But she moves into me, quickly closing all distance between us, the huge room seeming tiny when her small hands delicately find my face, the weight of her petite body sliding boldly onto my lap, her knees coming to rest on either side of my hips. Her small breasts press against the top of my chest, her arms winding around my neck, the puffs of her breath icy against the side of my warm throat. She buries her face into me, and I breathe her in, sucking her essence deep into my lungs until I find it, the faintest scent of roses, concealed beneath the stench of death.
I let her sit, I let her catch her breath, calm herself, and it’s as though she falls asleep, going limp in my lap, feelingsafe,but I know she isn’t sleeping really. She’s just waiting.
“Billy,” she finally whispers, my silence drowning us both, “Billy,” she presses up, her hands braced over my shoulders, using me to lift herself, arch her back. “Billy?”
I look into her eyes then, staring into them as if I will be able to pluck her soul right out of them and strangle it for her stupidity, but I don’t, I can’t, instead, my words wooden, I say, “Are you completely stupid, or do you just really want to die?”
“What?” Her brow furrows, tired eyes crinkling with confusion, and I think it’s that that really tips me over the edge, her complete and utter lack of self-awareness.
“You are ignorant,” I tell her quietly, my back straightening. “You were sent here by the devil himself to cause me nothing but nightmares, Penelope. I hope you’ve burnt him and buried the ashes in a million different holes, Nellie. Do you know what would happen if this littlesecretwere to ever be uncovered?”
“I-”
“Shut up,” I suck in a breath through gritted teeth, “just stop talking.” My eyes close and my hands fist tighter over the arms of the chair, “Why can you not just do as you’re told.” It’s not a question, exhaustion heavy in my words. “Why must you be s-”
“Howdareyou,” she seethes, cutting me off, her fingernails gouging my shoulders. “He was going torapeme,” she spits almost silently, “to get toyou. And you’re sitting here with your huffing and puffing likeyou’rethe one exhausted by it.”
I stand, Penelope sliding right onto the floor, thunking as she hits the woven rug covering the wood.
“Iamexhausted by it!” The words explode out of me, my hands flying up into the air. “By you, Penelope! And it’s only been days!” I stop, ten feet between us, she stands as I turn back to face her, pushing herself up, my chest heaving. “Days, Nells, and you’re already causing meso. Many. Fucking. Problems.I don’t know what the fuck to do with you!”
“Send me back!” She screams at the top of her lungs. “Take me back! I didn’t ask to be here! I don’twantto be here! Living in this house. With these people.” She dips her chin, her eyes rolling upwards, coming back to mine, her posture stiff, but trembling, I already know what she’s going to say. “With this fuckingcult!”
I’m moving before she even finishes saying the last word, my hands going around her neck. I’m squeezing, and she’s clawing my forearms, digging her nails beneath my skin like the phantom ones I feel screwing their way into my skull. Her eyes are bulging, mouth open, and I slam her down onto the floor, releasing her neck just to rip off her clothes. Her hoodie flies up and over her head, I toss it away, her back hitting the ground once more, and she’s grasping her throat, heaving in air, weak beneath me, but still fighting, still kicking her feet. The soles of them slamming into the front of my thighs.
I feel her hands on mine as I unzip my jeans, blood under her nails from where she’s tearing into my flesh, trying to stop me. But I’m breathing her in, smelling her skin, roses and dirt, and blood that isn’t mine, but some of it is hers, and as I shove down my jeans, staring into her big brown eyes, ashy and warm anddark, panicked. Her fingers curl into the sides of my neck, her palms over the front of my throat, and it slows me.
Not because I can’t breathe, but because I like it.
This is what I want from her.
Despite everything I just reprimanded her for.
When she’s with me.
When we’re together.
I want her fight.
Ineedit.
Sheneeds it.
My hand comes to my cock, heavy and hot, my fingers tightening around my length, she squeezes my throat, my free hand tearing up the silk of her nightdress, shoving it high, all the way up over her breasts, under her chin.
I pause, her hands not letting me breathe, my lungs burning, one hand on my cock, the other on her hip, pinning her thrashing body down. I see the gauze covering her brand,ourbrand, our number, my Pair, and I have to see it.
Even as we hate each other, I am hers and she is mine.
And I need to see it.
Dipping my face into hers, her panting breath stilling, nostrils flared, she parts her lips, her eyes flicking to my own, before coming back to meet my own. An invisible tether pulls us closer, something dark and sinister, wicked, like skeletal hands and blood sacrifice love spells, our mouths meet. Mine, hungry and aggressive, hers, something like desperation and longing. We crash as we come together, a collision of love and hate and longing.
So long we have waited.
Our tongues tangle, teeth clashing, I bite her lip, she squeezes my neck, and then I’m slamming my way inside of her.
Wet silken walls strangle my cock in the same way her fingers do my neck. And I’m fucking her, one hand beside her head,the other on her thigh, holding her open, pressing down so hard on her leg I swear I can feel her femur crack. But she doesn’t complain, she doesn’t cry out, she just kisses me harder, biting my mouth, licking my tongue.
