Chapter 29 - Callum

“Let go of me, Callum.”

Anyone else would be fucking terrified of Stone right now. His voice is harsh and deep and too calm and steady. His eyes are dark, two voids that have swallowed up the forests.

I’ve thought before that I could never see him more furious, but I was wrong. Those times have nothing on him now.

I rise to my feet, keeping a tight grip on him. “I’m not letting you go after him.”

He yanks his arm toward him, which pulls me with it until my face is inches from his. “You really think you can stop me?”

“I do,” I tell him confidently.

His nostrils flare, and his left eye twitches. His entire body is vibrating. “He fucking threatened you. He invaded your privacy. You have no idea what I want to fucking do to him right now.”

“I can guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a hundred times worse than that.”

Jerking his arm, he twists out of my grasp, causing my nails to scratch and cut into his skin. Blood wells to the surface from the shallow scrapes as he stalks away. While he heads in the direction of his bag, I go to the door, standing in front of it to block his exit. He comes back, tucking his gun into the waistband of his jeans. His knuckles are white around the handle of his knife.

He stops in front of me. I hate the sight of his scowl directed at me, but I know it’s not really focused on me. It’s on Eric. He can’t help himself. I’ve realized he has anger issues among his many other ones, and when he gets this way, there’s very little that can stop him.

He’s a wild beast, and I’m still learning how to control the reins.

“Why are you trying to protect him?” Stone snarls. “Does he really mean that much to you?”

“No. He’s grieving, and he just got news that devastated him. He’s still my friend. But no. This is about you. If you go out there right now, you’re going to fuck up. You’re going to make a mistake and get yourself into a hell of a lot of trouble. I’m not willing to lose you over this, Stone.”

I can’t help but feel a little guilty. When Eric told us he followed us in Massachusetts, I remembered hearing footsteps that night. Eric was following me more than he was Stone.

It’s my fault.

My words don’t seem to penetrate the fortress of rage he’s built. He’s still wound tight, murder in his eyes. “How do you know he’s not going to the cops?”

“I know you’re in some kind of blind fury right now. But did you not see him? He’s not going to turn you in, not now that he knows the truth. I’m willing to bet on that a lot more than I am on letting you out of this apartment.”

“Not good enough.” He takes a step forward, eyes narrowed. “Get out of my way.”

Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.

Bounding forward, I grab onto his hand that’s clutching the knife, prying his fingers off to get a grip on it without cutting myself. He releases it easily. I know the only reason he lets go is for fear of hurting me.

If there’s one thing I can always count on, it’s that.

As soon as I have his knife, I move around him into the living room, backing away from him.

“That’s fine,” he says, removing his gun from his jeans and taking a step toward the door. “I don’t need it.”

Desperate times and all that…

I put the blade to my throat.

“Stone.”

With his hand on the doorknob, he peers back at me and freezes. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Eric didn’t hurt me. But I might hurt myself, so you should probably deal with me first.”

I feel a little insane, but I’m no more crazy than he is right now.

He takes his hand off the knob and slowly turns to face me as though he’s afraid of making any sudden movements. Fear has joined the rage etched all over his face and swirling in his dark eyes.

“Don’t be fucking stupid.”

“How about you look in a mirror when you say that?” I snap back at him.

Stone growls as he takes a step forward. In response, I press the blade a little harder against my skin. His nostrils flare as he blows out a breath through his nose like a fucking bull.

“Fucking stop this.”

“You first. You always say you’ll give me anything I want. Fucking prove it.”

I can practically see the war raging in his mind. It’s probably like a shootout in there.

I guess we’ll see if I can get away with a knife in a gunfight.

He’s shaking worse than ever. I’m pretty sure I’m staring into the eyes of the beast right now. The one who would eat me alive if Stone let him.

Maybe I should be running, but I’m not afraid of him. I’m only afraid of what he might do that takes him away from me. I appreciated that I had to wait to see him kill again so he could plan it out so we’d both be safe. I’m willing to wait again, no matter how long it takes. I’m also willing to do whatever I have to to keep his ass out of prison.

Finally making his decision, he leans over and places his gun on the coffee table.

“Now drop the knife,” he says, voice stiff and cautious.

I don’t. I continue holding it at my neck. “Swear to me first you’re not going to go after him. Promise you won’t kill him.”

He glances away, and his jaw ticks.

I move the blade away from my throat only to press it against my forearm. He gets one step before I’m sliding the sharp steel across my skin, slicing it open. Blood drips down my arm and onto the floor.

Stone’s panic becomes a tangible thing.

“Fuck! Okay, okay! Ricochet!”

Did he just safeword?

Is that all I had to do instead of just cutting the shit out of my arm?

His shoulders slump with defeat, his chest heaving. “Okay. I fucking swear. Please. Please just drop the knife, Callum.”

This time, I do. I lower it to my side before letting it slip through my fingers and clatter to the vinyl flooring at my feet. It takes Stone a split second to get to me. He crosses the room and takes my face between his hands before crashing his mouth to mine. I don’t fight him. I let him kiss me. My body is drained of every ounce of energy from fighting him already.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers shakily against my lips. “I’m so sorry. I fucking lost it.”

“Yeah, you did,” I agree.

“I swear I’ll never make you do that again.” He presses his forehead against mine as one of his hands moves to the nape of my neck, squeezing it. “I should fucking punish you for hurting yourself like that though.”

“So do it.”

He pulls back, a deep crease between his brows. “Callum…”

Reaching up, I move the collar of my shirt to the side, revealing the spot where he bit me pretty hard back at the cabin. “Are your marks still there?”

He winces, and I have my answer before he speaks. “A little.”

“I like your marks, Stone. I like it when you’re rough with me. So how about you give me what I want while purging some of that fucking rage you have? Give us what we both need.”

Because even though I won this fight, I can still feel it coming off of him in waves. It’s like he’s experiencing withdrawals from his usual drug—the blood we both crave, just in different ways. He’s still trembling, face flushed. His heavy breaths are hot on my face.

He needs this as a temporary fix.

I need this to end all doubt that he sees me as weak.

That crease between his brows deepens as he goes through yet another conflict in his mind.

“Tell me your safe word.”

Tension I didn’t realize was constricting everything in my chest uncoils. The one word comes out on a breath. “Ricochet.”

Placing his palm flat against my stomach, he pushes me back, following each one of my steps with one of his own. My cock is already responding to the way his eyes darken with something more than fury.

“I’ll never break you, Callum.” His voice is that deep, husky growl that I love. “But I will fucking ruin you.”

The moment my back hits the wall, his hand comes up and wraps around my throat. His grip tightens a little more than it usually does. It’s not quite enough to cut off my air, but it’s enough to make me lightheaded and have my cock stiffening.

“You’re going to feel only me until the end of time,” he says, his warm breath kissing my lips. “There will be no purging me from your veins. No carving my touch from your skin. No ridding the memories of me from your mind. If I can’t do any of that when it comes to you, then I won’t let you either. You’re fucking everywhere, and I’m not capable of letting you go. You belong to me, and I belong to you.”

Even if I was in any state to respond to that, he doesn’t give me the chance. He slams his mouth to mine, biting hard at my bottom lip and making me gasp so he can shove his tongue inside my mouth. His kiss is vicious, merciless. He grinds against me until my dick is straining painfully against my zipper.

Releasing my throat, he fists my hair instead, tugging my head to the left so his mouth can latch onto the side of my neck. While his other hand goes to the button of my jeans, he bites down and sucks at my skin, sending shocks of pleasure and pain rushing through me.

I know he’s leaving his mark there.

These marks are different. Different because I want them.

The fact that this time it’s entirely intentional has me feeling as though I’m hanging from a live wire.

He has my pants undone, but he hasn’t made a move to lower them.

“Stone,” I whimper. “Please. Touch me.”

Letting go of me, he pushes my jeans and underwear down around my thighs. His mouth travels to another spot on my throat. He sucks another mark into my skin while he undoes his own jeans with one hand and wraps his other around my aching cock.

“Oh, fuck,” I moan as I thrust into his fist.

Then his hands are around us both, his dick pressed against mine. His thumb swipes over my slit, using our precum to slick our cocks as he strokes us together. I rock my hips, loving the feel of him against me, all around me. Leaving his marks on me.

When all of it’s gone, my eyes fly open as he grips my hips and spins me around. Grabbing both my wrists, he raises them and places my palms flat against the wall on either side of my head. The gash in my left arm has dripped blood all the way to my fingers. Red is smeared around my wrist from where he grabbed me.

With his lips at my ear, he growls low, “Stay right here and don’t fucking move.”

As he walks away, I can’t help but imagine my blood on his hand. I squirm, rubbing my cock against the wall.

He returns, pressing the length of his body against my back to pin me. “I thought I said don’t move.”

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He moves back enough to lay a hard, stinging smack on my bare ass, causing me to let out a choked gasp and rut against the wall again. His hand stays there, roughly kneading one cheek while he grinds his cock against the other.

“Gonna fuck you so hard you’ll feel me all fucking week long.”

“Yes,” I groan. “Fuck. Please do that.”

I hear the pop of a cap and then feel the cool trickle of lube over my crack. The next thing I know, Stone is splitting me open, thrusting two fingers deep inside my ass. I cry out at the sudden burn. As he drives them in and out, it quickly turns into an intoxicating, mounting pleasure. I sink into it as my fingers curl, clawing the wall.

“I’m fucking yours, Callum,” he says as he fucks me with his fingers, adding a third. Raising his other hand, he thrusts two more fingers inside my mouth, filling me so completely, so perfectly. A deep noise rumbles against my back as I start to suck. “I might be a killer, but you have this killer wrapped around your fingers. You have so much power over me you have no fucking idea.”

Removing his fingers from my ass, he replaces them with the head of his cock nudging against my hole. I continue sucking on the fingers in my mouth, using them as something else to cling to as he pushes his way inside.

His low groan fills my ears as his crown slips past my rim and he slowly sinks deep, fully. There’s a slight burn as my hole stretches around him, one that’s equal amounts pain and pleasure. A rough breath escapes my lips as I rest my temple against the wall, eyes fluttering as I float in pure bliss.

He doesn’t move for several seconds, his chest shuddering at my back and his forehead pressed to the back of my head.

“I love to kill,” he says, his lips brushing the clammy skin at the nape of my neck. “I love to kill for you . But nothing in this world will ever compare to the feeling of being inside you.”

I feel the same about watching him kill. I love it.

But I love this more.

“You were right to stop me.” Inch by inch, he pulls back until only the head of his cock is inside me. “If I have to choose between a kill and keeping you, it’ll always be you.”

He punctuates his point by slamming into me so hard that it lifts me onto my toes. My mouth opens on a silent cry that gets lost somewhere on the way up. Taking his fingers out of my mouth, he wraps them around my throat, squeezing.

The ache of the stretch slowly dissolves into shockwaves of pleasure every time his dick rubs over that spot inside me that’s only ever made me light up like this for him. My body has never once responded to someone like it does to him, and I know it never will. I’ve never felt so full, so complete, in all my life.

I never want to lose this.

“Fuck,” I moan. “Gonna come soon.”

“Not before I say you can.”

Reaching around with his other hand, he grabs my balls and gives them a not-so-gentle tug, making me yelp. It dissolves into a whine as he grips the base of my cock tight.

He continues fucking into me, relentless and ruthless, and leans forward until his face is in my line of sight. His intense gaze is locked on my forearm. Specifically, on the bloody cut I gave myself with his knife. I can practically see the crimson of it reflected in his dark eyes.

“You’re never allowed to do this to yourself again,” he growls.

Then he leans over further and sweeps his tongue over the length of my forearm, licking up the wet blood that’s still there.

“Oh, fuck,” I whimper, following it with a long, low moan as my cock throbs in his hand. “Stone, please. Wanna come.”

“Tell me first,” he says, turning his face to mine, a drop of blood on his lips. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. Only yours. Forever yours.”

“What else is mine?” he asks, pounding into me until I can’t keep my eyes open any longer.

“My ass.”

He strokes my dick with a rough fist. “And?”

“My cock.”

“What else, Callum? What else belongs only to me?”

I force my eyes open to meet his gaze. Even though his are still dark, pupils wide, I can see the forests in them again.

“My heart.”

Emotion swirls within the fog of his eyes. “And mine belongs to you.”

He crushes my mouth with his, and I lick his lips to taste the blood. His mouth then moves down, kissing and nipping at my jaw, passing his hand that’s still around my throat. I feel his warm breath against the crook of my neck, on the opposite side from where he bit me earlier. His teeth bite down, even harder this time. He thrusts into me two more times before his hips still. The sensation of him filling me, claiming me and marking me, and his hand still stroking my cock has my orgasm following right after his. My vision goes white, my head fuzzy.

His body slumps against mine while we catch our breath.

When his softening cock slips out and he turns me around, I lean my back against the wall. Facing him now, I see a difference in him.

The beast has retreated.

He gave us what we both needed.

His hand comes up, his fingers rubbing against my lips, smearing them with my own cum. The taste of my blood still lingers on my tongue. He kisses me to taste all of me.

“I’m never letting you go, baby,” he whispers against my lips, still breathless. “You were always meant to be mine.”

There’s been more between us since five years ago than I realized before now.

Because of the childhood abuse I endured, Stone murdered my stepdad. Because he killed Lewis, something was born in me. For the longest time, I thought it was a poison, a cancer. But then he came back and showed me that’s not what it was at all.

It was the other half of him .

The missing piece that he needed, the piece that needed him to finally be whole.

Like that puck on the ice that ricocheted off the boards between us, we’ve been ricocheting off each other this whole time.