He fell completely silent. Mind blank. Chest heaving. Skin burning.
He came silently too.
Because silence was the loudest sound he could make in the face of the greatest pleasure ever given to him. He didn’t think a human body was made to survive something like that. He let go. He tore at the seams and flew apart just like he’d imagined he would. He hoped Daddy would be there to catch him.
He didn’t know anymore.
Everything was stars and white noise as he felt something warm spill over his ass. He closed his eyes and slumped, but caring arms wrapped him up. Gentle fingers untied him. Soft lips praised him and kissed his damp skin.
“Daddy,” he whispered, voice abused and scratchy.
“You were perfect, honey,” Daddy said. “My beautiful, magical boy.”
“Love you,” Liam slurred. “Daddy, I love you.”
“I love you too, honey. Sleep. I’ve got you.”
Liam let go.
Something was crawling over his skin. It started at the knob of bone on his ankle. Just enough to pierce through the bubble of sleep. He twitched his leg then settled back down, chasing the calm that clearly came with sleeping next to his daddy.
But the feeling didn’t go away. It climbed up his calf, feeling like a billion pin pricks on his skin. He reached down to scratch his leg, half-asleep and so tired he just didn’t want to open his eyes.
His nails raked over his leg, but the only thing that happened was that the itching feeling crept up. It escaped from under his fingers and slithered up to his thigh and hip, making him squirm. He scratched again, harder this time, because the higher up his leg the feeling went the more intense it got. He kicked the covers off thinking that was what was bothering him.
The feeling bloomed up his hip and circled his waist like fingers.
“Daddy, stop.” Liam tried prying the fingers away, but they wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t get a hold of them. Couldn’t catch them in time before they moved to his chest, then his collarbones and neck.
He was itchy all over and it wouldn’t stop.
It was burning now, making him whine as he dug his nails into his neck and dragged them.
“Stop,” he gasped.
“Liam, honey!” Fix’s voice filtered through the haze of irritation and itchiness.
“Daddy, make it stop,” he said as the feeling reached his cheeks and ears and forehead. And then, like an explosion, it bloomed all over his entire body.
He started scratching madly. It wouldn’t go away. He tugged at the blankets and the pillows, pushing them away, trying to make it end finally.
“Please!” he said, but nobody was answering him, and the phantom fingers kept wandering along his skin, setting little fires in their wake.
Chapter 22
Fix
“Liam, honey, I need you to wake up,” Fix implored as he watched Liam writhing on his bed, angry red welts blooming on his skin from his own nails.
Sleep was still making his brain hazy and he could barely focus on what he was seeing. In the dim light of a small bedside lamp, Liam was thrashing, kicking his legs and begging Fix to make it stop. Fix wanted to. He really wanted to help but he had no idea how.
Unless…
Terror gripped his insides as he reached for the top drawer of his bedside table, pulling out his white marker and pressing it to his skin without even bothering to check if this was actually a curse.
The dim light glowed and Liam stopped scratching his skin.
It made no sense.
