Page 52 of Lilies from Hell

His only response is to grab my wrists and place my hands under my buttocks, keeping them open for him and giving him perfect access.

“Don’t move.” His voice now thick with desire. I feel him fill my tiny hole with his saliva and the fluids he gathers from my folds as he continues to rub my clit. He moistens me until I’m sure the mixture of his saliva and my fluids has reached the table.

His two fingers push their way in without warning and he begins to move them in and out. My walls stretch painfully, but soon that pain is overshadowed by pleasure. He pulls his fingers out and places the barrel over the hole, thrusting into my walls with one stroke. His hand covers my mouth just in time. My neck stretches slightly. The gasp doesn’t leave my lips, my vision blurry with tears I can’t hold back.

“Relax,” he says, feeling the tension in my muscles and my attempts to breathe. He then gives me a gentle slap on the left side of my buttocks that makes me jump at the sudden blow.

He caress my buttocks with that same hand while he pulls out the weapon as slowly as his control allows him to. Then puts it back in, spitting into my puckered hole once more. His hand fiercely covers my mouth again. In a matter of minutes that seem like an eternity, the pain disappears. An immense pleasure taking its place, bringing me to the brink of unconsciousness.

I don’t know if the gun is loaded or not. My head is too foggy to even focus my eyes. I know that I trust him enough to leave my life in his hands if it means I can get a little closer to the blue hell of his eyes. The pressure in my belly is about to burst. He keeps his hand over my mouth, muffling my cry as my insides tremble with a wave of pleasure. Then he releases my mouth and pulls out the weapon. My cheeks flush violently as I notice the transparent fluids. I look away, feeling my body burn when I see him run his tongue over them.

I push him aside and pick up my clothes from the floor, dressing under his scrutinizing, confused gaze.

“This shouldn’t have happened,” I say, fixing my messy hair into a bun once I’m ready.

“Are you still angry?” he asks, tilting his head to one side. He looks like a wounded puppy.

I look over my shoulder and rush to the table to grab the gun before running away, feeling sharp pains in my legs and arse. Back in my room, I close the door and lean against it with a smile on my lips as I think about where to hide the gun.

It doesn’t take me long to sit down at the desk, swallowing a gasp as I put my arse on the chair. I definitely need to find a comfortable position to sit in these days. I open my computer and call Grace to tell her what happened, switching the gun for his fingers. I have to move the phone away from my ear for a second because of her shrill voice.

“Now comes our plan B,” she says from the other end as I continue to inspect the gun without showing it on camera.

There were a couple of bullets inside and the safety wasn’t on.

I turn my body to the left to continue sleeping, but when I touch something with a strange, soft texture. I sit up and rub my eyes until I can see something. I frown in confusion when I see the number of black petals scattered all over the bed. When I move my foot, something falls to the floor.

It’s a black gift bag with something inside. I get out of bed, knocking some petals onto the floor. I start walking across the bedroom until I reach the bookshelf. There I find a plastic bag with books inside. I open the wrappings, curious to know what kind of books they are. All of them seem to be poetry books except for one. The poetry books are three volumes of a thousand pages each.

I pick up the one that stands out from the others and sit down on the sofa, frowning when I see the title and the strange star underneath it. It is written in one of those ancient languages. I open the book in the middle. I find a whitish envelope dividing the volume, probably some kind of sweet and twisted dedication from him. I will ignore for the sake of not being the one reaching for him. Pride can be that awful sometimes.

At two in the afternoon, the two chapters I’ve managed to read get under my skin. They leave me with a headache and an overwhelming sense of confusion. Why on earth would he send me this? I knew he is into weird stuff and gets off on depraved things, but him being almost sure that I follow his same insane tendencies and beliefs is what causes chaos in my brain.

I want to throw the book away. Put a restraining order against him. But every time I close the book I open it again, feeling the urgent need to know what’s in the following pages. Within minutes, I am fascinated with his anonymous and strange gift. My eyes remain fixed on the next sentence, leaving an echo in my already aching brain.

I know what it means, but I don’t understand the language it’s written in, much less why I know its meaning.

The pounding coming from Jason on the other side of my room alerts me to hide the book under my pillow and go open the door with a forced smile.

“I have two news for you. One good and one bad. Which do you want first?” he asks as soon as he sets foot in the room. His brow furrows as he notices something on my wall, but he erases whatever was crossing his mind as he listens to me.

“The good news.”

“I’ll better give the bad news. Ray’s in the hospital. Car accident.”

“What?” My face pales as I repeat his words in my head.

“The good news is that he’s okay and alive. He’s only broken his leg and a couple of ribs. Sophie is with him at the hospital.”

“Let’s go,” I say, putting on my slippers before running to the stairs.

Jason follows behind me, telling me to slow down if I don’t want to end up with a broken leg like Ray, but right now all I can think about is getting there and seeing him.

We’ve been in the hospital waiting room for twenty minutes. Waiting for the paperwork to be finished so they can finally discharge my father. From here we can see my mother’s frown. The wrinkle becomes more prominent as she talks to the receptionist, accentuating her irritation.

“I saw Romina at home the other day. She was looking for you,” I say as I settle into the uncomfortable chair in the waiting room of the hospital.

“What for?” Jas asks beside me with a yawn.