I see you.
I love you.
I protect you.
I keep you.
But instead of saying any of those things, I suck more of her blood into my mouth, making her moan in pain. Flicking my tongue back over her cunt, I rise up onto my knees, slamming two thick fingers inside of her tight walls at the same time I spit into her waiting mouth, a holy offering of saliva, blood and cum. Nellie blinks up at me, my fingers thrusting inside of her, herwalls squeezing so hard it feels as though my bones might break, forcing their way through the resistance, but I don’t stop.
Our noses touching, her pout still parted, I dip down, licking into her waiting mouth, gathering some of the mixture back up, I drag it across her pretty face. Painting her with it, my tongue the brush, her flawless pale skin the canvas. I lap my tongue up her cheek, across her forehead, down over her eyes, before refinding her lips, our mouths closing together. Her teeth savage as they bite down on the end of my tongue, a scar already there from where she bit me before, swallowed a piece of me down, and thinking of it, my dick pulsing with the memory, it makes me want that again. That fire in her, the passion, the shyness that came after without apology.
“Bite me,” I order her, drawing up, hovering over her, my knees stationed inside her thighs, my fingers still inside of her, my other hand sliding from holding her chest, slapping her tit instead, before circling her throat, squeezing so hard it makes my wrist ache. “Bite me, Penelope.”
She lifts those gorgeous eyes back up onto mine, holding my gaze, and as I dip back down, I see the fury still burning in them. Without hesitation her teeth sink straight into my tongue, biting down so hard I taste blood. I revel in it, squeezing her neck, our mouths connected, I tear my fingers out of her, shoving down my jeans, slamming my cock inside of her just as she slows her bite, grazes her teeth over my tongue, pulling on it with a hard suck, before biting back into it like a rabid animal.
Blood fills my mouth, dripping down my chin, and I kiss her as hard as I fuck her. Filling her with my cock, her walls stretching, her pussy so tight it’s strangling, her legs squeezing together, me between them, her knees driving into my sides.
I kiss her and she kisses me back, and it’s a summons, two souls who’ve forgotten how to survive apart, coming together to beat death.
The air is charged, trembling around us as though the heavens themselves watch on with baited breath, wings plucked from angels banished to hell, stopping here on their way down to witness this unholy union.
“I’m gunna fill this cunt with so much cum you’ll taste it in the back of your throat,” I tell her with a smirk, my balls tightening. “Fill you up,” I thrust into her harder, our hips smacking. “Stuff you so full you’ll be feeling me inside of you for months. Your belly round, my baby growing inside of you,” I grunt the last word as I come, spilling inside of her, her pussy clamping down around me, her body arching up from the floor.
Her fingers drive into my hair, nails clawing my scalp, digging in as she pulls me closer, locking our mouths back together as I keep pumping my hips. Cock still hard inside of her, her legs wrapped around me, crossed at the ankles, keeping me locked in close, like she really wants me to, like she’s suddenly come around to the idea, realised it’s not so bad, that it’s not about anyone but us.
Only us.
“Ourbaby, Penelope,” my words kiss her ear, my lips brushing the shell. “Yours and mine.” I kiss her mouth, licking blood from her bottom lip, staring into her eyes.
She looks back at me, my hands planted on either side of her head, her wavy dark hair splayed around her like a halo, she breathes in slow, “Only ours?” she questions, her eyes pinched with caution as she asks.
My eyes flick between hers, a deep chocolate, inky black ringing them, seeping into the brown like clay in muddied waters, “Only ours,” I promise her, and she kisses me, soft, slow, so unlike just moments ago, like it’s a thank you.
A thank you for a promise I will never be able to keep.
No one is free, not me, not her, not our baby.
Under The Obsidian all vows end the same way, with blood on the altar and bodies in the ground.
Chapter 17
PENELOPE
Waning afternoon light filters through the huge stained glass window at the end of the hall, a fifteen foot arch stretching high above my head, the point of it reaching up into the ceiling, more spiders carved there too. Every inch of our part of this monstrous manor is etched with them. The glass casts rainbows across the well-worn antique carpet, my bare feet pulled up onto the soft leather cushioned bench beneath me. A book open in my hands,‘LesFleurs du Mal’,but I’m not looking at it. I've read it so many hundreds of times, I could recite the entire thing with my eyes closed. But it’s always Billy’s writing scrawled inside the pages that I spend more time focussing on.
I hear her voice before I see her, my curled up position keeping me hidden behind the high wooden back of my seat.
“She caught us,” Imogen laughs, a fake low chuckle that puts my teeth on edge. “I’m sure Billy punishe-”
“I don’t think you should be speaking about Lady Penelope like that, Imogen,” Delphine says, soft voice quiet. “She’s very kind to us,” she states, making me smile. “I think-”
Imogen scoffs harshly, “She’s just another one of his girls, he gets rid of them all eventually, and if he’s got me warming his bed already, then I’m sure it won’t be long before he kil-”
“Imogen,” Sophie, one of the other housekeeping girls, scolds, cutting her off, “I don’t want to be involved in any part of this conversation.”
Footsteps leave the carpet runner, low heels clicking across the hardwood, a door opening and closing quickly.
Imogen laughs again, more wicked this time, words more cocky, spiteful, “She’s nothing special,” she continues, sparking an insecurity I didn’t know I had in me. “She looks like a fucking child. Behaves like one too, no tits, no arse, there’s nothing even remotely womanly about her. Why would anyone choose that over this? Especially a Blackwell.”
