Page 52 of Fatally Yours
When I sank him inside me, he let out a pleasured groan and muttered a vulgarity under his breath, returning his hands to my hips and lifting me off him. My fingers were digging into the icy flesh of his chest, wanting nothing more than to leave another permanent scar upon him, one inflicted out of love, not stemming from a tragedy.
I did the best I could as I raised and lowered on him, all while he held me in place. My body felt like fire, and I could feel another climax building, wanting to coat him as he filled me.
“I love you,” he gasped, taking my head in his hands and pulling me to his lips. “I will always love you.” My body jolted as my engorged clit ground against him, as his hips thrust against me, fueling the inferno in my center. My response was muffled against his mouth as our tongues entwined, andlightning struck me.
His habitual breaths were heavy against me as he let out another moan, silenced by my tongue. I could feel him pumping into me, thrusting until his love was nothing more than a comforting, gentle throb against my center. His release made me collapse atop him as I panted, just like I would have in life. The remnants of our previous state were still there, brought out by our primal need to enjoy each other.
“I love you, too,” I huffed as he threaded his hand through my dark locks, grazing my scalp and making my eyes flutter. This moment now was what I lived and died for, sharing myself and my love with the man who worshipped me.
“I’m going to spend the rest of my existence helping you get your dream,” he said, placing his mouth against my ear like he was afraid someone would hear. Then he lifted himself away from me, looking me straight in the eyes with a mischievous grin. “Kids, music, me being a pain. Though I think I’ve already done plenty of that.” He chuckled as I placed my palm on his face, drawing his sparkling gaze to mine.
“You really have,” I said with a smile. “But it’s okay. I love you all the same.”
XXV
After another six hours on the road, we finally reached Randy Clark’s hideout. It was a good thing I couldn’t stop thinking, I supposed. At least in that moment. That was the only time in life or death when my thoughts caused something good to happen, as opposed to just tormenting me into a state of panic.
Who knew how long August would’ve waited to ask me to be his forever? But that would imply I wasn’t his already. It would’ve happened eventually. This was just something we needed to keep our spirits high. Our reunion was already settled in death.
He was fired up, and his infectious energy rubbed off on melike the thick stench of death, clogging my pores and filling my veins with venom. We put Mandy’s car in park, and the engine died down, smothered out like Randy would be. The houses were spaced apart, perfect for committing a crime that no one would hear.
There was no going back now, not after everything we had been through. Taking a breath, I turned to August, feeling a fire growing in my belly. It would be hard not to be impulsive when the face in those pictures showed itself to me in real life.
“You go in first,” he instructed. My lips pinched together.
“Again? Really?” I asked, a bite to my tone. “I don’t want to be first after what happened last time.” He glared at me, but it wasn’t malicious. It was more that he felt guilty about what happened previously and couldn’t properly express it.
“Thatwon’thappen again,” he affirmed. “He’ll be less intimidated if you knock on his door instead of me.” I let out a long breath as I crossed my arms, daring to defy him after he took my life. It was a bold move, but I wasn’t afraid of him.
“Why? Because I’m small?”
August shook his head. “No, because you’re a woman.” My insides twisted with that simple assertion. My femininity was going to be used against me once more, and it wasn’t like I was facing a regular person. This was a full-blown criminal. Not only a fiend against children, but a murderer as well. Endless possibilities were running through my head of all the ways I could screw this up or have it go wrong.
“He could have a weapon,” I rebutted.
“Yeah, he could,” he said. “You’re not scared of dying, are you?” His face was as expressionless as I had ever seen it. It only solidified what was about to happen. Our destiny would be complete, and we could be happy.
“Not anymore,” I said, climbing out of the car. The night was as peaceful as ever, and I strolled down the sidewalk, avoiding pitfalls in the shattered pavement. My shoes grazed little sprigs of grass that were forcing their way through the cracks, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I found myself facing a door.
Taking in a breath, I glanced back at the car down the road, noticing August’s silhouette was missing. Before I could talk myself out of it, I gently rapped against the door, hoping not to sound forceful. I needed to appear delicate, not like we were here to rip the soul from his body.
There was a muffled scattering of noise and footsteps from the other side of the door, and it sounded like a presence was getting closer. If my heart were still beating, I knew it would feel like it was going to crack through my ribcage and put a hole in my chest. I had waited the whole afterlife for this moment. A scrape from inside indicated he was looking through the peephole, surely judging if he could prey upon me or not.
After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, revealing the face of a predator. A storm of emotion consumed me. The man in the pictures, the one who caused all this pain and hardship, was there before me, looking at me with a cocked eyebrow. The urge to reach out and throttle him was not lost, but I resisted, only because I didn’t want to make a mistake and ruin this life-changing moment, even if his neck in my hands would feel so much better than I wanted to admit.
“Yeah?” he asked. My anger sparked into an inferno, and I balled my fists, shoving them into my pockets to hide my emotion.
“My car gave out down the road. Can I use your phone?” I lied. His leer of suspicion and confusion faded with my confession and blended into something that made my cold skin crawl. The lines on his face turned with his slimy smile, and I could see strands of saliva stretching between his lips as he spoke.
“Of course you can, young lady,” he beamed, gesturing for me to enter. I muttered something gratuitous under my breath as I stepped into the foyer. My nerves were fraying, ready to burst into flames under the stress of the situation. I knew August wouldn’t let anything bad happen. The world would have to submit to him before anything like that occurred.
My eyes wandered to Randy, filled with unnoticed hate, until I spotted a gun poking out from the waistband of his scraggly sweatpants. My instincts from being alive were kicking in, telling me I should be scared of such a large, predatory man with a weapon, until I silently thanked god that I wasdead.
“You look like you’ve been through hell, darlin’,” he said, leading me through the living room. His home was exactly as I expected—peeling paint, holes in the walls with exposed supports, and stained carpet. Propped in the corner was a guitar, much like the one August once had. I noted that we would have to take that once we were done.
The television was blaring some indistinct sitcom. It was the only thing illuminating the room besides a flickering lamp that blinked as often as I did. I nodded as he glanced back while my eyes scanned the home, trying to remember all the rooms we passed. Yes, hell—because of him. August’s death. Getting murdered. Being buried. Killing people. Enjoying it. It was all hell, set in motion by what he surely thought was an indiscriminate act.
“Yeah, I have,” I replied. We wandered into the kitchen. The condition was not much better in there. Old food wrappers, empty alcohol bottles, and the occasional stray needle were littered along every surface. My fire raged on as I thought about how much he could indulge while August rested six feet under, and I sobbed myself to sleep every night until my body ached.
