Page 36 of Downfall

“Cut me!” I cry. It was on the tip of my tongue since I noticed his scars. He’s exactly the right person to play out this fantasy with.

I peek over my shoulder and am met with his dark gaze, his usually jade green eyes now olive. “What did you say?” he murmurs.

Turning toward him and meeting him chest-to-chest on my knees, I brush my fingers over the scars on his side. His head falls back on a groan, and I repeat, “Cut me, demon. Make me bleed while you fuck me.”

“Back on all fours.” I scramble to do as he says as he opens the drawer on his nightstand, pulling out a matte black knife and flipping it open with a flick of his wrist.

Settling behind me again, he leans over me, kissing my neck, then down my spine, following the soft caress of his lips with the sharp point of the blade. Not enough to cut, or even scratch, just enough that I can feel it on my skin.

Spreading my thighs wide, he bends, thrusting his tongue into my pussy. His tongue and lips lick and suck until I’m on the edge. My orgasm is just within reach when he pulls back, sinking his fingers deep inside me as he slices into my hip.

“Fuck, Kolson!” I scream, the euphoric high of his blade pushing me off the cliff. I start to slump forward, but Kolson catches me with his hands on my hips. Thrusting his rock hard dick into me, he digs his fingers into my fresh wound, making me see stars.

And a minute later, I’m falling again, my demon spilling inside me.

I sag forward, spent and sated. I never imagined it would be like that; the euphoric high was unimaginable.

Picking me up bridal style, Kolson carries me into the bathroom and sets me gently on the counter. He cages me in with his hands set on either side of me, looking at me in awe before planting his lips on mine in a sweet, soothing kiss.

“You’re amazing, siren. I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

I smile, a bit dazed and sleepy. “Thank you. For everything,” I reply. The past twenty-four hours have been nothing short of magical, and I can’t imagine that it gets any better than this.

Snuggling into Kolson’s warmth, my chest against his, he strokes my hair, holding me close with an arm around my waist. He’s careful to avoid my cuts as he trails kisses across my forehead, down my cheek, and on my neck.

He moves away for a moment to turn on the shower, then lifts me again to carry me in. Setting me on my feet in the large, steamy space, he gets to work washing and conditioning my hair, combing my tangles with his fingers. As he smooths a washcloth lathered with my favorite peach-scented body wash over my skin, he’s careful to wash my lower back gently, falling to his knees to kiss away the lingering soreness.

Setting me on the tile bench to one side of the shower stall, he washes himself quickly, then turns off the water and grabs us fluffy, warm towels. He towel-dries my hair and wraps me up, lifting me back onto the counter to apply gauze to my back.

By the time we slide back into his bed, I’m exhausted. Sleep takes me as soon as my head hits the pillow, all thoughts of my stalker and ever being without Kolson forgotten.

Chapter 31

Abby

Thesunisn’tevenup, and the smell of bacon and coffee forces me awake. Without opening my eyes, I slide my arm to the side, feeling for Kolson, but finding cold sheets instead. It’s summer, so the only obligation I have outside of the Fox Hole is teaching a ballet workout class to a handful of women at the senior center on Thursday afternoons. Even during the school year, I schedule my classes as late as possible. Sighing, I throw the covers off and climb out of bed before I can convince myself to stay forever.

Wearing only one of his t-shirts, I pad down the short hallway from Kolson’s bedroom in search of him. I find him at the kitchen island eating his breakfast, but I don’t expect to find a woman in his kitchen, as well.

I turn around as soon as I spot her, intending to get some more clothes on, but Kolson jumps off his barstool and is grabbing my wrist before I make it back to his bedroom door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmurs in my ear, wrapping his arms tight around my waist.

“To put on some pants!” I whisper-shout. “You could have warned me that someone else would be here this morning,” I complain, as he chuckles.

“That’s just Mary. She’s dying to meet you, and she won’t care what you are—or aren’t—,” he says suggestively, raising an eyebrow, “wearing.”

“And who is ‘Mary’?”

“My housekeeper. She cooks, cleans, does the laundry. But she’s also just like the mom I never had.” He releases my waist and hauls me over to the kitchen by my hand.

I’m still wearing just his shirt, no panties, and Kolson is already dressed in dark gray suit pants with a navy button-up shirt neatly tucked into them. I am more than uncomfortable as I walk carefully to meet his pseudo mother with my thighs clenched together.

“Mary, meet Abby.” Kolson grins at me as Mary bounds over to me. Her energy at this ungodly hour is contagious, and I can only hope it’s because she makes extremely strong coffee. She’s probably in her mid-fifties, her shoulder-length blonde hair mixed with gray, but artfully highlighted to hide them well. Her piercing blue eyes take me in, but I never see judgment on her face, only joy, as she grabs my face with both hands.

“This is the Abby I’ve heard so much about! I am so happy to finally meet you and see this smile on Kolson’s face,” she says, looking up at him with reverence. “I’ve seen him almost every day for the past two years, and his eyes only light up when he talks about one thing: you.”

I smile at her, blushing from her declaration. “It’s really nice to meet you, too, although I’ll be honest: I didn’t know about you until two minutes ago.”

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