Chapter 17

ChapterSeventeen

Blake

Follow Me Down - The Pretty Reckless

Ilingered within the shadows, too hyped up on Ophelia’s screams and insults to intervene just yet. She’s strapped naked to the table. Once he brought her back to his slaughterhouse, he tossed her into a cell and told her to strip. The fact he hadn’t touched her yet was the only reason I was playing this out.

She craved the excitement and more than anything, she craved the power.

I just watched that be stolen from her, so I know that our next kill will be fucking glorious. I wanted more from her than dishing out a few striking kicks and punches.

I had her exactly where I wanted her most.

Utterly and dependently dependent on my mercy.

After she told him to go and eat himself—which seemed like the biggest insult possible—he flipped a switch on the wall and the cell floors began to heat under her feet. He had told her to strip or fry so naturally with a slur of the most degrading insults known to mankind, she stripped, then threw her clothes in his face.

I chuckled, shaking my head at the frustration etched into the features of her pretty face.

“Blake, you asshole! If you can still fuck with that dick of yours, I can still cut it off!” she vowed in a furied bellow and I flinched, covering my cock from those scorching words.

What was it with this chick and cutting off dicks?

I winced and looked over my shoulder. As I did a double take, bile rose in the back of my throat. A row of mutilated cocks swam in some jars of vile-looking liquid, side by side on the shelving unit that held other body parts. Hearts, livers, and for some fucked up reason, vaginas, that were completely intact. I shuddered, dreading to think why the fuck he would keep them if he claimed in his article he couldn’t eat them.

“Freak,” I uttered under my breath as I shivered in disgust.

Ophelia thrashed in her restraints. Thick black straps crossed her ample tits, pelvis, and forehead. The metal table rattled and I rolled my eyes. She’d break a bone if she carried on.

But that was my woman.

A fighter.

Fuck, I thrived on that about her.

The sight of her milky flesh was enough to bring my cock back to life, I had to readjust it in my jeans. The hardness of it was a pain that tented against the denim as it chafed.

Little witch.

“Seriously, Blake. This is not funny!” she screamed and I blew out a heavy breath.

Guess it was time to free her before she went and had an aneurysm before I could finish having my wicked fun with her. The best thing about her was that even though her fear was evident, she held a stronger irritation.

Defiance.

She wouldn’t let this mad man see her fear. She wouldn’t give him what he wanted most. She’d sooner die than fall prey any more than she had.

That was what got under her skin the most though.

Being prey at all.

And the injustice.

Cute.

Just as I stepped from the shadows Barry The Funky came back into the room knocking a steel tray as he passed. With a huge bottle of something clear in his hands, he placed it on the table beside Ophelia before he flicked off the cap and lifted it again.

“Get the fuck away from me you sick, twisted motherfucking fuck cunt!” she seethed with venom. I could almost feel the poison in her words lick against me as she spat them into the air around us.

“Hmm, hmmm, hmmm. Food, food, food,”I baulked when he started singing in such a low and drawn-out tone that he sounded like a sea creature luring sailors to their death.

“No, no! Fucking no!” she screamed as he dumped half a gallon of that clear liquid onto her flesh and then reached behind him to pick up large vials of seasoning that he sprinkled all over her.

I was too struck dumb to react as quickly as I intended and before I could blink, those insidious, vile little hands were all over my woman. Kneading the oil and seasoning into her skin with skilled fingers that were familiar with massaging their meat before butchering it.

Fuck no, Barry The Cannibal needed to die.

I was sure that Ophelia was watching me, but when my furious eyes flickered back toward her, to let her know I was coming, her eyes were trained to the ceiling. Her entire body was slack as she moaned in sultry sensation, “Oh, yeah. Skinner. That’s the spot.” When the man stilled, confusion furrowing his brows, she tutted, “No, no. Carry on now, that’s just where I needed you most.”

Cheeky little…

I once said anger wasn’t an emotion I was all too familiar with.

I lied.

Fury consumed me like a wildfire destroying an expanse of a miles-long forest and just as easily and as quickly as the foliage in those forests combusted, I went up in the flames of my rage.

I stalked from the shadows, switchblade in hand. As I stabbed it into the man’s shoulder and snarled, he bellowed a roar of pain. I drew the blade across the back of his neck and created small and painful wounds that would have burned just as soon as I ripped him away from her by my grip on the back of his neck. All of the clutter he had around us toppled over in my temper, I wasn’t clean or maintained when I thrashed him about like a fish out of water dying for the first drops of rain. I slashed and carved, gutting him everywhere my blade could reach in my unorganized attack and he sloppily struggled to defend himself.

“Don’t ever!” I hissed, unable to keep my furious tone even. “Touch what is mine.” When I spun, I saw the huge pot that was boiling in the corner. It was larger than an industrial pot and I turned my lips up in violation knowing what he was about to have used it for. I charged forward, the bubbled popping and hiss of the shimmering flow was sweet music to my ears while I shoved his head into it.

The water gurgled, sloshing around his head as he screamed into the heat that was peeling the flesh from his bones with such harrowing anguish that I would have felt a pang of something humane had he not just had his vile hands on my woman. One of my hands held his head in the pot, my skin was hidden under the chaos and as cold as ever. The other reached for the meat cleaver that hung above our head with other types of butchering knives and I yanked it from the hook to bring it thundering down on his right wrist, removing one of his hands before I moved on to the other.

By the time I got to the second hand, he was still, no longer fighting as he fell unmovable in the boiling water. I drew my blade across his throat for good measure, wanting to make sure he was dead before I turned around and prowled back toward Ophelia with vengeful wrath in my dark complexities. “Now, love… I am sure I misheard you, because there was no way my good girl encouraged another man to touch her, right?” I asked slowly as my eyes stalked her heaving chest wanting to see what was hidden beneath it.

“Now, love… I’m sure I misunderstood the situation because there was no way my man threw me to a cannibal to become a delectable snack of his, right?” she retorted with an arrogant look on her face and I sneered as I loomed over her.

“Such dangerous games you play, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m ready for my punishment now.” She smirked and I narrowed my eyes at her. She never seemed to not amaze me. Never seemed to not drive me rabid with a need so intoxicating that it burned hot like coals in my core. A parasite that fed from my bones. She was ingrained, carved, and etched into the very fibers of my dead being and I had no way to purge her from my system. “Would you really have let him eat me?” she asked, all sense of deflective humor gone.

“The thought of another man touching you drove me to cut off those very same hands that did… What do you think, love?”

Insecurity bled into her gaze and I smirked, knowing the perfect way to erase it. The steel blade glistened under the low and dim lights in the dungeon-like home we resided within. I placed the tip just above the thick strap that curved around her pelvic bone and she heaved a deep breath, holding the sharp and cold-sounding intake hostage within her lungs. Slowly, ever so fucking slowly I dragged that cool steel blade up her core, over her belly button, and just below the point of her sternum.

It was a smooth caress, one I’d designed to leave her guessing, right up until the moment I slipped it under the strap holding down her chest and cut it free, allowing her ample breasts to spill out from under the support and expose them to my dark and hungry eyes. “The only one who gets to eat these fine tits, sugar, is me,” I mused right before I descended like a vulture from the sky devouring its prey. I took her puckered bud into my mouth and teased her with the swirl of my tongue.

She gasped, all of that air she had held deep within her chest burst from her with a heated gust of arousal that had her moaning loudly. She writhed as much as she could, which wasn’t a lot considering her bottom half was restrained to the table. As I played with one sweet-tasting nipple, I pinched the other one and she hissed.

“Fuck! Oh, God!” she purred.

I stopped. Pulled back and looked her dead in the eye. “Do I look like a saint, darling?” I asked with dangerous, narrowed eyes. “Because I’d definitely class this as a sin.”

“Say it,” I ordered. “Say I’m your Devil.”

“You’re my Devil!” she cried, her thighs trembled as she quivered. “Blake, I can’t, not with my breasts. It drives me insane, it goes straight to my clit and I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t come. Please! Please, help me!”

How fucking beautiful she sounded when she begged with those thick and desirable lips of hers. The lips so sensually parted and opened for me.

My cock ached, was heavy, and pulsated under the need to drive into her wet cunt. I freed myself, allowing it to spring largely up against my core, then shook when the cool air kissed against my heated head of arousal. “You do such depraved and naughty things to my body, Soul Raiser. The body that hasn’t been alive in so many years. Why should I give you a reprieve when I can’t escape this sensation you’ve planted within me?” I moved around the table to stand by her head, the tip of my cock siding along the seams of her thick lips.

“Please!” she begged. “It’s started and I can’t stop it!”

“Can’t stop what, love?” I asked as I rocked and she opened her mouth to chase me.

“The need to come for you!”

“Ah, such a dilemma,” I mused as her frantic eyes followed mine as I descended again slowly to her heavy left breast, thrusting my cock fully into the back of her throat. “But I’m ravenous, babe. I guess you’ll just have to wait.” I took her perfect, rose-tipped nipple back into my mouth and trailed my blade back down her center, in the same taunting caress that had tears trailing down her cheeks. She gasped and choked, the struggle to adjust to my size and abrupt intrusion difficult.

But she did it and she did it fucking gloriously with an enthusiasm that had my balls drawn up tight.

There were no tears sweeter than the tears of pleasure.

When the blade stopped on top of the strap around the curve of her thighs, I continued until I could slip the knife under it. She moved her head to the side as I drew my hips backward and slipped free from her perfected mouth. “Blake!”

“That’s my name, love,” I whispered against her when I pulled back from her breast too, knowing my cool breath would torment her. “Oh, how wonderfully you beg for me. Tell me, Ophelia. Tell me how much you need it. How much you need me.” I flipped my knife, bringing the end of the handle to her weeping cunt, moving around the table so I had a better angle. I had to tighten my grip as it slipped through her heat easily with the slickness of her arousal. She moaned and it sounded feral, like the receptors of her brain were telling her that she was seduced and turned her into a savage that would fight for the high she craved the most.

“I need it! I need it, Blake, I need you! Please, oh Satan, please!” she wept, and I smirked. As I ran my thumb along the curve of her cheek, I gathered the tears at the exact same time I thrust the handle of the knife into her ready, wanton, and greedy cunt. “Oh, yes!” Her back arched as her pussy clenched. Her thighs trembled, the invasion tight as her legs were forced together.

“So fucking gorgeous, love,” I rasped as I withdrew the knife and thrust the end into her mouth as I sucked my thumb into mine.

Together, we both moaned and it was intoxicating.

“Taste yourself, sugar. Taste how fucking delectable you taste to me when I’m devouring nectar as addictive as yours.” I hummed, the vibration feathering down my flexed thumb. “These tears of lust? Just as addicting.”

Then I moved to the foot of the table and cut the straps. She sighed in relief and then gasped when I used the shredded fabric to tie her ankles to each leg of the steel table, spread eagle. My deft finger circled her clit, a sensual caress that had a mewl whispering from the back of her throat. Her head thrashed side to side and her knees bent and buckled as they tried to close and hold me where she needed me most.

I was entranced, my gaze entirely focused on her slick core and her captivating pussy. I was bewitched, unable to look away from her succulent pink folds that glistened and bloomed like the petals on a rose, exposing to me her ravishing cunt. I inserted the handle of the knife once again into her soaked core and started to fuck her slowly, experimentally. Enraptured by watching the way it moved in and out of her so perfectly. I stood fascinated as she panted and purred, crying out from the pleasure I was bestowing upon her.

“So, fucking wet for me,” I noted with appreciation that had her whimpering at my praise. “So, fucking good for me.”

“Blake!”

“Just one more moment, love. I want to remember this,” I whispered as I slowly bent at the waist to embed my face between her thighs. As the tender seconds passed, I moved my face closer, watching the knife intensely before I wrapped my cool mouth around her clit and sucked on her even more slowly than could be considered a tease.

It was more like a starving man eating the crumbs of his last slice of cake, savoring every bit with the intent to make it last forever.

I could feel the handle as it glided swiftly inside of her and strongly against my chin.

“Blake!” she roared, the steel table shaking as she writhed from my remarkable ability to take her to the cliff and dangle her from the edge of it without ever letting go.

“You brought me back from the dead, Soul Raiser. Let me enjoy this,” I hummed against her and she whimpered, flexing her lips and firmly pushing her core into me so her cunt was riding my face with the pressure she needed the most.

I lost my shit, all of my control withered and died, turning to ash that drifted around us as I consumed her. I picked up the pace and fucked her savagely with the handle as I feasted on her clit like a man possessed.

And I was…

Possessed.

Possessed with the need to taste her release as it slid down the back of my throat, dripping from my chin.

“No more games, Ophelia. Come. Come for me!” I demanded in a vicious snarl that told her I was close to my end.

Like the good girl that she was, she never kept me waiting. She exploded, gushing into my mouth as I sneered like a barbaric man with no control left at all. I swallowed her release and thrived for more as I pulled back, climbed her body, and thrust my cock deep into her core. Fully seated, I moaned into her ear, the pleasure too much of a burden to bear.

But suffer I would because no matter how torturous this was, she was still the best thing I’d ever felt. I wrapped my hand around her throat and unlike all the other times, this time I wanted her to see the abyss she dragged me from. She spluttered and choked as I flexed my hips and drove into her as I ventured beyond the hilt, wanting to be as deep inside of her as I could possibly go. She spluttered and choked, her eyes rolled back in her head and I grunted and groaned, so close to my end as I rutted into her with a wild and untamed abandon that made the table squeal beneath us.

“Come, Ophelia,” I demanded harshly. Desperately. “I want you to come for me again, love. Right. The Fuck. Now,” I gritted between clenched teeth, then snapped my tightly shut eyes open to watch the details of her face contort into a frantic and unbridled type of pleasure as I pinched her clit and together, we came undone in an explosion that was cosmic.

The entity of the galaxies fell down upon us as we danced amongst the stars.

“Holy fucking shit, Soul Raiser,” I breathed as I fell slack on top of her quivering form. “I’ll never tire of you.”

As I let go of her throat, her groggy eyes flutter open slowly as she rasped, “I should allow another man’s hands on me more often for a sweet fuck like that, baby.”

The fuck she say to me?

With a snarl, I cut the rest of her restraints and flipped her to her knees. As I climbed off the table, I yanked, bringing her with me. As her feet hit the ground, my hand in between her shoulder blades, I pushed her to fold over the table again and drove myself into her tight, tender, and raw cunt from behind. I fisted her hair, pulled her head back, and blew a cool breath along the column of her throat.

“Then, darling. I think I need to remind you why the fuck you’re mine.”

“Make Hate To Me” by Citizen Soldier bellowed around us and fuck me if that song wasn’t the mood for our next ball-achingly good fuck.