Page 138 of Black Castle

His fingers trail between her thighs, teasing. “I have the perfect movie for us.” His grin widens, wicked and hard to read. “Highly recommended. Something tells me you’ll love it.”

Then he moves to the large screen mounted on the wall across from the bed, grabbing a flash drive from the stand and plugging it into the TV.

Vivienne’s mind spins in questions. There’s something deliberate about this, something hidden in his tone. She isn’t sure she wants to know what it is.

“Done,” he announces, returning to the bed.

“Get on.”

How brows knit slightly, waiting.

“On all fours.” He steps closer, tilting her chin with his fingers, his touch gentle. “Do it.”

She climbs onto the bed, positioning herself as he intends—facing the screen, her body open to him.

The bed dips under his weight. Shadows shift around her. A low shuffle of material, then warmth pressing against her backside.

She glances behind her, and her breath catches at the sight of his cock—thick, veined, and aching.

“Oh god,” she whimpers when he drags his length across her dripping throbbing heat, teasing, tormenting.

A sound crackles from the television as he presses a button.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” His fingers dig into her waist, holding her still. “You’re gonna be my brave girl and watch every second of this movie, okay?”

She nods.

“And when it reaches climax, I need you to explode all over my cock.” He presses the head against her entrance, not quite. “Do we have a deal?”

“Yes,” she gasps, arching her back, desperate for more.

Finally, he thrusts inside, stretching her, filling her in one deep stroke.

“Come on, ladybird, eyes on the screen,” he orders, pulling out agonizingly slowly before driving back inside her.

She gasps, barely registering the flickering images on the screen. Glitching lights. Echoing footsteps. A ghostly soundtrack rises beneath her moans.

“The movie,” she pants, pleasure curling through her like fire. “Is it scary?”

“You don’t like them scary?” His thrusts are slow and deliberate, dragging out her pleasure with a cruel kind of patience. Hard. Hungry, but never quite fast enough.

“I—I don’t like horror movies,” she whimpers, her pussy clenching around him. “Or anything with ghosts. I’m petrified of them.”

Then, a scream rips through the speaker of the television, sharp and agonized.

Her gaze flickers to the screen, momentarily torn between the man inside her and the horror playing out in front of her. The lighting is terrible, making it hard to make out the details. Yet something about the scene deeply unsettles her.

This movie isn’t supernatural—at least she doesn’t think so. It feels more like a slasher film. And now that her eyes have adjusted enough, she sees it clearly; a body sprawled on the floor, drenched in blood, his face beyond recognition.

“Zev,” she moans, moving her hips to meet his thrusts, the tension between them building in a slow, insidious climb. “I don’t know if I can watch this. It’s—it’s a bit much.”

“Shhh.” He presses a kiss against the small of her back. “Just watch.” He rolls his hips, angling deeper, finding a spot inside her that makes her shudder. “Pay attention.”

Her eyes flutter shut, but she can still hear it. Beyond the wet slap of skin against skin, beyond her own gasps and moans, there is something else. A voice. A haunting melody hums in the background. The sound sends a chill racing down her spine. But somehow, it only amplifies the pleasure pooling in her core.

“Wait, what’s—” She barely manages the words as she finally sees him. The man on the screen. The one humming in the background.

He is now standing over the body, wearing a long black coat, black leather gloves strapped to his hands.

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