15. Wes

Chapter fifteen

Wes

H and in hand, I pay the bill and guide Layne out of the diner, but I head towards the water instead of returning to the car. The bay looks so calm this morning. I’ve lived in San Francisco nearly my whole life and have only come to the bay’s edge a handful of times. Everytime its to dump the remains of people.

Layne freezes, unwilling to go any closer to the edge of the pier. My grip on her hand tightens as I tug her to come with me. Her eyes meet mine, and I can see the fear reflected in them. “What is it, Ma Petite Mort? Scared of the water?“ She nods. Tears prick in the corners of her eyes as she backs away, overwhelmed with emotion. Panic sets in, and she begins to breathe rapidly. Terrified that she is on the verge of some kind of panic attack, I stop.

I pull her into an embrace, feeling her body relax into mine. “You’re okay, Layne. I’m here, baby.” Wrapping my arm around her back and one hand cradles her head to my chest. “Use the sound of my heartbeat as your anchor,” I say, trying to get her to center herself. After feeling her breathing steady a bit, I ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I- I want to go. Take me somewhere else.” Her voice trembles as she says, “Wes, please,” and I give in, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

“Okay, baby. We’re leaving.”

We make our way back to the car, and I help her into the passenger seat. Firing up the engine, I can see its low rumble seems to put her at ease as I sit beside her, looking over at her with concern. I back the car out of the spot and turn left, leaving the parking lot. Layne takes a deep breath and finally asks,“ W-where are we headed to now?”

Focused on the road I say, “My place. It’s closer.”

My place because I don’t want to go back to her’s, last thing I want to deal with is running into the little pizza boy. Though I’m nervous about her being in my space, I’ve hidden all traces of my “work”. My job as an investigator in the district attorney’s office has its perks. With unlimited free rein to resources at my fingertips, I can keep tabs on literally anybody. It makes finding the pieces of shit I hunt down a breeze. Nobody suspects me of anything other than being the top investigator in the field. My charming demeanor and sharp suited up appearance has everyone fooled. I turn into the gravel driveway and reach out the window, punching buttons in the box. The gate unlocks, and I pull forward and get out to lock the gate.

Get this fucking gate fixed, ASAP.

“You live in a warehouse? Living up to your stalker persona.” Layne says as I climb back into the driver’s seat.

I pull over, and the sound of the engine dying breaks the silence. The bay’s chill hits me while getting Layne out of the car. My keys jingle as I unlock the door and lead her into the large open space. Finding the switches on the wall, I flip them up, and the lights above us kick on with a low hum. Home sweet home .

“Lovely place you’ve got here,” she says sarcastically, her eyes meeting mine, “so do you sleep on the floor?”

I shake my head and motion to the spiral stairs on the left. “This way, baby.” Once upstairs, I put my keys down and take my jacket off. With my hand wrapped around hers, I lead her across the living room to the open kitchen, then I let go of her hand and grab two beer bottles from the fridge.

Unscrewing the top of one and I give it to her and she accepts it, taking a long swig. With a nod of my head, I invite her to sit with me on the couch. “So…tell me.”

Layne sighs, taking another long pull from her bottle, and begins. “My childhood was shit, Wes. My parents had …problems.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Problems like they were alcoholics or drug addicts?”

“Yes, to both. But they also were abusive. My whole life was one beating after the other. I wasn’t loved, I was a punching bag for them and their lowlife friends. Life was a constant struggle of being hungry, hurting, or emotionally neglected. I was fifteen years old when I overheard my parents discussing selling me to their dealer, so I tried to run away. I didn’t know what to do so I hid out at the pier close to our apartment.” Her words are already twisting my stomach into knots, but I let her finish uninterrupted.”

“I thought I had gotten away. But my dad knew I went there to hide out when I was scared. They found me quicker than I expected, and I didn’t have time to prepare to get away. They punished me for running away by dunking me under the water and holding me there. I fought and thrashed to try to get them to let go of me. My last memory was just the murky dark water closing in around me, stealing my air. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. I was officially dead for three minutes. They charged my parents with child abuse and attempted murder. My mom killed herself in jail a year into her incarceration and my father is still out there somewhere. ”

Layne’s breathing is slow and staggered as the tears fall down her face. “Atlas is the only other person I’ve ever told about my childhood, and he’s never brought it up again.” I stare at her, my fists clenched.

“He is still alive?” I say through gritted teeth, my anger seeping through my calm demeanor. She nods, fear on her face which makes rage courses through my veins. I stand, crossing the room to grab my cigarettes from the entry table, and head out to the balcony.

Layne follows me outside. The view of the water is breathtaking today, and I try to let the surroundings calm me.

“You’re telling me you have this as a view and you willingly chose to watch me in my little apartment instead?”

I raise my eyebrows in disbelief at her, shaking my head. I take a long drag from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke through my nose. “Layne, you don’t get it,” I turn my body towards hers, “you don’t know the chokehold you have me in. When you gave yourself to me last night, that meant everything to me. I will never let anyone hurt you ever again. The issue I have is I think your father is still hurting you. In here.” I tap her forehead.

“That’s beyond your control. My life before you will always haunt me, Wes.” She turns to face the bay and I watch her shiver.

Bingo, suspicion confirmed.

I flick my cigarette, and a trail of smoke follows it before it disappears into the yard below. “I am the only person who will haunt you, Ma Petite Mort . I will kill anyone and anything else that tries to.“ Any normal person would be terrified of what I just said. She isn’t, she just stares back at me. I want to protect her, well, from everyone but me.

She takes ahold of my face and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. Layne made the first move, and that must mean I’m growing on her. That thought has a warmth spreading through my chest. I lift her and cradle her in my arms, carrying her with ease back into the loft .

“As much as I want to fuck you outside, I don’t want to risk anyone else seeing your beautiful body.” I carry her to my bed and put her down, then kneel and begin by taking off her shoes and socks. My hands reach for her knife harness, and I feel the smooth leather under my fingertips as I unbuckle each buckle, savoring the taste of her skin with each kiss and bite. My cock is aching to be back inside her.

Her fingers glide through my curly locks, and then she clutches a handful of hair. I look up at her from between her thighs, hungry to taste her. My tongue gliding across the bottom of my teeth, I reach up and wrap my hand around her wrist. “I guess I need to tie you up and eat this pussy until you are begging for me to stop.” Rising to my feet, I head to my bedside table, returning with a coil of silky black rope. I guide her back onto the bed and make sure that the soft pillows at the headboard support her head.

With one swift motion, I remove her dress and toss it aside. I leave her in her bra and panties. My eyes drifting across her exposed body, before I , with skilled hands, take the rope and weave an intricate pattern around Layne’s wrists. The rest of it, I loop through a metal hoop on the bed frame, tying it off. She raises her wrists and tries to pull. Nothing. She is not going anywhere. As I unsheathe one of her knives, I feel its weight in my hand and trace it along her chin, dragging it down to her breasts. I think Layne has caught on that I have a blood and knife kink. I think she does too, by the way her body responds. The blade halts at her hip, and I slide it between the fabric of her panties and her skin.

A quick flick of my wrist, and her panties slice, the blade cutting into her hip slightly. My tongue glides over the cut and with her blood gathered on my tongue, I push her panties aside and circle her clit. A cry escaping her lips, she arches from the rough sensation of my tongue and writhes, straining against the rope. The sound of her fighting the pleasure makes me moan into her pussy. The vibrations from my moans send her near the edge. I feel her tense up and I pull back before she can come .

“N-no, keep going…Pl-please, Wes,” her voice shakes.

“Please what, baby?” I smirk.

“Please let me come. I need to so bad.” She pleads, her voice heavy with desire.

I stand up on the bed and pull my pants and boxers off. Hands-on her hips, I lift her effortlessly and flip her to where she is on her knees. I take the pillows and stack them underneath her, “Lean into the pillows, Layne. Face the side so you can breathe.” She follows my instructions without hesitation. With her ass in the air, I dip my fingers into her dripping pussy, thrusting in and out. “Mmm, do you know how fucking delicious you are, Layne? I could eat your pussy all day long and never tire of it. Fuck , you’re so wet for me.”

Layne whimpers as I add another finger to her pussy. “Yes, Wes. Only for you. Please fuck me…”

I withdraw my fingers, licking them clean, then line my hard cock up with her entrance. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, Layne. This pussy is mine,” as I slam inside her. Her screams fill the loft and echo throughout the warehouse, and they have to be my new favorite sound. With each thrust, her screams turn into deep moans, getting louder. I know I’m not going to last long inside her tight pussy, so I pick up the pace. “You like being fucked like a whore, huh,” her throaty moans tell me her answer, “a whore for my cock.”

I bring my hand down across her ass. Layne’s pussy clenches around my cock, coming with a sated moan. My thrusts turn hard and deep, my pace merciless as I chase my release. Layne whimpers under her breath and I lean over her and run my tongue down her spine. “Just a little more, Ma Petite Mort . Give me one more.“ I flip her over so she’s on her back and pull her knee up and lean into her neck, sucking and biting the area right under her ear. “Fuck, Layne. I fucking love your pussy, baby. I’m fucking done. You’ve ruined me for life. You’re mine, Ma Petite Mort . Tell me I can keep you. That you’re mine forever.”

“Oh, fuck Wes. I’m coming,” her walls clench around me, “yes. I’m yours, forever. Come with me, Wes.”

“Fuck, “I moan into her ear as I release myself deep inside her. I lay on top of her, kissing her neck and shoulder. “Forever. I want you to be the first thing I touch in the morning and your pussy to be the last thing I taste at night.”

I am coming for all the monsters that haunt her nightmares. They fucked with the scarier monsters girl.