Page 97 of Behind the Shadows
She took every inch like she was born for it, her hair in a tangled curtain across her face. I watched the curve of her back, the twist of her shoulder blades, and felt the animal inside me claw for more. Every thrust was punishment and worship, absolution and sin.
Her cunt and tight asshole clamped around me, hot, greedy, defiant. I bent over her, teeth to her neck, biting down as I pumped my hips, reckless and unrestrained. Holland keened, the sound muffled by her arm, and I knew she was close. I reached around and pressed tight circles on her clit. She bucked, nearly unseating me, but I pinned her harder.
“You’re mine,” I growled, and it came out rough. “No one else will ever touch you again.”
She nodded, trembled, “Yours. Always yours, Kip.”
She spasmed, walls fluttering, and her legs shook. I rode her through it and didn’t let up even as she cried my name and slumped into the countertop. I couldn’t stop, not when I was so close to falling into the same abyss. I fucked her like she was the only thing anchoring me to the earth. I cursed and shuddered as the tension built, and I trembled uncontrollably. The release was overwhelming, a wave that crashed over me and left me feeling hollowed out and struggling to catch my breath. My chest rose and fell rapidly as I lay there, spent and panting.
I collapsed over her, kissing the sweat-slickened curve of her spine. We stayed fused together, chest to back, the aftershocks rippling through us both.
I stood and eased out of Holland, and she turned toward me. She kissed me—desperate, hungry, tasting herself on my tongue. She bit my bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, and I laughed into her mouth. Pain meant she was real and not a fucking hallucination. I loved her so fucking much it scared me. I wanted to burrow inside her again, take up residency in her body, never let the world outside touch us again.
Her hand crept down to my cock, half-hard and sticky, and she stroked me back to life with lazy pulls. I moaned as she hopped onto the edge of the counter and guided me back into her. We moved together, slow now, a dance instead of a battle. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pressed her forehead to mine. She was trembling, still coming down, but her eyes never left mine.
“My monster,” she whispered.
I nodded. “Always.”
There was a sound in the hallway—the front door opening, then Ella called into the house. “Holland? Kip?”
Holland smiled, unfazed, and kept riding me, never looking away. We finished together, silent and secret, a truce in the ruins of the kitchen. When she climbed off me, she pulled up her pants but left the cross on the counter, smeared with both of us. She looked back, tossed her hair, and smirked.
“Hey, Ella. We’ll be out in a minute.”
“Take your time,” Ella responded, a hint of laughter in her voice.
We hurried to the bathroom to clean up before we saw our friend.
“You’ll be in good hands,” I said before brushing my teeth with the extra toothbrush I’d found in one of the drawers.
“Let me know about your mother.”
After we freshened up, I kissed her. We headed to the living room, where Ella had made herself comfortable on the couch.
“I need to run. Holland can fill you in.” I kissed Holland one more time. “Thanks, Ella. I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. We’re family. Go take care of business.” She smiled at me.
I nodded once before I turned to leave.
Holland grounded me. Calmed the monster. And now I was walking away with blood on my hands and fire in my chest—because we all knew the Pied Piper was out there. Watching. Waiting. And if he made his move while I was gone? I’d sacrifice every last piece of myself if it meant she’d come home again.
I returned to the kitchen and picked up the cross. I debated washing Holland’s mark off it, but I didn’t. Instead, I reattached the necklace, the heavy metal kissing my chest—still warm from her, like a brand. A warning. A prayer.
Let the next monster come. I was fucking ready.
41
KIP
As I pulled into Mother’s driveway, an uneasy knot twisted in my stomach, churning like sour milk left out too long. The air felt heavy, and the once pristine paint on the house seemed to sag under the weight of years of memories. If she wasn’t already gone, I would turn my back and walk away once more, but the need for closure anchored me here, urging me to deal with what had been left unresolved.
The hinge on my car door squeaked as I opened it, breaking the eerie silence as I climbed out. My tennis shoe crunched into the gravel while I locked up. Slowly, I made my way up the sidewalk and to the front entrance. I unlocked it, then let myself in. The place was hot, suffocating. Not only had Holland and I moved all the life-supporting machines, but I’d also turned off the air conditioning before I’d left.
The floorboard creaked beneath my weight as I walked down the hall to Mother’s room. My pulse stammered against my neck as I pushed open her door, my attention sweeping the room before it landed on her.
Mother’s face twisted in a silent scream; her mouth still open like she’d called for help that never arrived. The room smelled of rot, urine, death, and karma.
