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28

IRIS

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Of course, it had to be him.

To be completely honest, I completely forgot that Sammy’s eyeball was hidden inside the meatball.

Oopsy?

But I have to say, the way he gazed at me while chewing on it was everything I had ever imagined. I don’t think today was the right day to provoke him, though, especially considering his mood.

Oh, well.

With each stride, I push myself through the rain-soaked woods, feeling the wetness seep into my clothes and my hair plastered against my face.

If what I’m wearing can even be considered clothing.

Bloody hell. After completing my last mission this afternoon, I rushed back home and indulged in a soothing shower before changing into one of Angel’s comfortable T-shirts.

Home.

That’s a weird thing to say.

Damn it, why did I leave the house without shoes?

Kai and his fucking no-shoes rule in the house.

I can feel every small needle from the trees piercing my feet.

The thunderstorm roars above me, matching the adrenaline coursing through my veins while my heart races.

The trees and the graves loom before me, and with every stride, it feels like I’m pushing through the exhaustion of a marathon.

“Seriously, God?” I groan out loud. “Can’t you be on my side today? Maybe make the rain a bit less… pronounced?”

The only answers I have are the deafening clap of thunder and the relentless downpour, drenching me more and more.

Fucking great.

I know it’s a bad idea, but going into the mausoleum feels like the best option right now. It’s the only dry spot nearby.

Mid-turn to the left, my world suddenly turns upside down as a hard object collides with the side of my head. I tumble to the ground, dazed and disoriented, only to find Kai standing over me, his mask concealing his features like a crazed beast stalking its prey.

“Ouch!” My hand automatically goes to my head, seeking relief from the sharp pain of the blow.

“I told you to run, didn’t I?” His head tilts to the side, and I feel the intensity of his diabolical green eyes piercing through me.

“I did, you maniac!” I shout, feeling the jolt as he effortlessly lifts me onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Not fast enough then, Poison.”

“Put me down!” I squirm and wiggle my feet, but his grasp on me remains unyielding. “I swear, I completely forgot about the eyeball.”

“Did you really? You picked the wrong day, Poison.”

As we enter the mausoleum, he emits a deafening roar that reverberates through my body.

“Wha—”

The cross presses against my body as he moves with an incredible speed, circling my wrists in a way I’ve never witnessed before, leaving me unable to react.

Without bothering to secure my feet, he begins pacing back and forth.

“What the fuck is this mess?”

I glance around, and indeed, the once crucified bodies now lay on the ground, forming a haunting tableau of death and destruction, surrounded by a pool of blood and gore.

The flickering candlelight amplifies every sound and casts eerie shadows on the walls.

But they’re not the only ones. Several bodies are scattered on the side of the room, some covered in black bags.

I’m responsible for the abundance of black bags, but in my defence, even the graves are overflowing. Where am I supposed to dispose of the bodies?

“Hold on. Why the hell do you have Medusa with you?”

He rushes back towards me, his footsteps echoing through the room as he swiftly spreads my legs and binds them tightly to each leg of the cross. He then retrieves an object from his pocket.

Is that… a fucking ball gag?

“Don’t you fucking da?—”

In no time at all, the ball gag is secured tightly in my mouth, making it difficult to fight the urge to retch.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

I observe him anxiously pacing back and forth, a sense of impending anger radiating from him.

“Are you responsible for this mess? Of course you are!”

Hey, it’s not fair to accuse me. It’s not my fault that there are five killers living in the same place.

With wet hair sticking to my face, I struggle to see him clearly in the dark room.

Which is a bummer because angry Kai is sexy as hell.

You’re helplessly bound and silenced on a cross, with your bleeding feet and a soaked T-shirt clinging to your shivering body in the icy rain. What the hell is wrong with you?

Leaning in, he inhales deeply before dragging Medusa’s handle over my stomach, simultaneously lifting my T-shirt and revealing my skin.

“You’re going to clean that up, Poison.”

My lips let out a muffled moan as he continues to drag Medusa over my bare skin.

“You’re not supposed to enjoy that, Poison.”

He mercilessly rips apart my underwear and brings them to his nose, taking a deep, unsettling breath.

“No. You definitely shouldn’t be enjoying that.”

The madness in his eyes becomes evident to me before he makes any move, causing Medusa to inch closer to my pussy.

“Let's see about that one.”

My head shakes in disbelief, but it’s in vain as the cold handle of my bat forcefully presses against my pussy, thrusting into me with a single, excruciating push, eliciting cries of pain.

“You took the three of us at once. And we’re not thin. I’m sure you can take her without any issue.”

Is he really comparing their dicks to my fucking bat?

The sensation intensifies as he thrusts deeper inside me, causing my cries to grow louder and more desperate.

Fuck, it’s as if a monster's cock was pounding into me.

My eyes roll back at the tension as I feel the dribble of saliva escaping from the gag in my mouth.

“See? I knew my slut could take it.”

It’s like he is possessed by an unstoppable energy, his thrusts demonstrating a level of control that is beyond human.

“Are you going to come all over your bat? Because I can feel you dripping all over it and over my hand.”

He leans in, his warm breath making the cold fabric of my T-shirt feel even colder, as he grabs one of my nipples between his teeth over the fabric.

I should feel ashamed, but damn, it feels good.

His eyes, filled with determination, meet mine as he removes his mask, emitting a primal grunt.

“I want you to look at my monster when you come.”

I shake my head vigorously, my voice muffled by the tight gag.

If he can be considered a monster, then we are all in the same category.

The sound of his devious laugh pierces through the silence, leaving an unsettling sensation in my bones.

“You don’t want to come?”

I nod, my head bobbing up and down while also swaying side to side in contradiction.

As the spike of Medusa makes contact with my skin, my screams become increasingly deafening. I can feel the scratches slicing through my skin, opening it up.

“Come for me, Poison,” he groans, his voice laced with urgency as the sensation of warm blood between my legs intensifies.

My body convulses uncontrollably, my hands straining against the restraints as waves of pleasure crash over me while his movements intensify with each passing moment.

“That’s it. Let your bat fuck your cunt while you’re coming on it.”

The intense pleasure of my orgasm consumes me, causing my body to convulse and my head to collide forcefully with the cross behind me.

The wetness on my inner thighs mingled with the metallic scent of blood as he leisurely removed the bat before teasingly licking it.

Fuck. That was… unexpected.

As he takes off the gag ball, I feel an immediate relief in my throat and let out a series of coughs.

“You’re not a monster,” I manage to choke out, my voice strained from the burn in my throat.

“Am I not?” He gestures to his face. “Those scars have been carved into my skin by a monster.”

From the scar on his cheek to the one on his nose, it’s clear that neither injury has been properly treated.

“You’re not him!”

He removes his wet T-shirt, dripping with water, and casually tosses it onto the ground, making a makeshift bed for Medusa.

“And that?” He gestures to the scar that ran from his neck all the way down to the centre of his torso, stopping abruptly where a massive burn mark begins.

Strangely, his tattoos seem to mirror each of his scars.

“You’re not a monster,” I repeat.

“Screwdriver,” he motions towards his face, showing the scar on his nose and cheek. “Cigarette burns,” he points to the tiny white dots scattered across his torso. “Knife.” His hand glides over the scar on his neck. “Burning pot,” he gestures towards the burn mark in the centre of his torso. “Knife,” he lifts his hand where his pinky finger is missing, “I was conscious for each of them, so don’t tell me I’m not a monster because I am one,” he states with a haunting look in his eyes. “A broken one.”

My heart sinks for him, and a fiery sensation surges through my veins.

“It all began when I was just 4 years old, and it came to an end when I turned 10.” His laugh, menacing and desperate, echoes like the wail of a wounded animal. “He was a dysfunctional, alcoholic wreck, consumed by a relentless need for cleanliness and order.”

That explains everything.

His need for control. To have everything clean.

“Did he…”

I remember him asking me if my sperm donor had touched me. If a similar experience happened to him, that could explain his aversion to people getting close to him.

“Ask what you want to know now because once we leave, I won’t entertain any further questions.”

Our breaths mirror each other, rising and falling in sync, both driven by the raging fire of anger.

I close my eyes, take in a deep breath through my nostrils, and gently ask, “Did he have any physical contact with you?”

His head bobs down as if he was ashamed. “He did.”

“Who?” I don’t even recognise my voice.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me who the fuck did that to you?”

When he raises his head, his eyes sparkle with a glimmer that reveals no tears, yet the pain he carries is unmistakable.

“My father.”

He is a fucking dead man.

My own tears cascade down my face in silence as I whisper, “Detach me.”

“Ir—”

“Detach me, for Christ’s sake!” I shout.

Reluctantly, he releases my legs and arms from the cross, taking several steps back to avoid any contact with me.

Stripping off my drenched T-shirt, I am left standing naked, the sensation of the warm blood coursing between my legs intensifying as I make my way towards him.

“If you are a monster, so are we,” I lean my hand towards his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his body, but he stops it with a firm grip. “These marks are a part of you, and they make you beautiful.”

His intense gaze never wavers from mine as he finally releases my hand.

My fingers glide languidly over his torso, detecting his discomfort and the prickling sensation of goosebumps beneath my touch, but I refuse to halt.

“You like things in order, and perhaps you inherited that trait from him, but I fail to see that as a fault.”

“It’s a fucking disease.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not. You have your reason for it, and we all respect that. Nobody has an issue with it.”

I feel his fingertips softly brushing away the tears that are streaming down my cheeks. “I’m broken.”

“So am I. My father killed my mum in front of me. He tried to rape me before stabbing me and leaving me for dead.” I inhale. “I may not have experienced even a fraction of what you have, but we all carry our own wounds.”

Despite his resistance, my hands continue their journey up his body, causing him to shake his head in disapproval.

“I don’t know why I told you that. What are you doing to me, Lily Adams?”

I cringe at my name on his lips.

“Simple. Because you trust me. Because I am yours as much as you are mine.”

“Are you?”

I smile. “Between all of you, you each bring out my wild and unpredictable side, making it impossible for me to choose.”

“Good thing we like to share.”

“As if you had any choice on that matter,” I lean in, standing on my tiptoes to reach his lips and give him a soft, lingering kiss. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Don’t mistake me for Arch. I’m not the sweet one.”

A smirk forms on my face. “No doubt about it. Are you going to fuck me, or shall I take care of it my?—”

In a split second, he swiftly turns me around and pushes my body forward onto the open tomb, my head inches away from the edge.

Shit, they have a body inside it.

“You want me to take this cunt? My cunt?”

“Yes. Take it.”

I feel him dropping to his knees, his warm tongue caressing the blood inside my thighs, causing me to moan.

“I forgot how pain can be a motivating force for you.”

“I’ll never ask you to?—”

“You don’t have to. What do you need?”

My head instinctively turns towards the flickering candle, but I quickly shake my head.

I can’t do that to him. Not after everything he told me.

But he pays no attention to me. Instead, he follows my gaze and reaches for a candle, clasping it in his hand.

“Kai,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I cautiously trail the flickering flame approaching me.

The image of a small Kai struggling with constant burn sends a surge of emotion through my heart.

I don’t want him to do it.

The intensity of my tears increases just before he kisses my back, heightening the rawness of the moment.

“I’m fine,” he reassures me. “The flame won’t touch you, but the wax will.”

I turn to face him. If he has to do anything that’s overwhelming for him, I need to witness it firsthand.

I let my hand glide across his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingers. “If it’s too much.”

“We don’t do sweetness, Poison.” He smirks. “Now, don’t make me gag you again,” he warns, lifting me and settling me on the edge of the tomb. I can feel the cold stone against my legs as he secures them around his hips. “Even though you look pretty with this gag in your mouth.” He forcefully grabs my choker, pulling me closer to him.

“You better not break Bart 2.0,” I warn.

“I’m sure Theo would make another one for you.”

A third one? I doubt it.

The sight of his brown skin against my creamy complexion is mesmerising as he leans in, bringing the candle nearer and letting a small droplet of wax land on my neck.

“You know what would be beautiful on your skin?”

“Wh-what,” I moan, feeling the warm wax drip between my chest, the combination of warmth and pain intensifying my emotions.

“My ink. You have Eli’s and Arch’s on you.”

“Jealous?” A sob escapes me as the hot wax drips onto the sensitive skin between my thighs.

“If you’re ours, it’s only right that you proudly display the marks I will leave on you.”

He gently spreads apart my sensitive skin causing a shiver to run down my spine, then delicately lets the hot wax fall onto my throbbing clit, eliciting an uncontrollable cry of pleasure from deep within me.

Fuck.

If he wants to mark me, he can have at it as long as he never stops what he’s doing.

Letting go of the candle, he emits a low, guttural growl as he forcefully plunges two fingers inside me, eliciting a loud moan from my lips.

“Fucking soaked.”

My eyes briefly dart towards the bulge beneath his joggers, but he quickly intercepts my attempt to touch it.

“Unless you’re ready to kneel down, my advice is to keep your hands off it.”

“Is this meant to be a warning?” I arch my brow, slowly descending from my spot to kneel before him. “Because there’s nothing more that I would love than to taste the sensations of your piercings against my tongue.”

“Is that so?” Pulling down his joggers, he proudly displays a throbbing, heavily veined cock, the glint of his piercings catching the light as his thumb traces over each one. “Open up then.”

As I lick my lips in anticipation, I open my mouth wider, inching closer to take his shaft inside.

“Not so fast, Poison. Your craving was for the taste, but mine is for you to feel the touch of each one against the back of your throat.”

Fuck. Me.

With a tight grip on my head, he steadily moves forward, his cock sliding into my mouth. The seven piercings on his shaft graze against my throat, leaving an unforgettable sensation.

“Do you feel them?”

The only response I have is the sensation of my tongue swirling against each of them, and I can’t deny that I enjoy it.

I suck and hollow my cheeks, feeling him slide deeper into my mouth.

I’m so turned on that I wouldn’t be shocked to find a pool of my arousal gathering at my feet.

“Of course, you fucking feel them,” he growls, his grip on my hair becoming tighter as he thrusts forcefully into my mouth, triggering my gag reflex to its maximum limit. I feel the rhythmic pulsations of his shaft’s veins as he pulls out. “As much as I love the warmth of your mouth, I need your cunt right now.”

My arms are seized tightly as he effortlessly lifts me up, gently guiding me back to the edge of the tomb. He quickly retrieves a knife from his joggers, which is positioned just above his knees, and then places himself between my legs. The touch of his hands sends tingles down my spine as he meticulously removes each patch of wax, starting with the one on my clit, and soothing the sensation with a gentle lick.

A deep, primal groan escapes my lips, my head rolling back and my eyes closing in ecstasy.

“I must admit, those marks are fucking beautiful on you.” He gives a last lick on my nipple before thrusting into me. “Fuuuck. So slick and warm for me.”

I can feel his hand firmly gripping my hip, providing stability as the cold metal of the knife brushes against my skin. The thrusts continue without hesitation while his other hand tightens around my throat, intensifying the sensation.

“I wish Bella were here to choke you,” he groans. “Your spell reached even her, captivating her completely.”

As he thrusts, I somehow find the strength to utter, “I don’t think I have any type of power.”

“Oh, no? So how do you explain that everyone has been infatuated with you? How do you put into words the way I let my guard down and opened up to you? How do I make sense of the fact that I allow you to touch me intimately or have unprotected sex with you if it wasn’t some kind of magical influence?” The tightness of his fingers around my carotid constricts my airway, leaving me gasping for breath as the glinting knife blade hovers dangerously close to my throat. “Maybe it’s those captivating eyes of yours, unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

The combination of his forceful thrusts and his words is pushing me closer to the brink of my orgasm, leaving me unable to utter a single word.

“So, what is it if it’s not a spell?”

The sharp blade pierces my skin, causing a searing pain to shoot through my body. With precision, he follows the line of my neck, dangerously close to my choker.

“Fuuuck,” I choke out. “More,” I murmur, his tongue trailing along my neck to savour the taste of the blood. Without hesitation, he repeats the motion, sliding the blade to the side.

“I can feel you getting more slick by the minute. Are you going to come for me, Poison?” He sensually cleans the blood off the knife before pressing his lips against mine, making me experience the taste of my own essence.

“Y-yes.”

He slows down his pace and smirks at me before pulling out.

“Hmm, I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“W-what are you doing?”

What the hell? I was so close.

“I said… I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“Don’t be a fucking dick!”

He lets out a devilish laugh. “I don’t think it’s the right thing for you to say if you want to come.”

“Kale,” I plea.

“Poison, Poison, Poison… I’m afraid you’ll have to beg if you want something from me.”

Fucking twat.

“I don’t beg.”

“Fine.”

He takes a step back, but I stop him by grabbing his cock.

“Please. Kai. I need you.”

“You need me, or you need my cock?”

“Both, you bastard.”

“That was so sweetly requested.” He smirks before stepping forward and thrusting back into me.

“Fuuuck, yes!” I moan.

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Don’t you fucking dare take your cock away from me!”

I swear to God, if he does that ever again, I’ll cut it off and tie it to his finger trophy dream catcher, whatever he wants to call it.

He grabs my throat and pulls my face close to his.

“Who do you belong to?”

“I…”

“Who do you belong to, Lily?” His thrusts are merciless, leaving no room for escape.

“Yo—you.”

“Wrong answer. You belong to all of us. Do you understand that? You can’t escape from us, no matter how hard you try.”

His words are the ultimate breaking point; as I reach the peak of my pleasure, my body vibrates like a powerful explosion.

The sound of my scream reverberates throughout the mausoleum, filling the empty space with a chilling resonance.

“That’s it. I want to feel you dripping all over my cock. Show me who owns you.”

With each passing second, my orgasm intensifies as he maintains his pace, my vision blurring and causing my head to instinctively fall backwards, my eyes tightly shut in a silent cry.

“Beautiful screams,” he grunts, his thrusts reverberating through the room, followed by his primal moans intertwining with mine as he releases inside me.

Our heavy panting and profuse sweating fill the air as he rests his head against my breast, trying to recover his breath.

“Good girl,” he whispers against my skin as he pulls out.

With a gentle touch, his hand travels to my inner thighs, where he carefully collects the remnants of his spilled cum and pushes it back inside me. He repeats the action, this time bringing his hand to my mouth, silently asking me to open it and taste the mixture of our fluids.

He lets out a groan, the sound filled with a mix of pleasure and desire, as he watches me sensually clean his fingers with my tongue, erasing any evidence of us.

“You took your bat and my cock tonight. I don’t think you’ll have room for anything else.”

“As if one of them will touch me,” I scoff.

He helps me stand up, but damn, it feels like I’ve been fucked by a truck.

Not that I have any comparison whatsoever.

“So, you’re still in your little vendetta?” He raises his brow.

“Me? Of course.”

What a silly question.

“About the food thing…”

“You better not pull that shit again.”

“I swear, I completely forgot about it.”

Which is true.

“But you enjoyed watching me eat it.”

True again.

That was funny to see.

“Let’s get home.”

Glancing down, I take in the sight of our clothes drenched from the rain and my feet, which are still bleeding.

“Does the princess need to be carried?”

“Fuck off, Kale. I can walk. Thank you very much.”

“Good. And you’ll bring the boys with you to clean up this mess.” He glances at me. “Tonight.”

“Fine,” I groan, feeling the dampness of the soaked T-shirt cling to my skin. “Let’s get home first.”