Page 190 of Satan's Spawn
It’s Crayton, pure dread and fear lacing his face as he reaches for me from a crevice in the wall.
“C’mon, c’mon!” His waves become even more frantic.
I try with all my might to get to him, my muscles burning from exhaustion, but I keep going despite the light behind me getting even brighter.
The train is on my tail, I can feel it.
I can smell death all around me.
I’m less than five feet from safety when Crayton lowers himself even more so he can reach me.
“Jump!” he screams, and I don’t even have to think about it. I leap into his arms and he pulls me into the crevice, the train blazing past us at lightning speed.
Wind creates a vortex, making it so hard to breathe, and my hair blows wildly as he shields my body with his.
Crayton’s eyes are closed the entire time the train passes, his arm securing my lower back.
My heart is pounding at a dangerous high speed, and it isn’t until the screeching is in the far distance that I allow myself to settle.
I almost died.
Left this world for good.
Left Mom, Roman, and Potato.
Left him.
Crayton’s eyes blink open, and when I press my hand against his chest I find his heart beating as rapidly as mine.
“Breathe…” I whisper to him, but it’s more to remind myself.
There’s nothing but raw pain edging Crayton’s face when he finally looks down at me, swiping one of my tears away with his thumb.
“I almost…” my voice splinters.
“Don’t you fucking say it.” He heaves, his eyes closing again.
“You saved—” I want to tell him how grateful I am, but my words are cut off by Crayton’s lips crashing into mine. So desperate. So powerful.
So full of passion.
His hands find my hair, pulling and squeezing, as if he can’t get enough of me.
I wrap my arms around his neck, tears falling from my eyes again as he presses his hard body against mine.
With one hand against the wall above my head, Crayton lifts me under my ass to bring me closer.
My ankles lock around his waist, and when Crayton nudges my mouth open with his tongue, I welcome him eagerly. His tongue swipes the inside of my mouth, and mine does the same, each of us inexperienced but it doesn’t take long to find the perfect rhythm.
With a needy bite to my lower lip, Crayton drags his teeth along the bottom, only to sneak his tongue back inside to taste me again.
“I’m sorry, Little Ghost.” He breathes when he pulls away. “For everything.”
“None of it matters now.” I pull him in again, our lips colliding so hard teeth clank together, needing so much more than a few seconds of this version of Crayton.
I want him to consume me. Mind, body, and soul.
I want his darkness.
