Her cunt becomes so tight she almost forces my fingers out, but then her entire body jerks, and she comes around me in a gush of fluids that soaks my bed and cock, and I follow quickly after, wrenching out my fingers to grip her hips and slam so deeply into her that my cum has no chance of escaping. Choked off groans rumble from my chest as I ride the waves of euphoria, my balls tight as they empty every last drop into her.
Panting, I remain buried to the hilt in her, bending over her pliant, passed out body to press my forehead to her shoulder. My shaky breaths create dew upon her smooth skin, and I wrap her in my arms from behind, pressing a kiss to her spine. Resting my cheek between her shoulder blades, I press my ear to her back and listen to the steady thumping of her heart, grinning like a fool to the darkness.
My cock is already hard again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SUMMER
When I stand on shaky,exhausted legs, something warm leaks from my pussy and down my thighs. My veins turn to ice as an instinctual awareness overcomes my tense body, my eyes slicing in accusation to Kage. “How many times did you fuck my passed out body, pervert?”
His smirk is flawless and impish, a cocky, youthful boy immortalized in his expressions despite whatever past led him to this point. I have vague, dreamlike memories of when I was asleep, my body jostled around and used like some sick fetishized doll, and although I know I should be either running away from him or trying to murder him for what he’s done to me…I kind of expected it, and it’s making me wet all over again here and now as I envision what it must have looked like.
To be so greatly desired that someone cannot even control themselves around you in such a state gives my fucked-up brain a sense of power.
Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.
With a steadying breath, I grip the bedsheets and the edge of the mattress behind me, a little more woozy the longer I stand. As I waver, he stands from a chair in the corner of his room—a big, plush, reading type chair with worn, forest green fabric. Athick, shabby notebook sits closed on the arm, an uncapped pen resting on the faded black cover. It isn’t our notebook, the one in the basement used to communicate these past few months, but something about it stands out to me and sends my stomach tumbling.
The events of the last two days are finally catching up to me, I think, and my body seems to know before my mind that the rollercoaster isn’t stopping anytime soon. Kage’s tanned, rough hands come into view, gently grasping my waist to steady me. He was kind enough to tug one of his clean white shirts onto me, and he stands before me in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I’m pretty sure his dick is getting hard.
Again.
His thumb brushes tenderly against my side, and I slowly raise my eyes to his, careful to avoid sudden movements as my head throbs. His expression is guarded now, a steel-coated glint to his gaze that tells me the fun is over, and something sinister is about to take place. There’s a body in the basement. I’ve been kidnapped. And the only guilty one around is Kage.
Swallowing down my rising fear, I break the silence, my voice cracked and dry. “You’re gonna…clean him up, huh?”
Pressing his lips together firmly, he nods once, his fingers tightening their hold on my waist possessively. Taking another deep breath, my eyes drop to his sculpted chest, my mind hazy and blank, as though I’m reaching for something I know is there but I can’t find it because it’s too dark.
I’m definitely concussed, and him sticking his cock in me probably didn’t help matters. Crooking his finger, he tucks it under my chin and raises my gaze to his, smiling softly. Pressing the pad of his thumb to my lips, he takes a step back before fully releasing me. Eyes still locked, he swipes the notebook and penfrom the arm of the chair and grins, wagging it at me before tossing it into a lazy arc.
It falls flat to the ground at my feet, and my befuddled brain comprehends too late that I was meant to catch it.
“Oops,” I mutter, bending my knees to pick it up, but he’s already there, swiping it off the ground and handing it to me. It’s warm, as though he was writing in it while I was asleep. I hug it to my chest, and he leans in quickly—pecking a chaste kiss to my forehead before vanishing through the door and out into the darkness.
I hold the journal out and sigh, a sinking feeling reminding me that no matter my feelings for this lunatic, he’s still a murderer. A captor. An assaulter.
Whatever he’s written can’t change the cold hard truth.
But the worst part?
The worst part is that despite it all, I know I’ve fallen for Kage, and I think this little book will only make it worse.
Kage’s handwritingimmerses me into a world of sickening secrets, twisted rituals, and—above all—evil, disgusting men. The world falls away as I flip the pages of the story he’s written me, an autobiography about his life that not even the best creatives could imagine. Tears pool permanently on my lower lids, my fingers pressed so tightly to my lips they may as well begin the fusion process.
It’s almost impossible to fathom one young man living a life this horrific, and yet it all makes sense.
The scars on his throat. The way he is toward women. His bursts of anger followed closely by contrition.
And most terrifying of all…
His fear of losingme.
The nameCarteris carved into the pages each time it’s written—the name of his vile brother.
Sucking in a breath as my eyes scan his words over and over, a massive pit forms in my empty stomach and makes me weak with the urge to vomit. Kage spares no details of what his brother intends to do with me, should he get to me. His honesty would be endearing if it wasn’t my life on the line.
He is an innocent child in a vast sea of monsters.
