Chapter 18 - Stone

Kissing Callum was worth the wait.

I’ve been dying to taste his lips, and being granted the first taste was definitely worth the fucking wait.

My tongue darts out and takes that first taste for myself, just a slow, soft sweep along his lips that has him moaning beneath me. Blood rushes to my cock, but I do my best to keep it under control. I’ve already fucked up enough tonight.

I made promises that I’ve broken. I told Callum that I don’t take anything from him he doesn’t willingly give.

Tonight, I took his blood and pain.

Panic and desperation aren’t good enough excuses, but they’re all I have. I was terrified of going to prison. Not because of the prison part but because of the thought of disappointing my mom and sister.

Even though I was willing to do that for Callum, hurting him had me falling to pieces. I was collapsing from the inside out, caving in. I was fucking coming apart at the seams.

To be honest, I’m still at risk of that.

I fucking cried .

I’m pretty sure I haven’t done that in six years. Since the night I sat in my sister’s room while she told me what happened to her and I helped clean the blood off her face. She refused to talk to my mom or call the cops or go to the hospital. I think it was because she wanted justice, and she trusted me most of all to be able to hand that to her. And I fucking did.

My lips continue moving against Callum’s, not demanding more, content with the slow touch, the occasional taste of his lips with the tip of my tongue. I bring my fingers up to tangle in his hair again. When my hand brushes against his temple, he winces against my mouth.

“I’m so sorry, Callum,” I tell him with my lips still pressed to his. My chest convulses on my next breath.

Here I fucking go again.

“Fuck. I’m so fucking sorry. Never again, baby. Never fucking again.”

He leans his head back enough to break the connection between our mouths. The look in his eyes isn’t that icy one I had come to know. Instead, there’s fire there. A fierce heat. Desire.

“If you don’t fucking grip my hair tighter and give me more of your mouth, then let me the fuck go so I can leave.”

At least that stops me from going to rack and ruin again.

I give him a smirk, just a small one. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Not unless he wants to.

But I’ll make sure he doesn’t.

I give him exactly what he wants, tightening my grasp in his hair so it’s more pressure than pain. I tilt his head back, and then…

I fucking devour him.

This kiss is the opposite of soft and sweet. It’s hard and hungry. My teeth bite into his bottom lip just enough to have him gasping, giving me the opportunity I need to drive my tongue into his mouth. This taste is even more potent, a shot right to my bloodstream until I’m dizzy with it.

He’s definitely not going anywhere.

I’m still in a state of disbelief at how this night has gone. When I caught Callum coming down that fire escape, I was sure I was going to be spending the night in a jail cell. And every night for the rest of my life.

The fact that Callum has witnessed the last two murders I’ve committed? That he’s enjoyed them in his own twisted way that’s different from my own?

Fuck me.

I could’ve told him a different truth than the one I chose. I could’ve told him about the kind of people my victims are, the only truth that Lacey knows. That I enjoy justice and vengeance nearly as much as the rest of it. But when he told me his truth, I knew I could trust him with mine. The one I’ve never told another soul. It was a weight off my own. It felt damn fucking good to give Callum that piece of me.

I’d give him all of me.

He was fucking made for me.

I’ve never been more certain of it.

Especially when I feel his cock hardening in his jeans. Mine thickens in response, and I grind down on him. He gasps, and I gulp it down like it’s the freshest, crispest water and I’m dying of thirst.

“Tell me what else you want,” I whisper, my voice deep and earnest, as my lips travel to his jaw and skim down his throat. “I’ll fucking give you anything.”

When I reach the cut along his neck, I have to keep myself from spiraling all over again. It’s not that bad. It’s not even bleeding anymore. I didn’t want to cut him at all, but fear and desperation took over. I hate myself for it.

I lick along the cut, wanting to soothe it. Most of the blood has dried, but I still taste a burst of copper on my tongue.

Callum moans and thrusts up against me.

I pull back, one brow arched and a grin on my lips. “You really are a freak, aren’t you?”

His face falls.

I bring my hand that’s not still tangled in his hair to the side of his face, hooking my thumb under his chin and lifting his gaze back to mine. “Don’t do that. You’re fucking perfect.”

The light comes back into his eyes, and he says, “I want to suck your cock.”

I groan and bring my mouth back to his, too fucking desperate to go back to being gentle. I thrust my tongue into his mouth, clashing with his. He kisses me back with an equal amount of heat and fervor.

“You don’t have to, Callum,” I whisper breathlessly against his lips.

“I want to.”

Another groan leaves me as I pick up the knife and start to stand to cut off the ropes around his wrists.

“Wait.” He peers up at me and swallows. “Leave them.”

I blink down at him. “What?”

“Just…just for now. Please.”

“Why?” I ask, tension between my brows.

“I don’t know.” He looks away, but only for a moment, like he knows I need his eyes on me. Or maybe he needs that. “I guess I feel…safe. Grounded.”

I told him I’d give him anything he wants, so…

“Okay.” I drop the knife onto the plastic covering the floor. My hands go to the button of my jeans. “Just…bite if I need to stop.” When he grins, I narrow my eyes. “Not too hard, fucker. I’ll take as much pain for you as I need to, but I’m rather fond of my dick.”

“I’m fond of it too,” he says as his gaze drops the moment I have my cock out. He licks his bottom lip, and I stare at the way it shines.

Standing between his legs, I fist my hard length. He dips his head and licks up the bead of precum at the tip. His moan vibrates through me, leaving me gasping for breath.

“Fuck. You’re gonna kill me.”

He peers up at me again, that familiar heart-stopping smile on his face. “I’ll leave the killing to you. Just let me watch.”

“Fucking hell.”

That does just as much to me as his warm breath on my cock.

Placing my hand on the back of his head, I push it back down because I fucking need to be inside his mouth. But I don’t force him; I guide him. He goes willingly. Eagerly. He parts his lips and takes the head of my cock inside his mouth, another moan causing heat to flare at the base of my spine. I roll my hips, begging him to take more. He does, hollowing his cheeks as he envelopes me with wet warmth and blessed suction.

It’s my turn to moan, a low, long sound drifting up into the air as I tilt my head back.

He leans forward, taking me deeper. He sucks me, flatting his tongue against the underside of my crown until I feel a pressure in my balls.

“Your mouth is my new favorite fucking thing, Callum. Kissing. Sucking. I want it all.”

But, still, I pull back, watching a string of saliva clinging to his lips as I slip out. He can’t speak. His hands are tied behind his back. I’ll fucking kill myself if I hurt him again.

Except he’s looking up at me beneath hooded lids, eyes darkened with desire. “You don’t have to hold back with me, Stone.”

My chest shudders, both with the lingering pleasure he was giving me and with the effort it takes from doing exactly what he said. Holding back.

“I can take whatever you have to give me. I want it. I trust you.”

I’m going to make this boy fucking mine . Even if it’s the last thing I ever do.

“Bite me if you have to,” I tell him again. Yeah, it’ll hurt like hell. But I think we’ve already established I don’t give a fuck. “Or squeeze your legs together. I’ll stop, I swear.”

He nods. “I know.”

Taking his head between my hands, I grip him by the hair and guide his mouth back to my cock. He opens up like he can’t get me back inside him fast enough. He closes his lips around my length, and I thrust slowly, steadily building up a quicker pace until I’m using my hands in his hair and rolling my hips to fuck into his mouth. Maybe not as hard as I would if he had the use of his hands, but I don’t need it when just the feeling of him is driving me crazy. The wet heat of his mouth. The smooth glide across his tongue. It’s all perfect.

So fucking perfect I’m going to come down his throat if I don’t stop soon. And I don’t know if he wants that.

Slowing my thrusts, I peer down at him. “I’m so fucking obsessed with you. Obsessed with the way you look with your mouth stuffed full of my cock.”

Obsessed with the way he trusts me.

Obsessed with the way he looks up at me like he wants so much more.

I want more too.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

The question surges out of me before I can stop it because… fuck, I want so much more.

His eyes open wide, and I quickly retreat, letting go of him.

As soon as my cock is out of his mouth, he croaks a gasping, “Yes.” But then he’s blinking furiously like he’s coming back to himself, fighting his way through a lust haze that has both our chests heaving, my cock out and slick with his spit, and his looking like it’s ready to burst out of his jeans. “No.”

I try my best to keep a frown off my face, but I can feel it pulling down the corners of my mouth.

And then it goes completely slack, along with my jaw, when he meets my gaze and says, “I want you to fuck me .”

He stares at me expectantly while I’m left trying to process those words. My cock loves the idea judging by the way it throbs. If it was the one in charge of my mouth, I’d be saying, “Fuck yes.”

Instead, I swallow and ask, “Are you sure?”

I must’ve been so in my head, attempting to form coherent words, that I missed the way his breathing changed, still harsh but a little more erratic. His chin trembles.

“Erase him.” It’s a whispered plea. “Please, Stone. Fucking erase him. Erase all—” Something has him choke up and start again. “Erase all of it.”

I should’ve killed Lewis Gibson slower. I should’ve drug it out. Tortured him. Carefully carved out his insides so he could watch while he slowly and painfully exsanguinated.

If I could, I’d bring him back from the dead to do just that.

Maybe I should’ve told Callum the truth about who killed his stepfather. I will. Soon. There have been enough revelations tonight as it is.

If I had told him about the kind of people I kill, would he have been able to guess?

Knowing the truth, I doubt he’ll hate me for it. But there’s still a nagging voice in the back of my head that says he might. That says if I tell him now, I’d shatter the rose-colored glasses that he really sees me through, and he’d realize he’s just traded one monster for another.

Tucking my dick back in my boxers for now, I bend and pick up my knife. It’s my favorite one—the one with all the notches I’ve cut into its rosewood handle. On my way to walk around Callum, I stop long enough to lean over and place a soft kiss against his lips.

When I get the ropes around his wrists cut, I freeze, letting them fall away.

“Fuck, Callum.” My eyes follow his wrists as he brings his hands around. I move with them until I’m standing in front of him again. I try not to, but I can’t stop myself from glaring down at him. “Why didn’t you tell me they were that tight?”

I’m probably overreacting. His wrists aren’t even an angry kind of red, just a little irritated and pink.

Callum stands and places a hand against the side of my face, stroking his thumb against my cheek as though he’s trying to smooth out my scowl. Unfortunately, all it does is put his wrist closer into my line of sight.

“Easy, killer. It doesn’t even hurt.”

I almost let it go at the endearing and accurate pet name. Instead, I grab him just below his wrist, pulling his hand away from my face to hold it between us. “Do you know what I would be doing to the person who did this to you if it wasn’t me?”

He grins. “I can imagine.”

“It’d be ten times bloodier than what you’ve seen so far.”

He shivers. But then he says, “You better not be a little bitch in bed too.”

I fucking growl. Because I’m definitely not a little bitch in bed, but…

“I don’t think I can be rough with you tonight.” I lower his arm and close the distance between us, pulling him closer with a hand on his lower back. He’s still hard. I can feel him. Brushing my lips against his, I whisper, “I want to fucking worship you, baby.”

His chest shudders against mine on his next breath. “Then get on with it.”

Still holding onto his arm, I step back and pull him with me. Now it’s my turn to grin. “Would you like a tour first?”

“All I need to see is your bedroom.”

I tug at him, and he crashes back into me. My mouth is on his as I spin him around and back him up step by step toward the only bedroom in the apartment. We’re kicking off our shoes, and my hands fly to the button of his jeans as my tongue finds his.

I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of kissing him.

The moment I have his pants undone and his cock in my hand, I gently bite at his bottom lip, pulling it into my mouth as I stroke him.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans, bucking into my hand.

I stroke him a few more times until I have him panting. He whines when I release him. Our mouths break apart long enough for me to remove his shirt and then mine before I’m on him again. As our teeth and tongues clash, I run my hands up his abs, hot skin on hot skin.

I’m a little surprised he hasn’t flinched away from my touch anytime it’s gotten close to his scars.

He trusts me.

When I get to his nipples, I give them a light pinch, rolling them between my thumbs and fingers. I capture every one of the noises he makes as he grinds against me.

While he’s busy smearing precum against my skin and boxers, I push him further into the room until his legs hit the foot of the bed. With my hands still on his pecs, I push him down onto the mattress.

After I divest both of us of our jeans and underwear, I crawl onto the bed between his legs. He’s trembling a little, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm like he’s forcing each breath.

“Hey.” I hover above him, our cocks slotting against each other. Holding myself up with one hand, I place the other against the side of his neck like he did to me earlier. “We don’t have to do this if you’re scared.”

He glares up at me, and it’s almost reminiscent of how he used to look at me, which now I only find kind of adorable. “I’m not fucking scared.” The look fades, and he swallows. “I’m just nervous. But I want this, Stone. I want you .”

“I’ll give you anything you want,” I tell him again. Because I will. And I’ll tell him a million and one times. “Just remember you can tell me to stop. I’ll always stop for you.”

A small, shaky smile graces his lips as he nods. “I know.”

“Good.” I kiss him before dragging my mouth down to his jaw, his throat, his chest. “I’ve been dying to taste more of you. I’m going to make you feel so good, baby. The only thing your body will remember is me.”

He lets out a soft, blissful sigh like he wants nothing more.

Before I can get too far, I lean over and open the small drawer of my nightstand, retrieving lube and a condom.

“Um.” Callum eyes the condom, then peers up at me. “Do we have to use that? I just…I want to feel you . Only you.”

Fuck, I want that too. More than I ever have before.

“I’m on PrEP. And I’ve tested negative since I was last with someone,” I tell him. Because I won’t let him have any doubts.

“I’m negative too.” He squirms a little. “I’ve never…I haven’t…not since…”

Tossing the condom back in the drawer, I move on top of him again. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. And you never have to feel ashamed around me. I understand at least a little more than you might think.”

Maybe not from personal experience. But I watched my sister closely for years after her attack. She pretty much skipped denial and went straight to anger. For the longest time, she closed herself off to feeling anything but that. I was already feeling protective over my family after we lost our father, but that sent me over the edge. I was there for her when she finally had her breakdown. Or breakthrough. I guess it was both.

I spent days and weeks doing research on sexual assault survivors after that. That’s probably the only reason I’m not panicking under the pressure of being in bed with Callum right now.

He looks at me like maybe he wants to ask questions, but instead he says, “Okay.”

“Okay,” I repeat. “Now let me take care of you. I’ll make sure you feel all of me.”

Again, I kiss his lips before letting my mouth travel down once more. I lick over his pulse point, feeling it flutter beneath my tongue. I stop to kiss and lick at each of his nipples, then I’m kissing my way down his stomach. He lets me skim my lips over his scars without flinching or freezing up. The long, pink lines. The round one that I’m even more sure was from a cigar now that I see it up close. When I get to his cock, I sweep my tongue up the length of him before taking him into my mouth. His low, deep moan fills my ears as I suck him.

While he’s distracted by my mouth, I place my hands against his thighs, spreading his legs wider. I take one last lick over his slit before my mouth is moving lower again. I give some gentle attention to his balls as I grip his ass cheeks in each hand, spreading them next. Then my tongue is there, swiping over his hole.

“Fuck!” Callum shouts out as he jerks against my mouth.

I raise my head to see him staring, wide-eyed, lips parted, gasping. Like he can’t believe what I just did.

But then he whispers breathlessly, “Do that again.”

Or maybe he can’t believe it felt so good.

I grin and obey, going back to his hole, swirling my tongue around his rim.

The next time I peer up at him, his knuckles are white where he grips the sheets, his eyes are closed, his cock is leaking where it rests on his abs, and he’s muttering curses in between all the other little noises he makes.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh my fucking god.”

“Not yet,” I murmur, making sure my deep voice rumbles right through him. “I will be soon.”

Then I thrust my tongue inside him, and he cries out.

Fortunately, I have experience in telling the difference between screams of pain and cries of pleasure. Callum’s is undoubtedly the latter.

So I don’t stop.

I flick my tongue a little deeper, then I add a finger, pushing in alongside it. He lets out another deep sound, but it’s not one that’s telling me to stop.

After he’s opened up to my tongue and finger, I pull out and sit up to grab the bottle of lube.

He opens his eyes, blinks, and frowns at me. “Why’d you stop?”

I can’t help but chuckle because he looks adorable when he pouts. “You want my cock, right?”

He nods. “Yes, please.”

Pouring lube into my hand, I slick up both my fingers and my dick. Bringing my fingers back to his hole, I slowly work two in this time, keeping my eyes on Callum the whole time. His gaze remains locked on mine as he inhales a quiet gasp and his body locks up.

“Relax.” I lean over him and place a featherlight kiss to his jaw. “You know I’m going to take care of you.”

“Fuck off. I’m fine.”

I almost laugh again.

Except his body is still rigid, his eyes screwed tightly shut.

I trace up his jaw with the tip of my tongue as I continue stretching him with two fingers. He’s so fucking tight, the feel of him causing my dick to throb against his. But he also really needs to relax so I don’t fucking hurt him.

“How much did you see tonight?” I whisper against the shell of his ear. “My knife lodged in his chest? The blood on the floor? The way his eyes became nothing more than empty voids as they stared open and lifeless at the ceiling?”

Just like that, all the tension in him uncoils, and I add a third finger.

The groan that comes out of him is pure fucking rapture. His eyes flutter open, and I see it there too. The pleasure, the tranquility he was talking about. It’s as though he’s drunk off it.

“Will you kill for me again?” he asks, the question full of longing and desire.

I don’t love the idea of bringing him with me. It’s always dangerous. What if my victim hurts him? What if we get caught? But I could take all the precautions in the world for him because…fuck, he needs it. I see the way it affects him. I remember how hard he was sleeping in our hotel room that morning after the night on the dock.

“I told you I’d give you anything,” I answer. “I meant it.”

Removing my fingers, I pour a little more lube over my cock and his hole. He’s still relaxed, staring up at me with eyes a little glassy, swimming with the memories I planted in his mind.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

Mine, mine, mine.

I think it, but I still can’t say it.

Not yet.

Lining up the head of my dick with his hole, I gently ease forward. Callum’s breathing picks up, and I wrap my free hand around his cock, stroking to keep him hard. He moans and lifts his hips, and my crown slips past his rim. His mouth opens with a silent cry, and his hands fly to the back of my head to force me down to him where the cry is let loose from his lips to mine.

I give him another couple of inches before slowly pulling back, letting him adjust. But then his legs come up to wrap around the backs of my thighs, and he’s dragging me in. I go as steadily as I can with the weight of his legs pressing desperately against me.

“Fuck,” he whimpers. “Fuck, Stone.”

My name on his lips unravels me, and I bury myself deep in his ass.

His fingers are tangled tightly in my hair, and his mouth has traveled down to my jaw, open and sobbing with broken, euphoric noises. His teeth scrape my skin as his nails dig into my scalp. I take every little bite of pain because none of it could compare to the overwhelming ecstasy of being inside him.

“Tell me how you feel, Callum,” I say as I pull back before thrusting back in just as slowly.

Another moan. “I thought it’d hurt, but it doesn’t. I was waiting for the pain, but it’s not there. Not really. It’s just pressure, but…” He speaks between each shallow breath. Another thrust, another moan. “Fuck, so full. It feels good.” He tugs on my hair until I’m looking into his eyes. “ You feel good.”

“You feel so fucking good too, baby. I knew you would. I knew you’d be fucking perfect.”

He brings my mouth back to his, driving his tongue inside as his hands slide down to my back and his legs tighten around my waist. His nails dig in, and I can’t stop the growl that claws its way up my throat as I pick up the pace, fucking into him in a rhythm that’s just past the point of holding back. If I go too far too soon, I might break him. And I don’t want that.

Ruin him, yes.

Make him mine, yes.

Break him, no.

I don’t know if there’s a difference between being obsessed and being addicted. But it doesn’t matter because I’m both.

My hand is still around his cock between us, still slick with lube. I stroke him in time with my thrusts, capturing every noise from his mouth with mine until he has to pull back to draw breath.

“I’m gonna come,” I tell him as I stroke him a little harder, fuck him a little faster. “Gonna fill you up.”

Claim you.

Mark you.

“Fuck.” He throws his head back, and his dick throbs in my hand. “Gonna come too.”

And he does, about two seconds before me.

His release shoots out between our bodies, painting us with sticky, warm cum as my own is pumped deep inside him.

His legs fall from around my waist, and I have to hold myself up from crashing on top of him. His eyelids flutter, like they’re heavy but he’s trying hard to keep them open. After a moment, he fails and lets them close. There’s a lazy smile on his face, and I can’t stop myself from kissing it.

Slowly, he forces his eyes open. His smile turns a little shaky as his words come out as barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t think it’d feel that good.”

My heart damn near fucking shatters for him.

I kiss him again. “I’ll always make you feel good, baby. Always .”

He sighs and shuts his eyes again.

When I sit up and my soft cock slips out of him, he makes a little noise but doesn’t stir. I crawl backwards off the bed, trying not to get distracted by the sight of a drop of my cum escaping him, and pick up my shirt from the floor. I should probably go into the bathroom and bring back a wet washcloth, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving him alone right now.

After I clean us both up the best I can with my shirt, I lie down beside him, bringing the covers up over us both. Without even opening his eyes, he curls up against my side, throwing an arm over my waist. Pulling him even closer, I hold him tight.

If he needs comfort, I’ll soothe him.

If he’s touch starved, I’ll feed him.

If he wants pleasure, I’ll satiate him.

If he needs death, I’ll kill for him.