Page 30 of Strangled
“Fuck,” he groans. It sounds almost painful as the noise rips through his throat. His body is so tense, he’s trembling uncontrollably. Sweat trickles down his nape. There are even droplets clinging to his short, buzzed hair.
“You’ll grow used to them,” I murmur and force him to take another step with me. The closer we get to the dense wall of silk, the harder he pushes back into me. His ass is perfectly nestled against my groin.
Keeping my iron-clad grip on his length, I brush my thumb back and forth over his silky-hard skin, relishing in the warmth against my gnarled flesh. He hisses. The sound creeps through the air, wrapping around my neck like a vice.
My friend makes his presence known, snapping me from my reverie. With an irritated sigh, I lean forward, forcing Lyken to move with me, and brush my hand along the thick, white web. The spider crawls up my finger before finding its way onto the silk and disappearing into it.
Lyken’s shiver wracks through his entire body. I caress every inch of him, loosening my grip only just enough to stroke his balls and tease between his crack. He tosses his head back with a helpless whimper, blood flying from his cut and spattering across my face. His skull bashes into my nose, sending a jolt through my own.
A growl rips from my throat. I sink my nails into the thin skin of his balls on instinct before I yank my hand from his pants and wrap it around his throat. He cries out, but I cut the sound off by constricting my fingers, feeling the bulge of his Adam’s apple pressed into my palm.
Warmth trickles over my upper lip, following the curve of my mouth. I flick my tongue across my lip and close my mouth around the pool of our combined blood on my tongue, letting it seep in. His pulse hammers against my fingers. Using my pointer finger, I angle his head to the side.
His eyes are closed, lips parted. The paint from his face is nonexistent now—only a few black and white lines still stain his skin in the shape of teeth. I brush my thumb along a smudge on his jawline, watching as the paint flakes off and drifts to the floor.
He swallows again. My fingers tighten. His chest heaves, aching for breath as I keep it from entering his lungs.
“I created something for you—for us,” I tell him, reveling in the way he fits so perfectly against me.
He’s afraid. I can feel it in the rigidity of his limbs, in the way it showcases in short, rapid bursts of air as if he’s panicked.
But more than that, I can feel the way he melts into me, how his body turns into a pliant, controllable mess at my slightest touch.
I don’t believe in love or in fate. Why would I after all I’ve been through? The mere thought of everything happening for areasonseems beyond absurd.
But having Lyken—my stranger—in my arms, accepting me for who I am—when no one but my friends have done that—makes me want to reconsider the obvious farce.
Except he hasn’t seen the rest of me yet.
But now, he will.
THIRTEEN
“What did you create?” I choke out. His grip on my throat is slowly suffocating me. My head is starting to swim, my eyes rolling back as my lungs ache for air. My chest is heaving, even as I rest back against his chest, using his hard frame to keep me steady.
The cobwebs directly in front of me seem distant as a fog creeps in, engulfing my senses, and everything goes black.
* * *
A ripping noise followed by a distinct crinkle is the first thing I hear. It sounds far away, muffled and quiet. Black dots swarm in front of my eyes as I slowly blink, my eyelids feeling weighted. I’m disoriented as flickers of the room come into focus.
The first thing I notice is I’m on my side, lying flat. There are wooden beams along the wall in front of me, going from the floor to halfway up the roof. I follow them up, my eyes roaming past where they stop. The roof comes to a sharp point—in the shape of a triangle.
Spider webs cling to the rotten wood, thick white clusters filling some of the holes, while other parts stretch from the roof to each brace, crisscrossing into an endless array of silk.
The crinkling sounds again, the noise almost rhythmic. I try to blink away the fog from my gaze as I strain my ears. A chill settles over my flesh, and my entire body erupts into an endless scattering of goosebumps.
I roll onto my back with a groan. My shoulders ache as they lie flat on the warped floor. It digs into my spine, and I grit my teeth as I straighten my limbs. I close my eyes as I try to gain some bearing on what the fuck happened.
The last thing I remember wasLucian’shand around my throat, so big and rough and tight as he stole my breath from me.
Suffocating me.
Except I’m fine. I’m here, just a bit disoriented.
I run my hand over my head. Something wet and sticky clings to my fingers. Blood. My brows furrow as I take in the dark red substance.
“I like my blood on you—our blood.” His voice comes from nowhere, shattering the static-filled befuddlement. My eyelids fly open. The darkness doesn’t seem as poignant now that he’s here, his body a looming black shadow at the other end of the room.
