Page 20

His fly is still undone, and he tugs on the band of his boxers to free his dick.

How the fuck is he still hard? I have no reference to know how long I’ve been unconscious for, but it has to have been a significant length of time for him to chain me up and place candles on me. Has he been hard all this time?

There’s dried blood smeared along his length, and he spits down, wetting it before he strokes himself from base to tip.

I clench my thighs together as he rolls his palm over the glistening tip, making the Gorgon head inked on the back of his hand come to life.

The side of the face I couldn’t make out is now in full view with the candle flames flickering over it.

The part-woman inked on his hand is made up of half of my features.

The eye is a white orb, and the hair is made of snakes, but it’s me .

Those are my features beside a terrifying skull with a beetle crawling out of its decaying eye socket.

“Are you going to burn me?” I whisper up at him.

He drops one knee to the floor and pushes his thumb over my teeth. “I should.”

“But you won’t,” I finish with hope in my voice.

“Not yet, koukla mou. You still haven’t made me come.”

He tugs on my bottom teeth, pulling my head down to meet his dick. My hair falls in a curtain around my face and drapes over the tops of his thighs. It manages to not be pushed into flames as he swaps his thumb for his dick and thrusts up into my mouth.

I gag instantly, trying to breathe through my nose as the heat on my back gets closer. There’s no gentleness though. He holds my head with both hands and fully kneels to fuck up into my face. Wax slips over the well in the candles and I moan around him as it splashes against my back.

“I fucking hate you,” he grits as he pulls my head down, so my nose is buried against his groin.

I’m tilted further, the candles leaning at a precarious angle and the warmth of the wax racing along my spine to my nape.

It flows the other direction as Kane buries himself in my throat.

The wax cools as it travels along the curve of my ass, and I swallow around him.

The thick candles wobble on my back, the bases tugging at my skin as the wax securing them in place cracks from the momentum, but he doesn’t slow. He speeds up, and I hug his thighs with both arms as my knees scrape against the rough floor.

“I fucking hate you!”

I nod, slowly moving my tongue side to side against the underside of his dick resting against my tongue.

“I wish I never met you,” he groans, wrapping my hair around each of his fists to form handlebars. I’m roughly pulled off him as he tugs, and I choke down air as he grits, “What the fuck are you?”

The wax pools at my nape, slipping around my collarbones as the drips cool before they can hit the floor and hang from my chest like small, rounded icicles. He pulls harder. And I breathlessly answer, “Yours?”

The wax forms an armor around my shoulders in different colors—some red, some white, and some black. But they run into and over each other like Kane’s own distorted art show.

“Wrong.” He spits into my mouth. “You are my fucking whore. Beg. Fucking beg me to abuse that throat of yours.”

My sick brain ignores his sadistic actions like they’re cancelling each other out.

It only focuses on his pale green eyes in front of me.

How, even with the balaclava covering the rest of his features and the only light being from the candles, he is still Kane.

The only person who never expected anything from me and showed me true, unconditional love.

The type of love that sinks into a person’s bones and makes the shit days worth living.

The type of love worth killing for, and any lie or betrayal was worth it because at the end of every day, when the stars were shining, I got to bask in it.

Those memories are why I plead, “Fuck me, Kane. Use me and let me feel you every time I talk.”

Using his hold on my hair, he drags me to sit up and slams his lips over mine. The candles rip off their thick melted perch and clatter to the floor as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. I lift up on my aching knees and crawl forward to straddle him.

The chain attached to the collar gets trapped between our bodies. Cold, harsh metal digs into my ribs, and I moan into his mouth as my nipple is pushed between the links. Wrapping both arms around me, he raises to his full height and smiles. He fucking smiles .

The happy Kane, who found joy in the small things, is back.

His smile turns sinister as he holds my ass and grinds me against his hard dick, whispering, “You’ll never be able to forget me after this.”

It sounds like a threat, but he doesn’t allow me any time to translate what it could mean as he pushes into me in one brutal thrust. The chains rattle, and my scream echoes around the room.

He wraps his hand around the chain, twisting my nipple within the links, prolonging my scream.

Biting into the side of my jaw, he fucks up into me.

My nails score across his nape, and I lock my ankles together at his back. The wild movements cause sweat to bead against the full length of my back as the glow gets brighter, bathing everything in orange light.

I thread my fingers through his hair and reach my other hand between our bodies. As soon as I brush his sternum, he releases me. My hip and shoulder take the brunt of the impact as I fall against the warmed floor with a thud . He steps back, proud, with his dick glistening.

The warmth of the candles increases, spreading out towards me, and he pulls on the chain faster than I can sit myself up. I’m dragged closer to him, but he doesn’t touch me. He uses the metal links like a leash until I’m kneeling at his feet.

My chest is red from the abrasion of the chain as he threads his fingers through the strands at my crown. They curl in, scraping against my scalp as he whips the chain to the side, swinging it back to clip my thigh. I whimper at the harsh metal striking my skin as he orders, “Suck.”

He doesn’t use his full force when he whips me.

Just enough for me to feel the cold, light taps against my heated skin.

Each swing of the chain pulls my nipple as he pushes his dick between my lips.

Between the jolts and tugging, I’m unprepared, and my mouth doesn’t open wide enough.

My teeth scrape against the sides of his length, and he slaps his fingers against my forehead.

“No fucking teeth, or I’ll remove them.”

When I relax my jaw, he softens his hand on my face to cup my cheek. He slowly thrusts forward, feeding me his dick until there’s only an inch left.

Kane softly strokes my cheek as he asks, “Do you want to live, koukla mou?”

My brows come together as I look up and breathe through my nose.

I don’t notice his hand tightening on the chain because he gently combs his fingers through my hair above my ear until he curls them in, forming a fist with the strands tightly clasped in his palm.

The cut opens, little drops of blood clinging to my scalp as he harshly repeats, “Do you want to live?”

I don’t know how to answer.

It’s an easy question, yet I don’t know how to fucking answer.

So, I don’t.

I simply act like he hasn’t spoken and ignore the world, ignore him, as I push my head forward and hollow my cheeks. Spit runs from the corner of my lips, and I gag, my eyes rolling back. He doesn’t move, content with me taking control, so I speed up.

The sound of my moaned gags mix with a faint crackle as he loses his statuesque position. His hips slam into me, the edge of his zipper scraping against my chin and the collar tightening around my throat.

“Fucking demon,” he groans.

We both move faster, wilder, eager for his release.

The crackling intensifies along with the heat as he drops the chain to pinch my nose closed with his thumb and forefinger.

I push against his thighs, my palms slamming into him and turning red, but he forces his hips forward.

The dried wax on my back softens, making it easier to move, but he continues fucking my throat.

I can’t breathe and the heels of my palms ache from the force I’m using to get him off me.

“Knock,” he grits.

Thrust.

“Knock.”

Thrust.

“Koukla.”

Thrust.

“Mou.”

There’s no space for air as he roughly drags my head forward.

His thighs are rigid under my hands. The smaller pieces of wax melt and slowly trickle over my ass to my thighs as Kane comes.

His fingers remain on my nose, and my vision blurs at the edges.

My arms fall limp, and my head sways as he curls his fingers under my jaw.

A line of spit keeps us connected as he pulls out of my mouth and spits down against my stinging lips.

“You always liked fire,” he says, letting me go.

My body is so focused on air that I don’t brace for impact as the chains clang against the floor and he calmly tucks his dick away. The smell hits me before anything else. Burning.

You always liked fire.

My lungs ache as the only air I’m able to get is tainted. The thick, gray plumes float over my body, only broken up by the bottom of his boot brushing my elbow as he steps over me. Kane doesn’t turn around. Turning onto my back, I watch him, and the small fire burning on the rug is in my periphery.

He’ll get something to put it out. It’s not big enough to cause damage yet, and he’ll come back.

But he doesn’t. He continues walking, and I flinch as the crackling turns to a roar. The flames dance, licking the edges of the walls, the floor, anything that it can reach. It slowly travels across the floor, eating up the vinyl and sending up black smoke as I scream, “KANE!”

The chains rattle as I force myself up and look for anything to get them off me or to stop the spread of the fire.

“KANE! COME BACK!”

My foot slips against something wet as I run to the other side of the room.

The floor peels away, melting under the heat, and I drop to my knees as I attempt to pull the chains free from the leg of the bed.

The frame is heavier than it used to be, and I pull the mattress to the edge to see a block of cement covering the base of the bed.

Where there should be slats, there’s just gray fucking cement.

“KANE!”

My shoulder aches as I push my entire weight into the side of the bed to get it to move. It doesn’t fucking budge as the chain jolts around it. The wood is dented from the metal, and I sit on my ass, then plant my feet against the side panel, and pull on the chain like it will pull through the leg.

“Kane, please,” I sob as the flames get higher. Soot sticks to the walls and dirties the magnolia paint. “Please, come back.”