“Billy,” I rasp, my throat tight, lungs both dry and wet in equal measures, like humidity trying to penetrate sun baked earth. I lick my lips, cracked and split, blood coating them, it makes me smile, my cheeks aching, but I smile. “Come to me,” I summon him, my voice no louder than a whisper. “The moon is out and it is the eleventh night,” I don't know if he can even hear me now, my words feeling like they're swimming through thick fog as they attempt to leave my mouth, but I know he can put me back together again.“Billy.”
My eyes flutter closed, hiding him from my view, my heart a slow thud, spaced apart by too many seconds. I always knew he would be the death of me, I just didn't think it would be now.
But then his hand is wrapping around my wrist, his strength effortlessly dragging me closer, until I'm pressed up against the side of the man he's taking life from.
Billy's warmth is heating my spine, his bare, sticky chest clinging to my back as he comes over top of me. One knee in the dirt beside my hip, the other pinning down the man who hurt me.
Breath heavy on the nape of my neck, the top of my spine, earthy musk and sharp grapefruit fills my nose. I form a smile, feel it pull at the split corner of my mouth, my body battered, but he is so careful when he wraps his long fingers of one hand around my thin thigh. His thumb smoothing over the axe scar heput in my pale skin, a macabre caress, before he's hooking my leg open, folding my bent knee over the body he's suffocating.
He spreads my legs open wide, still holding the limp man down, Balor’s face down in the earth, Billy’s hand splayed over the back of Balor’s skull, crushing him, whilst in the moment, still giving me exactly what I need.
His hot, hard length slides inside of me like a silk coated pipe stretching me, punishing and pleasuring me all at once as he forces himself farther inside.
I jolt forward with the first hard thrust of him, my inner walls tightening around him, trying to keep him deep. He bites down on my lobe, grunting, the top of his nose in the shell of my ear.
“Fuck, I love you,” he breathes, sliding out of me, slow to thrust back in hard and deep.
He groans against me, my body trembling beneath the comforting weight of him, because I'm safe with him even when I'm not. But like this, I am all he sees and it is power.
“I'm gunna fill you with my cum, make your belly round with my baby.”
Billy's other hand is still pressing down on the dying man's skull, the clicking of the cartilage in Balor's nose making my teeth ache. One of Billy's knees is still digging into the centre of his spine, holding him down, and he doesn't struggle anymore. This strange rattle inside of him like an exhausted rasping exhale as his body slows his fight for life.
“Billy,” I breathe, tears in my eyes as I stare at the earth, the night cloaking us in darkness. “Billy.”
It's like a chant. Confusing, natural. A holy confession. To speak his name like he is a god,mygod. The only one I'd ever worship.
“Billy.”
“That's right, Little Lamb, scream my name into the night.” His words are spoken enchantingly, commanding, directly intomy ear, his tongue curling over the shell. “Tell me you want me to put my baby in you.” He demands it, and I can hear the smirk in his voice when he bites down on the side of my neck. “Say it,” he hisses, snarling with his teeth buried in the skin of my throat.
What he doesn't realise yet though, with every stroke of his thick, swollen cock thrusting inside of me with an untamed savageness, is that it's already happened. There’s already a little piece of him taking root inside of me, swelling my belly, engorging my breasts. Billy Blackwell is already consuming me in every devouring way.
“I want you to put your baby inside of me, Billy,” I whisper it like a scorched confession lashed out of me by whippings, playing along, not telling him yet, my belly hidden in the earth. “I want you to fill me up with your cum. Leave your mark on my insides the same way you do my outsides. I want to grow with your child.Ourchild.” I'm breathless, my heart thundering behind my ribcage, like a battering ram to the bones.
Billy goes completely still, holding his breath, and then his chest lifts off of my back, his crushing weight disappearing and making me feel cold all over. Goosebumps spring up, pimpling little spots sparking to life all across my exposed skin like lightning struck me, causing every hair upon my flesh to stand to shocked attention.
“You mean that, Little Lamb?”
The leaves rustle in the strong gusting breeze, Billy's scent mixing with my blood and rushing around my head like it's very own tornado. The body beside me makes a tired croaking sound. All of his limbs having stilled minutes ago, much before Billy was hooking my leg over the dip of his spine.
“I do,” I whisper, watching Billy's long fingers flex over the back of Balor's skull, feel his dick twitching inside of me as he presses his knee harder into the body, driving his cock deeper inside me.
“You'll do that for me?” he asks with awe.
“I'll always do anything for you,” I breathe, wishing I could see his face, watch him realise the moment,thismoment is real. “I love you, Billy,” I tell him again, something that, even when I feel like I hate him, is true. “I always have.”
He groans in my ear, grunting as he draws his hips back, sliding his cock almost all of the way out, nothing but the tip nestled inside of me. Before slamming his way back inside, his crown attacking my cervix and his hand grabbing at Balor’s head, yanking his face out of the dirt and slamming it back down.
The man makes no sound as Billy continues to slam his head repeatedly into the earth, he's dead now, but Billy doesn't care, if he even notices. Slamming Balor's face down into the ground with every punch of his hips.
I let my eyes fall shut, relaxing into the dirt as Billy carves his home inside of me. Shaping me for him and only him. Erasing everyone who forced their way inside of me before he found me again. Before he came for me. And in his own twisted way, saved me.
Chapter 30
BILLY
The graveyard is trembling, the air tastes electric, the storm having passed, but it’s as if lightning hasn’t quite decided whether it’s finished with us or not. The moon watches from above, cold, unblinking, painting her in cool candescent silver where she kneels in the mud, peering up at me like I am more than a man.
