Chapter 10

Once we’re inside the bedroom, I hear the door click behind me, followed by the sinister sound of the lock snicking. I gather my courage and self-control and turn to Oliver, arms crossed over my chest. “Don’t stop talking on my account. Or did we come in here so you can laugh at me some more in private?” Blinding white fury still courses through me, roaring in my ears. “You owe me an explanation, Oliver. No more games. No more bullshit. This is the literal least you can do for me. You owe me this.” I step closer to him, personal space a foreign concept to me now. “What, do you want me to beg?” I’ve never been the kind of girl to beg for something, but for this, I would absolutely stoop that low.

Oliver’s eyes are steady on me; unlike before, though, when he looked angry and seductive, now he just looks… lost. Scared. Confused. He lets out a sigh that comes from deep within his chest. “Dani, I’m sorry I couldn’t be who you wanted me to be before I left. I’m sorry I betrayed you and your trust. I’m so fucking sorry.” He’s earnest now, sincere. The malice from before is gone. Was it a facade? Or is this sincere Oliver, the one that reminds me so much of my Oliver, the lie? I’m so confused, and what he says next only makes me more so. “There’s so much I want to tell you, but I can’t. Not yet,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “There’s something wrong with me. Even when things were great, I knew that something was so fucking wrong with me. Something deep inside me. It was always there, lingering. That night, I couldn’t fight it anymore.” His voice is rough as he says, “I fucked up so bad, Dani.”

“Enough with the cryptic bullshit!” I snap. “Just, for once, I need you to tell me the truth. All of it, not these ominous little half-truths you keep dropping. ” I think about the day I caught Oliver in bed with Hannah. The day my whole life changed. “I never got closure. For any of it. Why you cheated, what was so wrong with me that you wanted to cheat on me, why you left without a word, why you could abandon me so easily. Whether I am actually that replaceable. You broke me apart. After everything, even knowing you were the problem, you still destroyed me. I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I whisper. Being able to finally admit that out loud feels like a sweet release. “And now, you’re finally here, and you give me nothing.” I meet and hold his stare.

He looks like he’s in pain, like I’m striking something within him. Oliver did always hate when I cried, because it made him want to destroy whatever hurt me. Given his expression now, it looks like that, at least, hasn’t changed. Good. I want him to hurt. I want him to feel all of my anguish. All of this torment.

“No matter what you think you know about what happened that day, what you saw… that’s not even half of it. You don’t know fucking anything about what went down that day.” He breathes in deeply, composing himself, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. When he finally brings his head back down, I recognize the look of pain in his eyes. It’s the same one I see each day in the mirror. Brittle. Broken. “Let me reassure you of this, Danica. I have always, and will always, love you. No matter what I’ve done or what I will do. Never forget those words.” He gives me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. His hand reaches out towards me like he needs to touch me, but before he can make contact, his fingers curl back into his fist, and his arm drops back to his side. “You are the light in my darkness, pet. My shadows dance in your very presence. Even my blood sings when I’m near you now. And you, you were always supposed to be the one to drag my bleeding soul out of his grip.” Oliver gasps suddenly and clutches at his chest as if those words cause him deep pain. He’s breathing heavily, clutching at his shirt in the same way I did my own in the main area.

With tears rolling down my cheeks, I reach out a trembling hand to touch him. “What can’t you tell me?” My breathing is shaking and uneven, but I push forward. I ask the question that has been haunting me since he vanished. “Was any part of you and me real? Was it easy to leave me behind?”

In the blink of an eye, Oliver has me pinned against the wall, hands cupping my face. He’s pressed against me so tightly, I can feel every part of him, along the entire length of my body. His warm breath mists across my face. “I want to tell you everything, even though I can’t. If I told you what lurks out there in the dark, you would fucking wish you had never asked, never begged me for answers.”

He’s too close. This is too much. If we stay locked in place like this, I won’t be able to resist him, no matter how much he hurt me. Placing my hands on his chest, I try to push out of his hold, and he, of course, doesn’t move an inch. At least not in the direction I want him to move.

Oliver growls, his hips driving into my stomach, forcing me further into the wall. Even after everything, my body still responds to his, melting into him a little bit—against all of my express wishes. I dart my eyes away, hoping against all hope that he doesn’t see the desire flaring deep in me.

“To answer your bloody question, pet,” he sneers. He shakes my head slightly with his hands, forcing my gaze back to him. “No, it wasn’t fucking easy to leave you behind, and I didn’t do it willingly. I’ve dragged myself through hell, quite fucking literally, to get back to you. You don’t know the things I’ve done and all the things I would do just to get back to you. So when you ask me if it’s real? Believe me, Danica, every single goddamn second of it was real.” His grip is tight on my face, but it doesn’t need to be. I’m not going anywhere because this is the realest that he’s been with me since I woke up on this cursed bus. “I’ve been a prisoner for years, a slave to hunger and desires you can’t even begin to comprehend. Trust me when I say-”

That word. Trust. That one word sets me off, and I cut him off. “TRUST you? That’s fucking hilarious. I can’t believe a word coming out of your mouth. You lied to me. Cheated on me! I don’t want to fucking hear any more of your pretty lies or your words, dancing around what is real. You know what I think?”

He tilts his head slightly, his gaze piercing me, radiating anger.

“I think you’re a fucking coward.” I bite out, enjoying watching the tic in his jaw at my accusation. “You were a dick when you cheated on me. You were an asshole when you left me without a trace. And you’re a goddamn coward now since you actually have me in your arms and still can’t come clean. So FUCK you, Oliver.” I’m shouting at him now, my whole body shaking with the force of my anger. “I’m so fucking done with you, Oli! If you can’t give me one ounce of truth after everything we’ve been through together, everything we’ve meant to each other, then all you fucking deserve from me is my rage. Fuck off, Oliver!” I spit in his face, an unexpected, uncontrolled moment that almost makes me feel ashamed. Almost.

Oliver removes a hand from my face to wipe the spit off of his with two fingers. With a wicked smile, he then forces the two fingers inside my mouth, so far back that it makes me gag. “If that’s how you want it to be, pet, then I’m happy to oblige.” The two fingers inside my mouth stroke along my tongue, and without a second thought, I bite down on them. Hard.

He lets out a loud groan. “Fuck, my sweet Danica is out for my blood.” He rips his fingers from my mouth and turns them to his own, licking my spit and his blood from them before he leans in to me to whisper, “Do you want to hurt me, pet? Do you want to show me all the sinfully violent parts of you that you hide from the world?” He inhales deeply. “God, I’m so fucking hard just thinking about you tasting my blood. I want your violence. I want every part of you: the good, the bad, and the wickedly brutal parts. And I want to be inside of you in every conceivable way. You taking my cock in that sweet little cunt of yours while you drink from me.” He presses his hips harder, grinding his hard dick into me, lifting one of my legs to wrap around his waist so he can nestle between my legs.

Fuck, he feels so goddamn good. No. No, bad, Dani! I push against his chest, but he’s too strong. No matter how hard I try to force him away, he won’t budge. “I fucking hate you! I hate you, Oliver!” I cry out, thrashing against his body.

He grabs ahold of my hands, pinning them above my head. Both of us are breathing heavily as we stare at each other. And then he smirks again. That stupid smirk will be my undoing. I know it, and I hate myself a little bit for the knowledge, as my body melts against his. Everything in my mind is screaming at me that this is wrong. I shouldn’t want this. But, fuck, I want it so badly. I try to take the reins of my lust, saying one last time, “I fucking hate you, Oliver Shaw.” But my voice is breathy when I say it, and I don’t even believe myself.

“Is my sweet little pet lying to me?” His grip on my wrists tightens, almost cutting off the circulation to my arms. It should hurt, but instead, pure pleasure races through me, and I can’t stop a gasp from slipping out through my lips.

I know what’s going to happen. I’ve known it since that moment he pinned me against the wall, if I’m being honest with myself. And I’m definitely going to regret this night later, but I’ve been deprived of him for far too long. I want him to touch me everywhere. I need him to make me hurt, and I need to make him hurt in return. I want to fucking feel alive again, and Oliver Shaw is the only one who made me feel that. “I said I fucking hate you, and I meant it!” I snarl into his face.

His hand that grips my thigh trails up my leg until he reaches for the button of my jeans. “You may think you hate me, pet, but I know you still want me.”

I shake my head desperately, but my hips already tilt towards him.

“I can find out right now if you are lying to me, Dani.” In one seamless motion, he unbuttons and unzips my jeans.

Using the leg still wrapped willingly around his waist, I drag him closer. It should be impossible for my body to feel hate and desire at the same time. But it’s not, and once he discovers how drenched I am for him, this will spiral even more out of control.

His hand slides with ease underneath my lace underwear, groaning when he discovers my lies. “You are so fucking wet for me, pet,” he growls as he rubs my sensitive clit slowly in tight, agonizing strokes.

I arch into his touch with a breathy moan. “Fuck you, Oliver.”

“You don’t have to beg me, pet. Believe me when I say I’m going to fuck you tonight. But first, I need to taste that sweet pussy and feel you come against my tongue.” He slips one finger inside of me, thrusting in and out slowly. My lips part at the familiar feeling of Oliver finger fucking me. With a ravenous groan, he nips my lower lip. “Only once you’ve come all over my face am I going fuck you the way you deserve, so I can watch as you come on my cock. I want to watch you come undone before I fill you up with my cum, because you, Danica Gray, are mine. You’ve always been mine, and tonight, I’m going to remind you of that fucking fact.” He growls against my lips right before he kisses me.

I forgot what it was like to kiss Oliver sometime in the last two years. It may have been the trauma of losing him so suddenly, but I spent the better part of two years trying not to think about what it felt like to have his mouth on mine. But, when he takes my lips, it all comes flooding back. His kiss is unforgiving and rough, so deep I can’t catch my breath. I’m completely lost in this feeling. Lost to this moment.

I part my lips, our tongues tangling violently the second I do so. He adds a second finger inside of me, thrusting harder and faster, hooking his fingers to find that sweet spot. I’m riding dangerously close to coming apart, my body filled with hateful desire. My breathing quickens, my moans growing louder with each thrust of his finger, with each lick of his tongue in my mouth.

Oliver slides his fingers out of me and rips his mouth away from mine. “Not yet, greedy girl. I told you I’m going to make you come on my tongue first, and I fucking meant it. I’m going to prove to you I can be a man of my word. You’ll not make a liar out of me again, just because your tight little pussy doesn’t want to let go of my fingers.” With his hips bracketed against my own, he licks my arousal off his fingers, groaning loudly.

“Prove it to me then. Prove that you’re not lying to me now.” I shove against his chest, but this time, he lets me push him away. In seconds, he’s stripping my clothes off, until I’m standing completely naked before him.

Oliver’s eyes glint with desire as he tugs me back into him, his lips meeting mine once more. I kiss him back with fury, biting and sucking his lips hard enough to bruise, possibly cut. I want him to hurt. Fuck him for making me feel this way. I grip his arms, digging my nails into his skin as hard as I can. His skin gives under my fingernails, the coppery tang of blood scenting the air, but it doesn’t deter him. If anything, it just makes him kiss me more fiercely.

His hands cup my ass, lifting me in the air so both legs wrap around his waist. I’m grinding my wet pussy onto his shirt, desperate for any contact I can get. My body is overwhelmed with so much need for him, but there’s still so much anger, too. If he won’t give me the truth, then he’ll damn well give me this.

He squeezes my ass so tight that I’m sure I’ll be bruised tomorrow, but I couldn’t care less about the pain. In fact, I welcome it.

Growling deep in his throat, he lifts me away from him so there’s a few inches between where I’m trying to grind against him. “Such a bad girl. So fucking desperate to come.” Turning, he throws me onto the bed hard enough that I bounce. “Now let me see that pretty pussy of yours, pet.” His eyes are glazed over with lust, narrowed on me like I’m all he can see. Like, all he wants to see is me.

The Oliver that I remember was never much of a dirty talker, but I can admit that I am strangely into it now. This is one change I can accept.

Shifting to my back, I spread my legs slightly. Oliver moves closer to the bed and stands above me, watching me like a predator would its prey. Like he’s going to devour me. Fuck, that look is absolutely intoxicating. I’ve never wanted something as badly as I want him in between my legs, making me come just for him. I open my legs wider, baring myself completely to him.

His lips part at the sight of me laid open before him. “Mine,” he growls, gripping my legs and tugging me so that my ass is at the edge of the bed. His face is taut with desire as he sinks in front of me, forcing my legs wider to make space for his broad shoulders.

“I’m not fucking yours!” I scream at him.

He chuckles and licks my inner thigh reverently. “That would be a lot more convincing, pet if I didn’t hear your heart pounding in your chest. If I couldn’t feel your blood rushing to your pussy. You think you’re free of me, but every perfect inch of you is fucking mine.” Sharp teeth nibble on my thigh, teasing me so dangerously close to my core that I can almost feel his breath on my pussy.

“What are you-” My words are lost to me as his mouth drops to my pussy, his tongue flicking violently over my throbbing clit. All conscious thought leaves my mind as he devours me. I let out a strangled moan, my hands dropping to fist his hair, my legs wrapping around his head. I want him closer. I need to feel him everywhere.

Oliver groans into me as he eats me out, licking and sucking on my sensitive bud. I gasp sharply when he slips two fingers deep inside of me, hooking them at the perfect angle to hit my G-spot. With a few powerful thrusts and a small nip at my clit, my body falls over the edge, convulsing in sweet release, my orgasm pouring out of me. I’m screaming his name, legs clamping around his ears, pussy clenching around his fingers. He’s still fingering me, still has his face buried between my legs, as I scream my way through the hottest orgasm I’ve had since… well, since Oliver. Fuck, I hate him.

With his head still between my legs, he lifts his face, licking my cum from his fingers before he swipes his tongue over his lips, gathering up the last of me spread over his mouth. I’m still trembling beneath him when he finally looks up at me with a feral grin. “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Oh, now I’m your baby? You’re delusional if you think I’m anything to you!” He backs off the bed and laughs breathily before ripping his hoodie over his head to reveal his toned chest. I’m still coming down from the most intense orgasm of my life, but I find myself gasping, desperate to have him inside me. No! I can’t give him that power. With a whimper, I cry, “I hate you!” at him. He laughs. Why wouldn’t he? Even I don’t believe me anymore.

“You love my cock though, don’t you?” He drops his pants, revealing beautifully tattooed skin and no boxers. His cock springs free, and he strokes it absently. “I know you remember how my cock feels lodged deep inside your sweet cunt. And, with how wet your pussy is for me right now, I know you remember how good I can make you feel.”

Oliver is back on top of me before I can respond, his mouth on mine, stealing my breath and all of my common sense. I bite down on his lip, and he fucking laughs at me, sliding his dick along my soaking pussy, glancing off my clit. I toss my head back, mouth parting at the sensation, and he licks at my tongue. “Taste your cum on my lips. Fuck, you taste so goddamn sweet, Dani, and that scream you made as you came all over my face? I’ll never be the same.” An uneven smile tilts his lips. “I told you I would make you come with my tongue, didn’t I?”

I scoff at him. “You think making me come once, in the way you said you would, makes up for everything you did to me? Keeping one promise that you’ve made to me? Fuck you!”

That familiar smile slides off his face, replaced by an unhinged scowl. He grips my hair roughly, forcing my head to stay in the unnatural position I arched into. “Baby, you’re mistaken. You’re not just coming once tonight. You owe me a scream while that wet little cunt of yours comes all over my cock.” He kisses me hard and rough. He’s possessing me. Owning me. Branding me, to make sure that no matter where I go in the future, I, and the world, know that I’m Oliver Shaw’s property.

Oli reaches down to place himself against my entrance. “Look into my eyes, Danica. Watch as I claim what’s fucking mine.” With a curse, he slams inside of me in a single thrust.

A muffled moan escaped my lips. Even when we were at our peak, he filled me up; now, with years in between the last time he was inside me, feeling all of him at once is overwhelming and painful—no matter how ready I am for him. His thrusts start slow but forceful. “I will never be yours again,” I say through clenched teeth.

Oli doesn’t respond, just drags himself out slowly, before slamming back into me again with such force I’m seeing stars. With every stroke, every forceful thrust deep inside of me, he damns my soul—all while keeping a small piece of it for himself, no matter how much I don’t want him to have any part of me.

His thumb runs over my swollen lip and pulls it down, forcing two fingers into my mouth. Oli’s eyelids are half-mast, his face awash in excruciatingly beautiful bliss. It pisses me off, even though he’s violently forcing me towards my second intense orgasm of the night. He doesn’t deserve bliss or joy; he lost that right when he threw me away like garbage. I need to make him hurt. I want him to bleed for me the way I bled for him for two fucking years. I bite down again on his fingers with all of my might.

He growls, slowing his violent thrusts. “What? Do you want my blood, my sanguine muse?” He rips his fingers from my mouth, uncaring of the bite I still have on him, and grips my hair tightly, his lips coming down hard on mine once more. I bite deep into his bottom lip and clamp down hard. Refusing to let go, just savoring the coppery taste of his blood as it pours into my mouth.

His blood is intoxicating and addictive. I want more. Why does his blood taste so fucking good? I know I should stop, but I can’t. I just keep sucking the blood from his lip like a woman possessed, pressing my tongue against his lush mouth to get more, losing myself in blinding lust. Either I’m a psychopath or his blood is like an aphrodisiac. Is there something wrong with me? Each sip I take, the faster I feel another orgasm beginning to rise in my core. I moan loudly, drinking more of him down.

I’m meeting every thrust of his hips with my own, urging him to go faster. My hands are wrapped in his shaggy hair, forcing his mouth closer to mine. I wouldn’t even call it a kiss anymore, given how deeply I’m devouring him, his lower lip sucked into my mouth. He slams into me, and I come for the second time that night, clenching around his dick that’s still slamming into me forcefully. I’m writhing beneath him, screaming his name, absolutely lost in the feeling of having Oli inside me again.

Even through the heady bliss absolutely unraveling me from the inside out, I notice when the room gets darker somehow. Shadows thicken along the wall, and the illumination from the highway lights and car headlamps outside fade away. It’s almost as if the entire room is enshrouded in shadows. I don’t know how it could be possible, and frankly, with Oli still thrusting into me, I don’t really care.

“You’re so fucking sexy with my blood dripping out of that perfect mouth.” His hips keep a slow, steady pace, his cock sliding continuously over that small bundle of nerves on my inner wall. Fuck, he still feels so damn good, even after all this time apart. I could spend an eternity like this with him. After drinking his blood, it’s like I can’t get enough. I want him to never stop fucking me, never stop touching me. He’s like an addiction. A sick fucking addiction.

Oli lowers his head and kisses my neck, maintaining the slow, tortuous pace of his hips. His breathing becomes ragged as he licks and nibbles along the pulse point in my neck. Something sharp scrapes against my skin, and I let out a soft gasp.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath before shouting, “NO!” and flipping us over so that I’m straddling him.

The room is so dark that I can’t even see the headlights of the passing cars through the blinds in the window. I can’t see anything except Oli’s pale, strained face. It’s like we’re encased in a darkened shroud.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I mock, the high of my orgasm fading.

“Ride me, baby. Show me how much you hate me.” He seizes my hips in his hands, forcing me to move over him. From this angle, I can feel him so much deeper, every inch of his long, girthy cock inside of me. Pleasure pools inside of me once more as I move my hips to my own rhythm.

“I do hate you. Just because you can make me come doesn’t mean I’m yours,” I say as I quicken my pace. I scratch my nails down his chest, digging them in deep.

“You want to make me bleed again, don’t you, love? It made you feel amazing, didn’t it?” He places his hands above mine, forcing me to tear my nails further into his skin. So I do, relishing the give of his chest under my fingertips. “Fuck yes, Dani, that’s right, make me bleed, baby. I’ll bleed for you for eternity. I’m never letting you go, Danica. You are mine. Until your last breath and mine, you will never escape me. Now drink the blood from my chest and come again on my cock as I bring you to absolution.”

I find myself tilting towards him, catching myself just before I lick the blood from his chest. Why do I actually have a strong urge to drink his blood again? What the hell is wrong with me? “You’re sick! I’m not drinking your blood again. I don’t want anything from you, especially not your blood!”

He sits up and cups my chin in his hand, bringing my face to his chest. “Drink, baby. Before it heals.” Almost as if I’m in a trance, I lap at his wounds, his moan whispering over my hair as I do so.

He tastes so good, the feeling of his blood tracing over my tongue and down my throat is euphoric. I want all of it. All of him. Everything he’s willing to give me and even what he isn’t. Is this normal? I can’t say I’ve ever tasted blood before, so what do I even know?

Lust stirs in the pit of my stomach again. I’m grinding my pussy on his cock harder, faster, as I straddle his lap. “Such a good fucking girl, Dani.”

He lays back down on the bed as I take him deeper, more aggressively, the coppery tang of his blood still coating my tongue. Extending a single hand between my thighs, Oliver slowly strokes his fingers over my clit.

That one movement causes me to lose all control, writhing and convulsing over the cliff of my third orgasm. I’m screaming and moaning, my pussy clenching around him tightly, the edges of my vision blurring with each forceful move he makes.

I’m still wrapped around him when he picks me up and rolls me over. His hand wraps around my throat so tight that I can hardly breathe while he’s slamming into me, hard and fast to reach his own orgasm. He’s filling me with his seed, roaring out his own release, before his body goes still and falls over mine.

He rests his forehead against me, our breathing ragged and shallow in the small space. Sweat coats our bodies as we lie entwined in bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. “I love you, Dani.” Oliver pants against my mouth as he kisses me gently. The room envelops us in darkness; inky black tendrils swirl around our skin, cloaking us in shadows as we complete our wicked deed.

“I hate that I love you, Oli.”