“The movie,” I panted, pleasure curling through me like fire. “Is it scary?”
“You don’t like them scary?” His thrusts were slow and deliberate, dragging out my pleasure with a cruel kind of patience. Hard and hungry, but never quite fast enough.
“I–I don’t like horror movies,” I whimpered, my wall clenching around him. “Or anything with ghosts. I’m petrified of them.”
Then, a scream ripped through the speaker of the television, sharp and agonized.
My gaze flickered to the screen, momentarily torn between the man inside me and the horror playing out in front of me. Due to the poor lighting, I couldn’t make out the details, not yet. But something about the scene, though, deeply unsettled me.
The light suddenly adjusted and now I could see something, a body sprawled on the floor, drenched in blood, his face beyond recognition.
I moaned, moving my hips to meet his thrusts, the tension between us building in a slow, insidious climb. “I don’t know if I can watch this. It’s, it’s a bit much.”
“Shhh.” He pressed a kiss against the small of my back. “Just watch.” He rolled his hips, angling deeper, finding a spot inside me that made me shudder. “Pay attention.”
My eyes fluttered shut, but I could still hear it. Beyond the wet slap of skin against skin, beyond my own gasps and moans,there was something else. A voice. A haunting melody hummed in the background, the sound sending a chill racing down my spine. But somehow, it only amplified the pleasure pooling in my core.
“Wait, what’s–” I saw him before I could complete the question. The man on the screen. The one humming in the background.
He was now standing over the body, wearing a long black coat, a pair of black leather gloves strapped to his hands.
He was tall and broad, with waves of white hair cascading down his back. And there was an axe clutched in his gloved hand.
My breath faltered.
“Zaghan?”
“Relax,” he murmured, his fingers bruising into my hips as his pace suddenly quickened, feeding off my fear.
On the screen, he crouched beside his victim, resting the axe against the bloodied floorboard. Then, with slow precision, he reached up, gathering the rest of his white hair into a bun. He pulled a band from his wrist, tying the hair.
My stomach dropped, my pulse pounding in my ears.
I tried to move, to scramble away, but he tightened his grip, locking me in place.
“Don’t go running now,” he breathed against my ear, a smirk evident in his voice. “The movie just got interesting.”
He thrust into me relentlessly, while on the screen, he raised an axe, hovering it over the bloodied man’s trembling arm.
My body burned with pleasure, yet fear coiled around my bones. I didn’t understand why I was still so aroused, why my body still welcomed him even as I seemed to be forcing my mind to recoil.
“W-what’s going on?” My voice was shaky, lips trembling. “What are you doing to him?”
“Are you still wondering why you’re like this?”his version on the screen asked, his hand tightening on the bloodied man’s jaw.
The man groaned, barely conscious.
I watched as he swiped a dagger from the pocket of his coat.
“You touched what’s mine.”He forced the blade into the man’s mouth.“Spoke filth with this tongue about her. So, I’m cutting it off.”
I gasped. “What–”
Zaghan slammed into me harder, stealing my breath. “Hush. Less talking, more watching.”
Sweat beaded on my skin, my body tightening, overwhelmed, as pleasure and horror tangled like poison in my veins.
I watched as the dagger severed the man’s tongue. A strangled sound escaped me, though I didn’t know if it was from Zaghan’s punishing thrusts or the grotesque sight before me.
