Page 66 of The Honor Society

“Memorizing.”

“My skin? Why?”

“So, if I ever get shot again, I’ll have enough in my memory to bring me back every single time.” His eyes tease. He slowly leans back and pulls off his shirt, throwing it to the ground. He’s beautiful, every scarred inch of him. It’s stupid how you believe what you want to believe. How I was so convinced this guy was meek because he told me it was gospel.

His scars should have been the first clue though he said he was just accident prone. He unbuttons his jeans, the outline of his length strains towards me. “She laughs?”

“She does.” I’m loving the view. “Only because I bought that shit about you being petrified of spiders and being a lover not a fighter, a talker not a doer, and here you are all scarred villain with a preference for obsidian knives and tally marks.”

“The tally marks are necessary.” His eyes lock on mine. “The scars are because I keep getting shot at and stabbed.” He leans down and whispers against my mouth. “And I can still be scared of spiders.”

“Bullshit you’re the type of guy to stab someone over breakfast then finish their orange juice because killing makes you thirsty.”

“It does have a distinct way of awakening your senses, maybe that’s why I’m starving right now? And true to her name, it’s Famine taunting me.” He leans back and pulls me to my feet, kicking off his pants in the process and pulling me away from the couch. I walk backwards until I’m pressed against a table. He lifts me up onto it and flicks on the fireplace. “For dramatics.”

“The fire?”

“I like to see your expressions when you come undone.” He lifts my chin towards him. “And the lair’s too dark.”

“Knew you had a lair.”

“It’s a shame it took me this long to bring you here.” He gathers my hair in his hands and wraps it around his right hand, twisting it until my skull’s pulled tight. He’s rock hard against me, but taking his time. Everything with Axel has a purpose so I decide I’m only here for the ride—figuratively and literally I guess. “I’m going to love you now, I’m going to go fast and then I’m going to go slow. I’m telling you because I won’t be using words and I know that’s what you’re used to but I’ve used them all up. You gave me permission earlier but my mouth was full of you so I couldn’t really explain the new rules.”

“New rules?”

“For the lair, keep up.”

“I’m trying.”

“I don’t share. I don’t give up. I don’t mark and abandon. I have a very distinct need to keep what’s mine, mine. It has nothing to do with possessing you, but everything to do with dedicating myself to you and expecting you to do the same with me.”

“I’m following.”

“Follow faster because I’ll only say this once.” His expression darkens. “I will kill you if you ever betray me. This isn’t an empty threat, it’s a promise. If I give you every dark part of me I expect you to accept it no matter how disgusted you may be. You have to accept it all and in doing that, you swear you’re mine and mine only body, soul, mind—betray this trust, this confidence, this other worldy sort of promise and no matter how much I fucking love you, I will kill you and my judgement will be swift.”

Tears well in my eyes. “I would never betray you.”

“I don’t believe in words. They’re fickle.” He tilts his head. “I’ll believe your actions and you’ll need to be very convincing every single day, Charlie, because I live in a world of two-faced demons and I couldn’t bear the thought of being stupid enough to fall in love with one.”

A tear slides down my cheek. “I accept your proposal.”

“Proposal?”

“Til death do us part.” I wrap my arms around his neck. “Right?”

His eyes dart back and forth in awe and then he’s kissing me. I think it’s a yes, but my thoughts completely disappear at the way he’s still gripping my hair with one hand and devouring my mouth while his left hand moves to my hips jerking me almost completely off the table, and then he releases my hair and puts both hands on my hips. I’m about to fall off the table when his hips lock me in place and his dick fills me, slowly, inch by inch, until my entire weight is pressed against him. He lifts me with both hands, mouths and bodies fused and presses me against a different wall like he changed his mind and decided the bed was too far.

I claw at his back, my fingers slip against sweat as our bodies slam together. A strangled cry escapes my mouth as he hurries his movements. “Axel, Axel, I’m so close⁠—”

“—Til death,” he repeats. “Say it.”

Tears sting the corners of my eyes. “Til death.”

“Charlie,” he pants. “You’re mine, until death.”

“Forever.” I cry out finding my release, my entire body seizing with pleasure as he follows and whispers against my neck.

“Forever.”