Page 21 of Haunt

“You are mine, Little Lamb, my whole heart. And I will die before I let anyoneelseever touch you again.”

It feels like there is so much more to unpack with that sentence. The things he’s going to do to me are going to be truly horrific. He’s not trying to lie about it, and yet,anyone else, feels like he means more than just him.Elsedoesn’t really make me feel very reassured.

“Do you understand me?”

I do.

I don’t.

There is so much more to him than I know. It didn’t occur to me to try and find out anything before now.

I feel ridiculous and stupid. Pathetic.

Desperate.

He has alluded to so many different things since I have known him. There are cryptic words scrawled in my book, the one currently tucked safely in his back pocket. A chain around my neck that suddenly feels like it weighs one hundred pounds and a glint in his eye, sinister and ominous. Becauseheknows all of the unspoken things between us. It feels like tonight is really, only, just the very, very beginning.

Despite it all. Everything unknown. I nod, sealing my fate, because, regardless of howabsolutelystupid it makes me, I don’t want to be separated from him ever again.

I am lovesick.

“Yes, Billy,” I swallow, whispering between us, “I understand.”

And then his lips are crushing into mine. A collision strong enough to kill. My teeth do more than my lips as his tongue dips into my mouth, licking into me like he could consume me just like this. My hands fly up, fingers curling over his shoulders, and then his hands are gripping the backs of my thighs, lifting me up with ease. My legs curl around his waist, the cut in my thigh burning. His tongue fucking so hard into my mouth, it feels as though he’s going to tear out my tonsils.

And I love it.

Every depraved second.

It’s filthy and raw. I grind my core down his laddering abs, too much fabric between us. His black shirt, my yellow dress. Day and night, but neither one of us really belongs in either.

Monsters that flourish somewhere in the in-between.

Something I was always frightened of, until I fell in love with one.

And now I am one myself.

Two monsters thriving in the decay.

My pussy grinds into him, my core on fire, his fingers bruising where he grips the backs of my thighs, my knees pressing sharply into his ribs. I lift up, knot my arms around the back of his neck, hands locking over my elbows. I bite into his bottom lip in the same way he attacked mine. The brush of his tongue over my clamped teeth has me unlocking my jaw, immediately snapping back down. He groans against me as I suck on his tongue, his fingers digging even deeper into the flesh of my bruised thighs and then my head is slamming into the wall at my back making me see stars.

Copper is thick in my mouth, slick in my throat. My lips wet, chin dripping. He stares at me where he has me pinned to the wall. His mouth no longer on me, my skull having ricocheted off of it as he knocked me into the house. I can feel it then, captured between my teeth.

The little piece of his tongue.

He stares at me, bloody faced, and he looks…uncertain.

It takes me a second to clear my vision, the back of my skull pulsing where I rest it against the cold stone wall of the home at my back. The wall he must have shoved me back into it. I don’t even remember how it happened… I stare into his light eyes, roll the miniscule piece of his flesh around on my tongue. His eyes are fixated on my jaw, my mouth, and then they lift.

I grin at him, and I don’t feel nervous, a piece of his tongue locked behind my bloody teeth. He swipes his face against his shoulder, smearing a mixture of his blood and mine onto the black fabric of his shirt. It smears across the lower half of his face, across his cheek, chin, side of his jaw.

He swallows, and my mouth starts to water, wanting to mimic the action, but I don’t, not yet. Instead, our eyes locked, an unreadable type of hesitation in his, I open my mouth. Slowly stick out my tongue, showing him the little piece of his.

As his eyes lower to it, I think of the rough, bloodied blade of his axe. The way it dragged dangerously over my peaked nipple, how he was enraptured by the caress of it across my body. That’s what I focus on, howheworshippedme.

Billy turns his head, spitting blood on the floor at his feet. Saliva drips from the corners of my mouth, the overwhelming urge to swallow. I pull my tongue back into my mouth, a little piece of him with it, it feels like power. I still don’t swallow.

Billy’s light blue-grey gaze roves over the mess on my face before bringing those dangerous eyes back to mine.

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