Page 59 of Chaos Carnival

He kissed me again, deeper this time, and for a moment the world steadied. But when he pulled back, the webs started their whispers again, showing me fragments of what was to come. Each vision was a gift, no matter how dark. Why had I ever feared seeing too much?

“You're going to bleed for me,” I told him, my fingers tracing the planes of his face, fascinated by how his skin rippled with potential futures. “So much blood, like rubies in the snow. The threads show me your pain, your desperation.” I giggled, though my eyes were wet. The tragedy was beautiful, really. “You'll search for me until your feet bleed too.”

“Shh,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine. “Stay here, with me.”

“But the minutes keep slipping,” I said, my voice cracking with wonder rather than fear. “And when I'm gone, you'll never stop looking. Never stop hoping. Your tendrils are all twisted up with mine, but separate too.” The patterns were so perfect, I wanted to weave them into my skin.

His mouth covered mine again, silencing my rambling, and I melted into him. The web’s whispers faded to a gentle hum, and the fractured edges softened into a kaleidoscope of warmth. Each one more entrancing than the last.

“That's nice.” I sighed when we parted, my fingers curled in his shirt, playing with the way it existed everywhere. “The quiet is nice.” I looked up at him with a small smile, wondering if he could see how the currents crowned him in future sorrows. “Youmake the madness quiet. Though I'm not sure I want it to be quiet anymore. It's rather lovely, all these layers of truth...”

The sadness in his eyes made my heart ache, but the lines were being kind, letting me have this moment in his arms. His hands traced constellations of freckles on my skin, each touch rippling through me. I laughed as his fingers painted prophecies along my waist.

“So many futures,” I whispered, watching the way his hands felt like tomorrow. “They're all stained with your blood, you know. Such charming crimson patterns...”

His groan rumbled through me, but I could taste the concern beneath it, sharp like lightning. “Stay here, monstre. Stay with me now.”

I turned in his arms, fascinated by the way his features blurred between now and then, real and possible. “But which moment is this?” I traced the edges of his future scars with trembling fingers.

He caught my hand, trying to anchor me, but even his touch sparked visions of pain and passion yet to come. “Whose soul is bound to mine across all those moments, monstre?”

“Bound and bleeding,” I agreed dreamily, watching the patterns of destiny around us. “Listen... can you hear them singing about us?”

Heat bloomed across my skin like dawn breaking in another time. I couldn't look away from him, not when he was gazing at me with eyes that existed just for me, dark with possibilities. The usual weight of destiny had lifted from his features, if only for this scattered collection of moments.

I stepped back, drawing his shirt over his head, my hands skimming the topography of his chest where scars would bloom like dark flowers. Each touch mapped both present and future pain, but here, now, there was only us.

He moved with fluid elegance, backing me toward the bed until my knees found its edge. I fell into a cascade of moments, laughter fragmenting into echoes. But the sound transformed into something deeper as his fingers worked at my jeans, each movement precise.

The denim slipped away like the past, and his lips traced futures along my inner thighs. His eyes held heat that could burn through the very fabric of time. “Every second of mine, monstre. They're all yours.”

Any protest dissolved into the matrix of possibility as he pulled me closer. The threads' whispers rose to a crescendo of desire, each note resonating through dimensions until I could taste tomorrow's passion in today's kiss. For once, I didn't fight the madness. I let it carry me away on waves of now and later and always, drowning in the dazzling chaos of this perfect, fractured moment.

With a wicked grin, Maverick rolled me onto my back, his eyes never leaving mine as he positioned his face between my spread thighs. His breath was hot against my skin. I gasped when he flicked his tongue out to taste my arousal. My hips jerked upward, and he chuckled, clearly pleased at my sensitivity. I was powerless to resist the sensations coursing through me.

As he started to lick and suck on my clit, his movements were deliberate and masterful. My eyes rolled back in my head, and a cry escaped me; my body always responded to his touch this way. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a dark purr. “Let me hear you scream.”

My hands gripped his hair, urging him closer, as I relished every indulgent move. His tongue continued its sweet torment, his gaze locked on mine, watching my reactions. He wanted me present, lost in the moment. “You are divine,” he growled, then dove back in.

The room filled with the sounds of my moans and his soft, hungry noises; our bodies moved together in perfect tandem. I felt myself tightening again, and I knew I was close. He always knew how to get me there.

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a velvet whisper, and I did, my body shuddering with force as ecstasy claimed me. He lapped up every drop, savoring my sweetness before moving up to claim my lips in a deep, possessive kiss.

Maverick pulled me to my feet as our lips and tongues clashed. My legs were weak, but in his arms, I forgot everything—my name, my fears, my past. There was only his touch, his taste, his possession. My breath mingled with his and I wanted nothing more than to stay lost like this forever. But Maverick had other plans.

As I leaned against the full-length mirror on the wall, his hand slid between my thighs, his fingers seeking my arousal. A strangled noise escaped me when he pushed two fingers inside, curving them to find that sweet spot that had me crying out. “So wet for me, monstre,” he purred, his breath hot on my neck. “You're as hungry for it as I am.”

The evidence of my need coated his fingers, and I couldn't help the small whimper that escaped as he drew them out. But he was quick to fill that emptiness, pressing himself into me from behind. I braced myself against the mirror, my knuckles shaking as he claimed me with slow, deliberate punches.

The cold glass of the mirror against my breasts made me gasp, my nipples tightening to pebbles as the chill collided with the heat of my skin. Leaning on the surface, watching his reflection as his hands slid around my waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

His eyes met mine in a silent challenge in the mirror making my heart race. Each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through me, a burst of sensation that had me teetering on the edge.

I tore my gaze from our reflection, my vision blurring as pleasure spiked through me. “So fucking beautiful.” My breath hitched as he withdrew only to slam back in with more force, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. “I love how you feel around me. Can’t get enough. Your pussy knows exactly who it belongs to.”

His touch was both tender and possessive, a masterful blend of dominance and care that made my knees buckle. I clung to the mirror's edge, my breaths quickening with the effort of supporting my weight as he took control, moving in a rhythm that spoke of a hunger that had been denied for far too long.

Each movement pushed me harder into the glass, and Maverick's hands gripped my hips, guiding me, owning me, as he moved with relentless precision. “You're mine,” he growled, his voice rough with intensity. “Look at us, Tess. We're perfect monsters together.”

---