakes his face and, it’s so inviting, so captivating, I cave under its spell.
He leans over and grasps my neck, guiding me up to stand before him. He cups my face with blood-stained hands, and his thumb traces a wet path across my lips.
“We draw blood to feel alive.” Lowering his head close, he brushes his lips in an infuriatingly light kiss over mine, sparking a current that demands a connection.
My skin buzzes with an electric pulse as our bodies draw together. “Tell me what you need,” he demands.
The seams of two worlds bleed into one, just like our bodies are sealed together by a magnetic force too strong to resist—and the undertow drags me under.
I hear the echo of his voice inside my head. “Tell me what to do.”
Panicked tears spring to my eyes, my psyche unable to handle the onslaught as it tears an outlet. I clamp my eyelids shut, cutting the tears off. And in the dark, the terrifying images flood in a deluge to assault me. They won’t stop.
“Make it stop—”
“Beg me…”
“God, Kallum. Fuck me,” I say. “Fuck me out of my mind.”
A fierce growl tears from the hollow of his chest, detonating on impact as his lips crash against mine.
The kiss rocks through me, leveling my senses. His lips are reckless and unforgiving as his mouth closes over mine with furious, brutal abandon meant to punish me for some sin. I link my wrists around his neck, yielding to the thrashing desire trying to claw through my chest.
He pulls back and devours me with his eyes. “Fuck… I’m going to tear into you, little Halen.” Then he captures my mouth again and bites into my bottom lip.
Gripping the backs of my thighs, he hauls me into his arms. The knife hilt digs into my thigh as Kallum carries me toward the cropping of trees. Rough bark scrapes my back where he presses me against the tree, his body bracing mine.
His fingers seek my heated, wet folds as his mouth searches out the pulse point in my neck. The circlet shifts off-center as I arch against him, lifting my head to give him full access.
As his fingers plunder around my seam, he bites my flesh, drawing forth a throaty moan. I’m lost to the feel, vibrating on a charged current, all fear and illusive images chased into the shadows of my mind. And I let his frantic touches and feverish kisses hold them back like a dam.
My feet are placed to the earth while Kallum kisses me sensually, stealing the last dregs of my breath. I don’t realize what’s happening until I feel coarse rope bind my wrists…then my arms are wrenched above my head.
My blood careens against my arteries. I struggle until Kallum grips my jaw. His eyes—raging blue and green flames—hold me captive.
“For my protection,” he says, and confusion draws my eyebrows together as he places another searing kiss to my lips before he backs away. “Trust me.”
I don’t. I can’t trust him, not ever—but all too soon my wrists are bound and tied to the tree, and I’m pushing against the tide again. The cuts on Kallum’s palms are friction over my heated, sensitized flesh as he worshipfully caresses my breasts. He takes my nipple into his mouth, teeth teasing the bud and sending me back to the safe harbor of my mind.
The surrender consumes me. I’m trembling as he maps every plane of my body, painting my skin like it’s his canvas. He lowers to his knees and pulls my leg over his shoulder to spread me wide.
I’m bathed by the moon and fire, wine and blood, adorned in bones—and a soulless demon is feasting on my flesh. But I’ve never felt so protected, safe, and I give in to the stir of frenzy.
My body rolls with the erotic flow of the current, my mind delving to where base desires flourish in the dark. As Kallum ravishes my body, the torrid flames ensnare me, until I feel the piercing bite of the blade break my skin.
Breath bated, I look down as he wields the knife to carve my flesh. My leg trapped against his shoulder, Kallum marks the uppermost part of my inner thigh right below the seam of my leg. The exact location I pointed out to him.
I moan through the pain. The sharp cuts send a shot of arousal to my core, slicing through the dull ache that encases me. I watch in shocked awe as he shapes the sigil with the tip of the blade—the same design he carries on his chest.
“You’re mine,” he whispers across the inflamed skin. “Come back to me.” Then he licks the wound. His tongue traces the bloody lines of the sigil before he licks a path to the neediest part of me.
I close my eyes, my head falling back against the solid support of the tree. I let the wild emotions tear through me as Kallum licks and sucks and devours.
I grind against his mouth in shameless, brazen undulations of my hips. His fingers push inside me with no preamble, and I suck in a breath at the salaciously full feeling as my inner walls pulse against his expert, rhythmic plunges.
As his tongue swirls torturously over my clit, I turn my head to the side and pant against my arm. An intense pull in my lower back grips me, that delicious tingling webs over my skin, and I clench so hard around his fingers I almost break.
I’m so wet, I can hear the sound as Kallum removes his fingers, and I can’t help but look down.
My breath stalls as a cold prickling sensation sheathes me in alarm.
The intensity of Kallum’s hungry gaze meets mine as he pushes his blood-coated fingers into his mouth. The earth beneath me all but vanishes.
That’s not possible.
I strain to see if it’s the blood stemming from his palm or my thigh—but all logical deduction ceases when I see the trail of red dripping down my other leg.
“How—?” My voice breaks around the word.
“You’re mine, Halen. You belong with me.” His fingers plunge inside me again, his mouth stealing my fear as his tongue flicks over my swollen clit. He laps, sinfully devouring me and feasting on my blood.
Any rational thought is too far out of reach. I can’t think about the accident or loss—so much loss—or the fact I was never supposed to bleed again. Not when Kallum is taking me to the edge, and not when the eerie sensation creeps through my senses and drags my gaze to the dark field.
His savage growl precedes his advance as he rises to stand, capturing me in a brutal hold as he grips the backs of my thighs. His pants are lowered, the need to be connected so demanding he didn’t waste time removing them.
The smooth head of his cock notches against my soaked entrance. My core clenches in anticipation. The ropes cut into my wrists as Kallum lifts me effortlessly and wraps my legs around his hips.
A suspended second where our eyes connect, where I dissolve under the crashing wave of his heated, ravenous gaze, and he sinks inside me in one forceful thrust.
A cry rips from my mouth as he fills me completely, the fullness so intense a shiver racks my body.
“Fuck…you’re perfect.” His praise rolls into a harsh groan as he pushes deep inside, spreading my walls to take all of him.
The circlet of bones scrape my arms as I tense, my inner walls contracting to hold him within me.
His heavy breaths fall over my lips as he rocks out and thrusts in once more. His pace speeds, his biceps flexed in stunning taut lines that display his dark tattoos like his body is an art exhibition.
The stag skull moves and flexes with his increased rhythm, and I have the fierce desire to trace the curves, before my mind is pulled under the pleasurable current.
He secures an arm around my lower back, angling me where he wants me as he fucks brutally, passionately, giving me what I pleaded for—fucking me right out of my mind.
No pain. No apathy. No dull ache burying me under my past.
I’m all blistering fire and honed pleasure and unadulterated lust.
Kallum clamps his other hand around my nape as he searches out the soft junction of my neck where he sinks his teeth. My body grinds against his in desperate need to heighten the friction until we combust.
A slur of profanities escape his mouth on a deep groan, tangled with a string of some old language my mind can’t comprehend in this moment. But it does something violent and dangerously erotic to me, and I moan loudly against his ear.
He sucks at my breast, trapping my nipple between his teeth. “You’re so goddamn perfect for me,” he says, his gaze flicking up to snare mine. “These beautiful breasts were created for me. This fucking perfect pussy—” he ruts into me on a decimating thrust “—mine to destroy. Ah fuck, that’s it. Take all of me.” His thrusts speed faster, devastating my sanity. “I want to see how beautifully you come for me.”
“Kallum—” His name is a desperate plea as heat snakes up my back, and every erogenous zone on my body lights up. My channel pulsates against him with the need for release.
Oh, god. I turn my head to the side, seeking a cool breath to douse the stinging fire—and the flash of yellow eyes amid the dark reeds freezes my blood.
The pending orgasm hurls through my spiraling fear as I frantically search the darkness. The golden glow of eyes blink in pairs, dotting the perimeter. Then I see the branches move.
“Kallum…”
He grunts, hips bucking aggressively between my thighs to tear any lucid thought from my mind. My inner walls clench around him, driving him into a fury of wild thrusts.
As the branches shift in the reeds, I realize with a satisfying rush of relief they’re antlers. Deer rustle in the marsh, their eyes flashing with firelight. Pure relief floods my system, and adrenaline rushes my arteries to send me careening toward the edge.
“Oh, god…Kallum,” I cry out as the orgasm crashes through me, and Kallum is there to answer.
“Fucking see god, sweetness. You’re mine. Say it,” he demands as he stares into my eyes. He’s carnal sin and lust as he relentlessly thrusts inside me.
“I’m yours,” I say, my voice broken by a moan as he ruts into me, stealing the last of my breath.
Kallum fucks with a savage frenzy as he claims me. Rock-hard and engorged, his cock pulses against my inner walls, and I feel the moment he breaks. His growl vibrates over my skin, taking me over the edge with him.
He lowers his head to my chest and bites the flesh of my breast, the pain tensing me around him and urging another orgasm as the pleasure peaks.
I ride him with needy rolls of my hips as he thrusts inside me once more, holding himself deep as the last of his orgasm throbs between us.
As I come down, I scan the field of flashing yellow deer eyes and land on a giant set of antlers. The branch-like horns rise up from the reeds in a slow, eerie progression that prickles my senses.
Kallum’s heated breath fans my neck as he pants, his body trembling with aftershocks. I realize I’m shaking, desperately trying to drag in enough air.
The antlers ascend higher above the reeds, reaching into the night sky.
And when I see the body creeping forward out of the reeds, fear tears a wild path through my chest.
“Kallum—” I shout, finally gaining a full breath. “He’s here.”