“He won't be able to save you. At least I was able to rid the world of a few disgusting Selby peasants.”
That family will never learn—even in death, they are distrustful and lowly.
My nails are stamping crescent-shaped indentations in my palm, as I squeeze even harder. In the fraction of a second, my knuckles became one with the drywall—holding back so as not to leave a hole. “Not yet.” I plead with the universe and all the powerful beings that reside in it. “I need more time. It’s too soon.” Repeatedly, I press my fist to the wall, “I am not ready. She isn’t ready.” I look back at her—her expression is dubious and unsure.
“Oliver,” her voice was soft with worry. “Are you ok?”
Blinking, I look up at her. “Yes, my dove.” I lie, but it doesn’t stop there. “It all sounds like a bad dream.”
“Well, then,” her head lowers as her eyes scan the blanket and the clothes she is wearing. “What happened to my clothes?”
It only takes me a moment to produce a reasonable response for her, “I found you in the garden.” The lump is getting bigger, harder to swallow as the lies pile up. “You must have passed out, so I carried you back here… and with the rain—well, that I believe is self-explanatory.”
She looks down, in thought, then back at me. “What about Evelyn?” At first, hearing her ask this question confuses me. Then, I remember her dangling from the banister, and the confusion answers itself.
She.
Saw.
Evelyn.
“What about her?” I realize now she had to have seen her, or else she wouldn’t be asking. “I don’t think I am on the same page. Will you fill me in?”
“Was she just part of the dream, too?” I scratch my head through my cap, shifting it slightly, under the extreme discomfort that my lying has put me in. “Well, I don’t know what you think you may have seen. So, I am unsure how to answer.”
How do I tell her?
“Look,” Knowing I will regret it later,I play into the lie. “I don’t know what it is you think you saw or dreamt, for that matter. All I know is you are stressed.” The churning in my stomach, from my perfidious behavior, is sickly. I try to change the subject. “I drew you a bath, maybe it will help… would you... like me to join you... this time?” She begins to open and close her mouth like a fish on a hook.
By the gods, I love watching her flounder.
I slide my shirt slowly off my shoulders, watching and waiting. It ripples and bunches as I pull the cuffs over my hands—o \ne by one. Relinquishing my hold of the fabric, permitting it to fall, my hands are quick to the button of my slacks, as I stalk toward her.
“Ollie-” She stammers, resting back on the palms of her hands. A few more steps towards her, she falls silent again—a slight quiver of her elbows as her body defies her.
“Emory… I will never be able to take your pain away,” She brings her legs around, as she leisurely crab crawls away from me. “But… I can show you how you can be in control of it.”
Her body visibly melts before me—her shoulders collapse inward as I maneuver to the side of the bed. “Allow me to be your Olive branch, for you are my dove.” Grabbing her wrists, I pull her to her knees, placing her hands on my chest. “Whatever pain you feel, let me be your cutting board.” I put my blade in her hand before letting my pants fall to the ground. My erection springs forward, and her eyes deviate towards it. “Would my dove like a branch to sit on?” I look down at her, giving her a sly smirk.
“What… about-” her voice is airy and lustful. “My sister?"
“We will cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, take your… frustrations… out on me.” I tilt her head back, forcing her gaze on me. Slowly reaching up, I grab the tie holding the cloth to my face and pull. I admire the adoration in her eyes as she searches for a hint to my next move, and I decide she has had enough time, so I end it by crashing my lips into hers, like the Titanic hitting the iceberg—her response is to give in while skating the knife over my skin. My breathing hitches, for her teasing is inebriating. Using the tapered end, she stipples it across my scars, stopping on the one just over my heart—she sinks the metal into me. Vermillion oozes from the cut, but she doesn’t stop there.
“You once told me you knew where my sister was… was that just a power move?” she pushes further, until the guard is flush with my skin. “Or was it the truth?” Searing, delicious pain awakens my body and courses through my veins.
“Yes.” My grunt mixes with laughter, and I answer her in a huff. “The answer is… yes.”
She drives the blade deeper as she twists her wrist 90 degrees to her right. “That… answers nothing, Oliver.” I take her hand in mine, twisting the dagger even more, demonstrating to her that this is… exactly… what I want.
“You give me something,” The words leave my mouth like poisonous venom, its only goal being to disintegrate her plan. “I’ll give you something. Quid pro quo.”
“Oh really?” She cocks an eyebrow. “What do you want?”
A smirk stretches over my face as I lift her, wrapping her legs around my waist, interlocking my lips to hers, as she yanks the knife out.
This is the best fucking foreplay I’ve ever had.
I continue giving her half ass answers, and with each one, the blade enters various parts of my body. An Herbal scent fills the air as I blindly search for the handle to turn the water off. Once all falls quiet, I pull her away from me and stare into her eyes with a newly awakened hunger. “My turn.
