44. Not to Touch the Earth

44

NOT TO TOUCH THE EARTH

DAISY

He's here.

The headlights of his car shine through the branches and greenery that I'm hiding behind, giving me the signal. I stay still for a little while longer, hearing his car door slam closed. The night air around us is pitch black and crispy with a cold breeze, and he's holding a flashlight, aiming it in front of him to see through the trees.

Just like I know that he's here, he also knows that I am. He knows I can see him, and for this, he aims the flashlight at his own face, showing me that he's wearing his scary mask, just like I told him to. The one with the glassy white eyes, devil's horns and green skin. With a smile that curls up to the underside of its eyes, and blackened, sharp teeth that remind me of icepicks. He's also wearing his leather coat, the one he only wears for his kills to disguise his muscled physique. I can't see him too clearly, but I think that he's wearing his black gloves as well.

He's wearing the entire ensemble, just for me.

On high alert, he keeps watching the darkness. I quietly slip away, disappearing further into the woods. When I feel like there's enough distance between us, I blow my lips to make a loud whistle.

I can't see him anymore, but I know he has heard it. When I see the flashlight flicker in the distance, I run.

The truth has finally come out. And it was beautiful. He knows that I see him for who he is, even the darkness, and that it will not scare me away.

We're it for each other. Tonight I have finally shown him that. And he believes me, otherwise he would not have come here.

The fallen leaves rustle as I crush them with my leather boots and I expertly jump over each branch that's in my way, even though I can't see for shit without any light.

I'll make the chase fun for us both by dragging it out, even though I just want him to catch me and fuck me into the ground.

I duck underneath some branches that stick out in my path, heading for a maze of tall trees. The dark green pine tickles my skin as I escape between them, disappearing completely out of sight.

I'm pretty fit and in shape because I go almost everywhere on my skates, but after about five minutes of straight-up running, I'm panting, my legs desperate for a break. Running is far more intense than skating, apparently.

"I know you're there, little nymph," a clear, familiar voice slithers through the night air. "I can smell you."

My body tenses, goosebumps trailing a long path over my skin as I stay completely still.

Fuck me sideways . I'm so fucked in the head. Because why in the hell does that notion turn me on? He can smell me? He truly is a predator.

And he's starved.

For me.

I'm wearing a flowy dress with only a pair of panties underneath, because I wanted to make sure he has easy entry when he finally catches me.

The sound of his shoes crushing twigs and dried leaves comes closer and my heart is damn near pounding in my throat. I'm about ninety-nine percent sure that he's going to fuck me and be mine forever. But there's just one percent left that has me reminding myself that this is the Sculptor of Death. The killer whose top priority has always been keeping his anonymity.

He might want me―the threat―gone. But that's the thing―I'm no longer his only threat. There's another killer in Desdemona Hill who knows who Lester truly is, just like I do.

I might be the only one who can help him discover who the copycat is, because there's no one in the world who knows more about Lester Gilbert than me.

"Are you going to kill me?" I ask, trying to raise my voice enough for him to hear. "Will you turn me into art just like your victims?"

A sinister chuckle fills the brisk air, and I swear that I hear the wildlife around me choke up and silence themselves. Cicadas and crickets stop singing. Birds halt their chirping. The foxes and squirrels that I know are here retreat to their hiding places, despite this being the time of night they get to roam around freely.

They can feel the danger.

"I don't need to turn you into anything, Daisy." He's not trying to keep quiet as he comes nearer. He wants to know that he's close and ready to catch me. "You already are a piece of art. A masterpiece."

The pine of the tree beside me rustles so close to me that I can feel them on my skin, and that's when I decide it's time to get the hell out.

Turning around, I jump over a fallen tree trunk as I escape the maze of trees, making my way back onto a clear path. Running as fast as I can to create some distance between us, I hear him raise his voice behind me. "You can run, angel. But you'll never be able to get away from me."

A smile curls my lips upward and I slow down enough to look back over my shoulder. The bright flashlight burns my eyes and I cringe, squeezing my eyes shut to ease the pain.

"Seems like you still haven't listened, Sculptor of Death," I yell, a manic laugh following out of my throat as I turn around completely, halting my steps. "I don't want to get away from you. I just want to be yours. Forever."

The man with the terrifying mask comes closer, taking large steps to cover the distance between us. "If that's true, why did you run?"

"Because I know you," I answer confidently. "I know that monster inside of you likes the hunt. And I'm more than happy to play the innocent prey, even though you now know that I'm a monster all the same." I bend over to grab the hem of my skirt, lifting it up to show him my bloodied thigh, where our joined initials are carved into my flesh.

His flashlight moves to the spot of bare skin.

"I might not have the same murderous urges, but I do turn into a crazed brute when it comes to you, Lester Gilbert."

He completely halts his steps as he stares at me through the white eyes of his frightening mask. I can't see his expression, but I think I have an idea of the emotions that play over his face.

"You're mine, Daisy. All fucking mine." A chuckle escapes him. "You're out of your mind. But so am I. All I want from this day forward is to be our best and worst selves, together."

My lower lips trembles, and I nearly fall on my ass as I stumble backward when he comes closer.

"The only touch I ever want to feel on my skin is yours, Arcadia. The only thing I want to have wrapped around my cock is your heavenly cunt. The only smile I want to see when I wake up in the morning is yours." He takes a deep breath, as if he still can't believe how he's able to feel this much. "Yours, yours, yours. I need everything from you. All to myself."

Tears leak out of my eyes as I stand frozen in the middle of the small clearing as the man I've loved for so long finally tells me what I want to hear, the words touching me like a soft caress. I force away the emotions that claw up my throat like a poisonous vine and tilt my chin upward instead, the corner of my lip curling up. "Catch me then, Professor. And you've got yourself a deal."

Quicker than my eyes can keep up with, I turn around and sprint away. I take large steps despite the shortness of my legs, almost jumping through the air from the speed.

He's faster than me, though. He's bigger and smarter and better, a hunter through and through.

I let him catch me.

His hand curls around my arm, pulling me back against his chest as we fall to the ground together. His large frame crowds over my frail body, and we roll around in the dirt until he has me right where he wants me. Right where I want to be.

Grabbing my wrists tightly with his gloved hands, he forces them beside my head. "Got you," he grunts. His leather coat covers us like a blanket, as if it's hiding us from the other monsters that reside in the forest.

"You've got me," I repeat the notion, my mouth evolving into a smirk. "Promise me that you won't let me go."

"I promise." He moves my wrists above my head, then holds them tight in one hand before his free one trails down my body. Taking the tip of a gloved finger between his teeth, he yanks it off before throwing it to the side. Lifting my skirt up and moving my panties to the side, his fingers trail over my bare pussy. "Not even if you beg me to."

He lets out a satisfied hum that has me fucking salivating. I have never heard a better sound than Lester's voice. Sorry, David Gilmour, but you've been replaced.

"Getting chased through the woods by a murderer gets you soaking wet, angel." He forcefully pushes two fingers inside of me up until the knuckle, yanking them back out before I get the chance to enjoy it. "You were right. We were made for each other."

"I'm always right." I let out a giggle that's mixed with a desperate whimper. "Can you handle dealing with my smart mouth all the time? It might tire you out, old man."

As soon as he frees himself from the confines of his jeans, he thrusts inside of me all the way, not caring about stretching me first.

I scream out as the pain of his giant length and girth hit me deep inside, but my pain only makes him laugh, the sound of it laced with evil intent. "I can just shut you up with a pretty ball gag. I've got a black one with your name on it. Problem solved."

That thought makes butterflies erupt in my stomach.

He keeps his cock inside my pussy to the hilt, and I stare up at his mask in awe. It's beautiful, but I know the face underneath it is even more so.

I moan as I wiggle beneath him, desperate for the friction. I need him to fuck me, but he stays completely still. "I can't believe that this is the outcome of tonight. I can't believe that I'm not dead," I choke out. "I'm still not entirely sure that this is not just a dream. Please, Lester. Fuck me. Make me feel alive."

"You're fucking mine, Daisy. This is not a dream. You don't need dreams when you're living them―isn't that what you said? I'll do my best to make every day worthy of your dreams from now on." The second it slips past his lips, filtering through the scary, black-teethed mask, he pulls out and slams back inside of me.

I burst out into sobs as those words stab into me like the sharp pricks of a needle. With furrowed eyebrows, I never once let my eyes waver or close as I watch his mask-clad face. I can't bear to lose even one precious second of this moment between us.

This is everything I've wanted for so long. Almost three years now. Over nine hundred days with him in my mind, endlessly taunting me by just existing.

I cry out as his thrusts become rougher and faster, his grip on my frail wrists tightening. He fucks me into the ground, and I can do nothing but lock my legs around his waist and take it. I take it with everything I've got, with all that I am.

"You're going to scream the birds out of the trees, angel," he grunts, a furiously attractive snicker leaving him at the same time.

"I don't give a flying fuck," I cry out. "Let them fly away and fuck off. The forest is ours now. I―ah!" My cries are the only audible sound around us as we make true on that notion.

"I want to see the real you now, Lester Gilbert." I arch my back to show him the urgency of that statement, because that's the only way I'm able to move. "Take off your mask and kiss me."

He doesn't, instead letting my wrists go so I can do it myself. Planting his hands beside my head, he keeps hovering over me, his thick cock still lodged inside its rightful place. Its home.

Reaching my hands up, I grab the sides of the handcrafted mask between my fingertips and slowly take it off. First his dark eyes become visible, then his strong nose and his delicious lips, until I see every inch of his perfectly sculpted face.

"You're so beautiful, Sculptor. Unlike anyone I've ever seen before. When I first laid eyes on you at that art show all that time ago, it was like I was in a trance. I decided right then and there that I was going to make you mine one day. I can't believe I actually pulled it off." I put the mask down on the ground beside us, the leaves and grass rustling beneath it.

"You can do anything you set your mind to, little nymph. You have more willpower than anyone I've ever met." He slams that statement home with another rough thrust as he looks deeply into my eyes.

"Kiss me," I let out on a cry, my eyes wet with tears. Slamming his lips against me, I moan into his mouth as his tongue finds mine. My arms circle his neck to pull him even closer and his muscled body nearly crushes me like a leaf.

I don't care, though. I've never felt safer.

We're sharing our madness. I'm in love with a killer and he has fallen for his stalker. What a match we are…

"You feel fucking incredible. I'll never get enough of you," he curses as he loses himself. "Look at me."

I stare up at him with dazed eyes as he disconnects his lips from mine. "There you are, angel," he croons, his rugged thrusts slowed to a gentler pace. "You're my girl now."

My heart breaks and heals all at once. "I'm your girl," I repeat. "All fucking yours."

He fucks me gently for a while longer, stealing kisses and smiles as our souls intertwine. But despite both of us having found a new love for lovemaking, I need him to fuck me so hard that he has to carry me to the car once he's done.

Tearing my lips away from his, I whimper, "Now fuck me like the Sculptor of Death. Wild, brutal, and uninhibited. Turn us into art."

A dark, malevolent snicker leaves him before he makes true on my demands, just like I knew he would. He always does.

He pulls out of me all the way, only to grab my ankles and bend them backward to my shoulders. It's a good thing I'm so bendy and flexible―otherwise the force of that movement would've snapped my legs in half. The tips of my boots touch the ground, and my ass lifts up along with them, presenting my pussy to him on a silver platter.

He holds me there with one hand pressing on my ankles and positions his cock against my eager pussy with his other. He doesn't waste another second before he slams inside of me all the way, making me scream. He does it over and over again, each thrust seeming to go even deeper. I swear I can feel him deep inside my stomach.

"You want my cum, little nymph? Want me to fill you up deep inside?" he asks breathlessly.

"Yes!" I cry out, losing my voice. "Yes, Lester. Please."

"I need yours first. Come for me, angel. And I'll give you what you need."

Nodding my head desperately, I dig my nails into the back of his neck so hard that I draw blood. I was already titillating on the edge of a soul-destroying orgasm, so just like that, I'm there.

This man has the power to make me come on demand. That's fucking talent right there. The way he directs my body so expertly should be on his resume.

"Ah! Ah, fuck! Yes!" The trees above us rustle as more wildlife fly and crawl away in response to my screams. I come so hard it's like I'm having an out-of-body experience, parts of me dying and springing to life all at once. The force of it is so intense that I burst out into sobs and try to bury my face in Lester's neck.

He doesn't let me hide, though. Instead, he grabs my throat with his free hand, forcing me to stare up at him. Lips slamming onto mine, he growls as he spills inside of me, filling me up completely. He splits my bottom lip with his teeth, continuing to kiss me as my blood mingles on our tongues. "You're everything to me, my Arcadia."