Chapter 10

Ethan

The black fog clouding my senses is slowly but surely dissolving. Every beat of my heart drums inside my skull as if someone were knocking against my temples. My eyes flutter open, my dimly lit surroundings blur, but a point directly in front of me keeps moving, back and forth. Blonde hair framing a face with red lips and pale skin. My vision begins to clear, and my senses trickle back in as a sudden burst of pleasure throbs between my legs, followed by a burning sting.

At the shock, my vision instantly clears and the image of Harlee appears in front of me, completely naked, her eyes closed as a soft moan slips from her lips. My gaze travels from her face, down her body, over the prominent collarbone, her round breasts swaying as she moves, across her flat stomach to where our hips connect.

The moment she rolls her hips back, riding down my cock, laying flat against my stomach, my eyes widen at the sight of a red and white striped object disappearing into the opening of my cock. A fucking candy cane? Aware of the cause of the sting, it intensifies and a painful yet pleasurable groan tears from my throat.

In an attempt to reach for her, my hands abruptly come to a halt against the restraints tied to the bed frame that holds me in place.

"Oh, look, you’re finally awake," she says between heavy breaths, followed by a low chuckle. My mouth falls open in a silent groan as she grinds her hips forward, up my length until the tip of my cock and the candy cane disappear between her folds and lock against her opening.

"What the hell are you doing?" I choke out, my voice hoarse.

"Giving you that weird sexual experience you thought I was doing with Richmond."

"How did you get the candy—" She rocks her hips backward before wrapping her fingers around my length and giving it a skillful pump, pulling a groan from the depths of my stomach.

"The urethra is surprisingly flexible. With enough lube, even a less experienced man can fit a candy cane. It also helped that you were unconscious. No annoying screams when I stretched you open."

"For fuck's sake," I grunt, throwing my head back into the sheets.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure it feels good," she says with a chuckle as she lowers herself between my legs and begins to pepper kisses from my abs, over my happy trail, to my cock. Her fingers wrap around the base of my length, giving me a lazy pump. My eyes widen at the sudden warm sensation of her tongue against the shaft of my cock, trailing up the length and over the curve of the candy that is snuck against my cock.

"Harlee," I let out a guttural groan as her lips part around the head and she takes me in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the crown. Every time she hits the candy, it shifts inside me, sending a wave of pain mixed with indescribable pleasure through my muscles. It shouldn't feel as good as it does. "God..." I blurt out and her reaction is immediate. She pulls her head back, her thumb landing on the candy cane and pressing down, drawing a painful gag from me as a wave of pain shoots from my cock through my entire body.

"There is no god here. I am your goddess and you will worship my name only," she threatens, and I can only nod in response, the words stuck in my throat. "Good boy," she praises, her fingers wrapping around my length again, pumping down to the base. Her mouth follows, the wet heat wrapping around me as she swallows me deeper into her throat.

My gaze is fixed on Harlee, her eyes looking back at me. Her red lips stretch beautifully around me. I gasp for air as suddenly the tip of the candy cane hits the back of her throat, pressing down on my cock, followed by her muscles contracting around the head. My hips stutter, the combination of the pain paired with the pleasure of her warm mouth wrapped around me and her hand at the base driving me to the edge at a speed I've never experienced before.

Wanting to touch her, I pull on the restraints again, twisting my wrists to find a loose spot to slip out, but she's done a damn good job. A groan rips from my throat as her tongue twirls around the head of my cock once more, moving to the top and suddenly pressing down on the candy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." I repeat like a mantra as my muscles stiffen and my hips begin to stutter under her touch.

"Not yet," her sing-song voice pulls me out of my haze, and the stimulation of her mouth and hand leaves me as she pushes herself to her knees. My eyes follow her every move as she spreads her legs and straddles my hips again, wrapping her fingers around my cock and flicking her thumb against the candy cane. The shift of it inside me sends another shock wave of pleasure through my muscles.

"Should we leave it in or take it out?" She looks at me with lustful eyes.

"Out." I raise my voice.

"Oh, really, why?" She runs her thumb along the curve, pressing down and pulling another painful moan out of me. "I have a feeling you'd enjoy a reverse release." She chuckles.

"No, come inside." I force the words out through the throbbing pain.

"Hm," she hums, running her thumb down the arch. "That does sound a lot better." My eyes widen as she brings her thumb to the end of the curve of the candy cane and pushes the stick up, slowly but surely sliding it out. My muscles relax with each torturous inch as the pressure is released from my cock.

Once the candy cane pops out, my body melts into the sheets and a wave of release washes over me. My eyes remain trained on Harlee as she swirls the candy in her fingers before bringing it to her lips, her tongue darting out, and she licks up the red and white stripe, humming in approval before she throws it aside and crawls up my body.

Her fingers wrap around my length again, holding me up, and the tip of my cock catches her opening. "You're going to be a good boy and let me keep using you, okay?" She glares at me, and I nod. As much as I wanted to kill her earlier, all I want to do now is please her. "Good," she says and lowers herself on top of me. Effortlessly, she parts around me, her wet warmth welcoming me as she settles down, easing me all the way inside her until she is sitting flush on top of me.

Her hands land on my stomach as her head lolls back, her lips parting in a moan. This time it feels more intimate, compared to when I fucked her in the hallway. We're alone, the house empty, the bedroom dimly lit. The only sounds breaking the Christmas Eve silence are the crackling fire in the fireplace, our heavy breathing, and the occasional moan that slips out of us.

I bathe in the sight of Harlee on top of me, the perfect image of a murderous goddess taking what she wants, and being inside her feels like heaven. My hips buck against her and she digs her sharp nails into my abs. Her head rolls forward, her hair falling over her shoulders. Without a word, she flattens her hands against my abs and rocks her hips back and forth, raising them slightly before bringing them down flush against mine. Her breasts sway with each movement, and I curse in my head, wanting nothing more than to touch them.

Once again, I pull at my restraints, but the air is knocked out of my lungs as she lifts her hips only to drop her weight back onto me. Refusing to close my eyes, I watch in awe as she picks up the pace, bouncing on top of me, her lips parted as the most melodic moan I’ve ever witnessed falls from her mouth.

One of her hands moves from my stomach to my face. "Spit on it," she demands through heavy breathing and my eyes land on her fingers in front of my mouth. As instructed, I collect a good amount of saliva on my tongue and spit into her hand. She then brings it between her legs and spreads my saliva over her clit. My attention remains transfixed on where we are joined, my cock gliding in and out of her while she places two fingers flat against herself and circles her clit.

Her moans, accompanied by my grunts each time she settles on top of me and the sound of our wet skin slapping against each other, fill the room. The festive atmosphere of Christmas is long forgotten.

My thigh muscles flex as her cunt grips me, pulsing around my length. Her rhythm turns more feverish, her movements less bold as she switches from bouncing up and down to grinding back and forth. Her whole body begins to tremble until she suddenly comes to a halt, her mouth hanging open as she screams in ecstasy, her muscles squeezing me tighter as her orgasm washes over her.

Desperate to touch her, I tear at my restraints again, and to my surprise, one of my feet slips out of the loop and the one around my right hand has also come loose. Not wasting a second, I free both of my hands while her body is still in shock.

The second I reach for her hips, my rough hands connecting with her smooth skin, her eyes fly wide open. "Wha—" I cut her off mid-word, tackling her into the sheets, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head with my right hand before my left grabs her ankle and bend her leg back before I start pounding into her, our bodies scooting back on the mattress at the impact.

I suck my lower lip between my teeth, enjoying the sensation of her cunt squeezing me in defense at the sudden twist of power, while her mouth hangs open as a series of screams tear from her throat.

"My goddess," I grunt, gripping her wrists tightly as I continue to pound into her with force. Her leg begins to shake in my grip as dry sobs sound from beneath me and she falls apart around me once more.

Without slowing down, I chase my orgasm. Each thrust inside her brings me closer and closer to the edge until I topple over. Buried all the way inside her, I let go and allow my eyes to fall shut as I savor the sensation of every beat of my length against her tight muscles, pumping my load into her, eager to fill her once again with my seed.

When I open my eyes again, I find her icy blue ones, hazy from her orgasm, staring up at me, her lips slightly ajar as her chest heaves from heavy breathing.

As soon as the throbbing of my length fades and I begin to soften, I slip out of her, letting go of her wrists and collapsing onto the bed beside her, gasping for air.

My head whips in her direction as she lifts my arm, slips in, and curls up at my side, one arm and leg draped over me as she rests her head in the crook of my shoulder, her hot breath hovering over my chest. I wrap both my arms around her and hold her close, planting a kiss on the top of her head as her body melts into mine. She buries her face in my skin, her shoulders rising and falling with a deep breath. Then I close my eyes and cherish every second of this moment.

Eventually, I glance at the clock on the bedside table, catching the red glow of numbers. It's 4 a.m., later than I'd like—and we don't have a lot of time to waste. I inhale deeply, holding onto this feeling for just a second longer before I clear my throat.

"Harlee..." I break the comforting silence. Even though I want nothing more than to spend the rest of the night in bed with her, to make sure she will be mine, it is too risky to stay. We've already overstayed our welcome and should be on our way before the first rays of sunlight light up the city.

"Hm?" she muses, her fingers tracing lazy circles across my chest.

I run my hand down her back. "We have to go," I say, quietly but firm. "It's getting late."

She sighs, the sound a mixture of contentment and disappointment. "Already?" Her voice is soft, a pout on her lips as she tilts her head to look at me, her eyes half-lidded and seductive.

"Yeah." I brush a strand of hair from her face, my thumb lingering on her cheek, and for a second, I almost reconsider. "I'll drive you home. You get the blood and I'll take care of the body. Just like we agreed." I offer her a faint smile.

She lets out another sigh but doesn't argue, her hand slowly running over my chest before she sits up, raising her arms and stretching her limbs. I follow her, sitting up before swinging my legs off the bed, grabbing my clothes, and starting to put them back on. She slips out of bed right after me, moving around the room as she picks up her clothes and gets dressed.

Once dressed, I head for the bathroom, where our victim still hangs in the air. His skin is now pale and dull while the bucket of blood beneath him is full, the glossy surface reflecting the light of the bathroom. I waste no time in unstrapping the body and wrapping it in the sheets of the bed drenched in our fluids. I then carry the body to my car and secure it in the trunk. Harlee emerges moments later, cradling the bucket of blood, now covered by a matching lid, and stores it safely in the car.

While she settles into the passenger seat, I head back into the house, scanning the rooms as I consider my next steps. No visible fingerprints. The man is wrapped in the sheets, which are covered with other evidence of our bodies. We've been careful, but that's only half the job. I move through the house, making sure the doors and windows are tightly shut, sealing the place up like a trap. I then make my way to the kitchen, turn the knobs on the stove with a quick flick of my wrist, and the gas begins to fill the air. Within minutes, it will be everywhere, collecting in the air like an invisible blanket. I take a small candle and place it near the stove. I pull my lighter from my pocket and flick it on. The flame catches quickly, small but bright, and I light the candle.

And like that, I’m out of the house. Once I’m back in the car, I start the engine, the road stretching out before us. Without needing any directions, I drive back to the heart of the city, to the neighborhood where Harlee is living, until the car comes to a halt in one of the parking lots outside the building.

"So you know where I live too?" She looks at me with raised eyebrows.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg," I say, opening the driver's door, getting out and walking over to her side, making sure no traffic is coming before I pull her door open, help her out, and head to the back to grab the bucket.

Together, we walk up the narrow stairs to her apartment and into the attached art studio. She flips the light switch, and the bright overhead light illuminates the room. The walls are lined with canvases in various stages of completion, their surfaces splashed with different shades of red. I place the container on a metal table in the middle of the room and look around at her work.

She watches me, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Admiring the view?" she asks, her voice a little quieter than before.

"Which? You or your paintings?" I answer with a half-smile, and she rolls her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitches as she fights the smile. She meets me in the middle of the room, wraps her arms around my stomach, and plants a fleeting kiss on my lips. I drop my hands to her hips and let her slowly but surely lead me back to the door.

"We should do this again sometime," I say, keeping my tone soft, but with a hint of seriousness in my words. "Make it a... holiday tradition." I lean in and plant a kiss on her lips.

She raises an eyebrow. "A tradition? That sounds dangerously close to something serious, Ethan."

Her lips curl in a way I know is meant to tease me.

I grin and watch as she tilts her head slightly. "Something serious?" I murmur, pulling her a little closer. "I wouldn't mind."

She rolls her eyes, not quite hiding the flicker of interest in them. "We'll see, Mr. Reid." She uses my last name again instead of my first. "You'll have to keep things interesting if you want me back. A girl needs... a little more than you offered me tonight, but it was a good start."

I lift a hand and brush my fingers along the corner of her mouth, tracing the outline of her lips. "Trust me, Harlee," I say in a low voice, "you'll be counting the days next year."

"Is that so?" She tilts her head, her lips curving into a soft smile, her eyes a little softer as she looks back at me. "Looks like you didn't learn your place tonight."

"You're welcome to remind me again," I say, leaning in just enough for our breaths to mingle.

She meets me halfway, planting a fleeting kiss on my lips before pulling away first, her hands falling to my chest with a faint yawn that she can barely hide. "All right, big guy. You've got a year to come up with something."

I nod, letting my hands drift away as I straighten up. "Consider it a challenge," I reply, half turning toward the door.

Her fingers curl into the fabric of my jacket and she pulls me back, rising to her toes and planting another fleeting kiss on my lips, the teasing glint in her eyes still visible as she stares into mine. "Merry Christmas, Ethan," she whispers against my lips before pulling away.

"Merry Christmas, Harlee," I reply, lingering on the threshold for one last second before turning away and stepping out into the early morning.

She may think it will take a year, but she’s wrong— I won’t need that long. By the end of next year, she will already be mine. She can pretend all she wants but now every glance, every step she takes—it’s all leading her to me. I’ll carve myself so deeply into her life that she won’t remember a time without me.