Page 12 of Haunt

It is a chant inside my head, I repeat her words over and over, let them bounce around the inside of my skull.

I always had her devotion as children. I feared I would not have it so easily this time, twelve years later. And yet, as I set the butt of the axe blade against the crease of her cotton covered cunt, apply just the slightest amount of pressure, a keen, high-pitched and whiney, claws its way up her throat like a demon.

Followed by a quick breathy,“Please, Billy,”her body instantly trying to grind down on the iron and steel instrument.

My free hand flies up, and she stills beneath my fingers clasping tightly over her shoulder, thumb sliding across her collarbone. I tilt the bloody axe head between her legs. Blunt side pressing harder against her pussy. The sharp edge directed towards the flesh of her inner thigh, all whilst keeping my eyes on hers, I don’t cut her.

“This cannot happen yet,” I hush, my chin dipped, eyes flicked up beneath my dark lashes. “We have to leave here first.”

I think of what is to come.

What is going to happen.

To her.

Us.

Tonight.

Something I feel strangely about without my three brothers being present, bolstering my confidence. Still in England, at our home in Raven Ridge Hallow. I also know it is going to be intense, this rushed union. The Obsidian cannot wait. My punishment for shielding my Little Lamb all those years ago only now lifting.

Because of Gore.

And I am running on very limited time.

After they tried to pair me off with others. Suitable candidates oftheirchoosing for my pairing, despite that being fucking sacrilege because I had already found her. I killed all five of them, the potentials for my pair. I am lucky this has even been sanctioned. I thought they would make me die without her. Or watch as I continued to tear apart everyone theyofferedme until it wasmethey made a mess of in the Abbatia.

I only want her.

She stares up at me, willing, waiting. I don’t want to frighten her too much. Not yet. I need her to trust me inexplicably for what is to come.

Her breath is warm over the back of my hand, and it grounds me for a moment, brings me back to her.

Always her.

Tethered and twisted through one another’s insides.

I lift my free hand closer to her face, the other still perfectly steady on the wooden handle of the axe pressed between her thighs. My thumb plucks at her thick bottom lip, dragging it down, away from her teeth. I stare into her eyes, blown black in the low light, imagine what they’d look like between my fingers if I were to pluck them free, place them between my teeth. And then her tongue finds the tip of my thumb, licking over the bloody skin, the underside of it laving over my thumbnail. Her mouth is hot and wet when I press my thumb against her tongue, her lips closing over the digit without instruction.

Humming, she sucks it deeper, the pressure I’m applying to her tongue making her jaw click. She doesn’t try to spit me out, get me to release her, as my index finger hooks beneath her chin. Ensnaring her lower jaw hard from the inside and the outside of her mouth. Saliva streams from the corners of her lips, her mouth still closed, I press harder, watching the clear fluid flow down her chin, cleaning its way through the blood splatter. I can almost feel my finger on my thumb, still pressing down on her tongue, side of my finger driving up harder into the hollow of her chin. As though the digits are trying to connect, her jaw, skin and tongue between them.

The muscle in my forearm tenses, ridges of veins popping up through my brown skin at the intense pressure I apply to her jaw. And, just like that, the spell is broken, her teeth bite straight through my skin and it feels as though she is going to strip my flesh clean from the bone with the savagery of it.

I stare at her mouth as she bites harder, swallowing, her throat working a mixture of her saliva and my blood down her throat. It hurts, feels so fucking good. If there was not a ritual hanging over our necks like a guillotine then I’d be so fucking deep inside of her right now, we wouldn’t know where she begins and I end.

“Release,” I snarl, my cock twitching in time with my hammering pulse as she does exactly as ordered.

Her teeth almost suction as she widens her jaw, my finger from her chin having fallen away. Her lips pop open, disconnecting us.

“Suck,” I instruct, lower, gravelly, “Clean up your mess.”

Her eyes flicker between my own, and then her lips once again close around my thumb, still on her tongue, and she sucks gently,erotically.I grit my teeth, her eyes on mine as she sucks on my thumb, swirls her tongue around it. I tug it free slowly, because my self-control is fucking slipping, and this is my final chance. If I fuck this up, we may as well both be dead now.

“We need to clean up a little, there’s somewhere I need to take you,” I breathe the words lowly, licking my lips as she lifts the back of her hand to her mouth and swipes it across her chin. “We can drop this off on the way,” I tell her, thinking of the late hour, but the place we are going, on this hallowed day of the year, is not closed for us.

Her naked body is radiating heat and just for a moment, axe still angled toward her thigh, I lose a little of that carefully crafted control, andcut.She gasps, body trembling as I drag the blade out, shallowly slicing her more as I do. I lift it to my mouth, frowning at the mess, because it’s not only her blood on there. I suppose in the same way it was not only my blood on the thumb she expertly pulled into the back of her throat, considering my hands had been ripping apart a dead man. So I lift it towards my mouth, locking gazes with hers once again, back of her hand still against her chin, lips parted, eyes wide. I open my mouth, intending to lick up the blade when I have a better idea.

Purer.

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