Page 88

EIGHTY-EIGHT

AMETHYST

My muscles ache from practicing all day, but for the first time since Jake turned up at my doorstep, I feel a semblance of control.

At least I know who wants me dead and their reasons why. And I know I’m not being haunted by a vengeful ghost. Xero’s presence is overwhelming enough to chase away my hallucinations, even if he is overbearing.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful. Grateful for his continued existence. Grateful for his protection. Grateful for his presence.

Thanks to Xero, I’m no longer alone, but I’ve lost that tiny window of agency I had over my life when we were pen pals. I’ve gone from overmedicated to under his thumb.

I hate feeling powerless, but something has changed. Despite my loss of control, he makes me feel alive. Xero is the spark that lights me up even in the darkest moments. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating.

Being with him has awakened feelings I never thought existed. A delicious thrill, a twisted sense of connection—all of it makes me feel more awake than I can ever remember.

And here he is, working to keep me safe, no matter how much I bitch and moan. Even when I tire of the constant push and pull, miss the quiet certainty I had before, or long for the simplicity of our letters, he gives me what I need to survive, to be stronger. Or maybe it’s just another way to lose myself.

Only time will tell.

“Get on the bed and roll onto your front,” he barks.

Remembering this is a training exercise, I rise off the bed and back toward the door. “Don’t touch me.”

My heart pounds with exhilaration. The most important part about escaping bindings is not letting the bastards tie me up.

Xero stands, his massive frame taking up the entire room. He’s so tall he has to bend his neck forward to avoid hitting the ceiling, yet the awkward angle of his head only makes him look more sinister.

Still moving backward, I glance from side to side, looking for a weapon to keep Xero at bay. My gaze lands on a gun lying on the dresser. Xero lurches forward to grab it, but I’m faster.

“That’s right,” I snarl. “Stay back.”

He grins. “Are you going to shoot me, little ghost?”

“If you come any closer, I’ll fill you with bullets,” I say, my voice trembling.

He raises his palms to shoulder height, but nothing in his expression says he’s about to surrender. When he steps forward to close the distance, my fingers find the trigger.

“You’re supposed to stop,” I say. “I’ve got a gun.”

“Firearms are pointless if you’re not prepared to use them.” He rushes forward, grabs my wrist, and snatches the pistol from my trembling fingers.

My stomach lurches. “Wait. How did you?—”

He presses the gun into my temple. “Now, you’re at my mercy. Get on the bed and lie on your front.”

“No,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Or I’ll shoot.”

“You won’t.”

“Why not?” he asks with a sneer.

“Because no one’s going to pay ninety-nine dollars for a movie where I die from a gunshot wound to the head.”

He chuckles. “Clever little ghost. What are you going to do now?”

I elbow him in the rib, but it only makes him grunt. When that doesn’t work, I spin around, grab his erection through his pants, and twist.

“Fuck,” he roars.

Warm satisfaction inflates my chest. I grapple for the gun, but he holds it out of reach. When punching him in the chest only hurts my fists, I realize my mistake and head toward the door.

Xero grabs a handful of my hair, but I already know this move. Turning back toward him, I strike at his throat. It’s enough to make him stagger back and release his grip, so I return to the door.

It’s locked.

Shit.

Strong arms grab me around the waist and lift me off my feet. Stomach lurching, I shriek loud enough to disturb all the skeletons in the catacombs.

Clamping a hand over my mouth, he carries me back to the bed, his grip around my body so tight that I can’t wriggle free.

My pulse quickens, and sweat breaks out across my brow. What am I missing? We didn’t cover this in any of today’s lessons. I bite his finger, but the pain only makes him groan with need.

Oh, shit. I forgot he’s also a masochist.

He hurls me face-first into the mattress. Before I can even process the impact, his large hand presses down between my shoulder blades, keeping me pinned to the soft surface.

“Xero,” I yell into the comforter. “You’re cheating.”

He spanks my ass so hard that my muscles stiffen. Then one of his hands parts my cheeks, exposing my not-so-virginal pucker.

“I want to split you open with my cock,” he growls. “Make you scream.”

When he spits on my anus, my pussy clenches. What the hell is happening, and why does my body think this is exciting?

Xero told me earlier I wouldn’t like the punishment. I need to take control of the situation and claim my reward. Twisting to the side, I try to roll onto my back, but a heavy weight lands on my spine.

“No moving,” he growls.

“Get fucked.”

His fingers slide down to my wet pussy. “That’s the plan. ”

Frustration simmers like a kettle boiling on the stove, increasing in intensity and heat. “How am I supposed to escape when you weigh half a ton?”

He leans so close that his hot breath warms the side of my ear. “Girls who survive don’t complain about the unfairness of their situations. They act.”

I try bucking him off, but I may as well be moving a mammoth. I’m trapped beneath his impossible weight, my muscles burning with the effort.

My jaws clench. This exercise is bullshit. He’s rigged it so there are no openings for me to exploit. I can’t win, so I stop fighting.

Xero’s finger circles my pucker, making every nerve ending there sing. Then another finger reaches down to stroke my swollen clit. Arousal surges to my core, and the muscles of my pussy clench. I exhale a shuddering breath, trying to fight back a moan.

When he pulls my wrists together, I don’t wriggle or fight back. Anything I do will be futile, so I let him attach the zip ties.

Xero raises my hips and forces my legs apart, so my face is in the mattress with my ass and pussy on display.

“What a pretty little cunt,” he growls, his fingers pushing my lips apart. “Does it taste as good as it looks?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” I mutter into the cushions.

“Looks like we’ll all get a taste of her before she even reaches the studio,” he says with a dangerous amount of bite.

“Get on with it, then.” I wiggle my ass from side to side.

The spank he delivers is so sharp that pain explodes across my skin, gathering directly to my clit. I hiss through my teeth, my eyes watering.

Shit. He didn’t even spank me this hard when I threw cereal in his face.

He grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling it tight enough to sear my follicles. “I know what you’re doing, little ghost, and it won’t work.”

“Oh?” I ask, trying to conceal the pain. “And what’s that?”

“Trying to frustrate me.” He gives my head a little shake to punctuate his point. “You think you’re safe because I swore to protect you from those bastards, but no one’s here to protect you from me. Now, break through these zip ties and fight for your life.”

“Or what?” I snap. “You’ll fuck me hard and fast with your huge, pierced cock? Oh, no.”

“Not quite,” he says in a low growl that makes every fine hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Something cool and metallic slides up my inner thigh, sending a shiver through my entire body.

My pussy clenches.

He’s going to fuck me with the gun.

Just like that filthy book where the villain forced her to play pussy roulette. Just like the thirst traps where the masked man brandishes a weapon he wants to use on the viewer as a sex toy.

I part my thighs, my breath quickening, the muscles in my pussy quivering at the prospect of being degraded by an insane serial killer who broke out of Death Row.

The pulse behind my clit pounds so hard that my pussy feels like a raw nerve. Xero doesn’t know who he’s messing with. This is so unbelievably hot.

“Take me seriously, little ghost,” he snarls, his voice dropping even lower.

Shivers scatter up and down my spine, settling in my quivering core. He doesn’t realize how many times I’ve stroked myself to oblivion from this fantasy.

When the cold metal slides on my labia, I moan.

Xero chuckles, the sound harsh. “Do you think I forgot the part of our sex contract where you underlined gunplay? Or how you’d come extra hard every time I mentioned pounding your perfect pussy with my pistol?”

I shake my head, but that only earns me another spank.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snarls. “Beak through these zip ties or face cruel and unusual punishment.”

“No,” I snap. “I’m tired of these exercises. You keep switching up on me and adding things I don’t know how to combat.”

“Explain.” He pulls away the gun.

“How can I fight when you’ve lifted me off my feet or if you’re crushing me with your weight? ”

He exhales. It’s one of those strangled sounds people make when they’re trying to hold back a tirade. “There isn’t enough time in the world for me to teach you every single scenario. You have to improvise.”

“Oh? And how am I going to think outside the box with only a day’s training and against a psycho who can counter my every move?”

His hand closes in around the back of my neck, and he lifts my head off the mattress to glare into my eyes. I’ve never seen him look so furious, not even when he was swinging the ax on my attackers. If filthy looks could kill, then I’d already be sashimi.

“Attitudes like that will get you captured and killed,” he says through clenched teeth, looking so ferocious that I can barely breathe. “You have a count of five to comply, or else. One.”

He’s bluffing.

A man like Xero Greaves wouldn’t kill me over something so trivial, not when he wants to keep me at his side to torment for an eternity.

If I continue holding out, I’ll frustrate him enough to run through some more training scenarios.

“Give it your best shot,” I say with a smirk.

“Two.”

His footsteps retreat toward the door, confirming my suspicions. This is where he grounds me or puts me in a time-out.

“Three.”

At the sound of something snapping, I raise my head. Xero bends with his back to me, facing the skeleton.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He turns around, holding an entire leg. “Detaching this femur from the patella. Four.”

My breath catches, and my heart slams against its cage. Terror snakes up my spine and around my ribs, its coils squeezing my lungs.

“Why?” I rasp.

He advances on me with a grin, those cold blue eyes sparkling with malice. My prey instincts scream at me to break free of the zip ties before he reaches five, but morbid curiosity keeps me rooted to the mattress .

“You already know what’s going to happen,” he says as he drops the shin and foot bones to the floor with a terrifying thud. “Five.”

Oh.

Shit.

“Xero,” I rasp. “Think about this for a minute. You’ve made your point. I’ll be good, okay?”

“Time’s up, little ghost.” He raises the thigh bone. “When I give you an order, you’ll remember that I carry out all my threats.”

I raise my upper body off the mattress, trying to escape, but Xero rushes to my side and grabs my throat.

“You can take this femur like a good girl, or you can take it like a bad one. It makes no difference to me. Either way, this bone is going deep into your cunt.”

His words rattle through my skull, making me rethink every life choice that got me to this moment. Bitterness coats my tongue and I swallow hard, my sinuses filling with the coppery scent of fear.

“Xero, please.”

Ignoring me, he walks around the bed, still clutching that infernal bone. I shuffle to the other side, trying to get away, but he grabs my ankle and yanks me back.

With a scream, I skid across the mattress, my nipples hardening as they graze over the cushions he stole from my room.

“No running away now, little ghost.”

“You’re getting off on this,” I snarl. “You sick freak.”

“I don’t see you breaking out of the zip ties,” he says, his voice thickening with lust.

Something round and smooth presses into my entrance, and my body goes rigid. It’s cool and hard, and I can already tell it’s the bone.

My heart pounds so fast its vibrations reach my pussy, which pulses against the foul object he’s running up and down my soaking slit. The wet noises are so obscene that I can’t believe they’re coming from me. When the bone grazes my clit, it feels like a lightning rod delivering volts of ecstasy.

What the hell is wrong with my body? Doesn’t it realize Xero is using me to desecrate a corpse ?

“This is so wrong,” I say, my voice breathy. “Not even you can be this perverted. Have some respect for the dead.”

He only laughs. “If you want me to stop, you know exactly what to do.”

“Fuck you,” I scream.

He pushes the femur into my pussy, but it’s so oddly shaped that it feels like he’s splitting me in two. Its broad surface has no give and is wider than even Xero’s cock.

Pain and pleasure mingle until I’m lost in a humiliating storm, my lips parting with a guttural moan. The bone stretches my pussy beyond what’s natural, making my muscles fight to accommodate this ghastly girth.

“Xero,” I croak.

“This is what you want,” he says through panting breaths as he pushes the bone deeper into my pussy.

Its uneven surface drags against every pleasure center, igniting violent shocks of pleasure. I close my eyes, my entire body falling limp at the excruciating sensation of being filled with something so foul.

Xero Greaves is fucking me with a human bone he probably picked up from the catacombs.

“Oh, God,” I moan.

“God isn’t in this crawlspace with us, but I’m about to make you pray for forgiveness.”

Tears burn my eyes, but I’m determined not to cry. I’ve never felt so sullied, never felt so stuffed.

“You’re taking this femur so well.”

“Fuck off,” I yell.

“I was going to rub your clit to help you along,” he growls into my ear. “But thanks to that little outburst, you’ll have to make do with the bone.”

“I hate you.”

“Say that again.” He pushes the bone deeper.

“I hate you!”

“I hate you too,” he says with so much affection that I wonder if he even understands the word.

He pushes the bone in and out, dragging its knobbly surface back and forth against my g-spot. Pressure builds up in my core, making me clench my teeth.

I don’t want to climax from a stranger’s remains. That would make me a necrophiliac. He’s the twisted pervert, not me.

“Please,” I rasp, the words coming out stuttered. “Touch me. Please.”

“What a transparent little ghost,” he says, his voice light with amusement. “Trying to hide the reason for your orgasm. When you think back about this moment, you’ll remember getting pleasure from this femur, not my fingers.”

His hateful words fill my ears, making them ring with shame. The pleasure intensifies, threatening to push me over the edge, but I refuse to give in to something so depraved.

“You could end this at any time by breaking through the zip ties, yet you won’t,” he says.

“I can’t.”

His hateful laugh makes me shiver. “Lie to yourself, little ghost, but you can’t lie to me. We ran through this exercise twice.”

I want to push my elbows apart, but I’m so close to orgasming that my body won’t cooperate. My mind is teetering on the brink of madness, fueled by a cocktail of ecstasy, denial, and shame.

My hips move without my permission in counterpoint to the bone, increasing the friction. Maybe I can allow myself a quiet orgasm, just so I can get my mind straight.

“Dirty little ghost. So eager to fuck that she’ll rut against a dry old femur.”

Heat surges through my veins, but I ignore his taunts. I want to snap the bone in half and stick it through his heart.

Pleasure builds and builds until it’s a roaring, raging storm in my core. A moan tears from my throat, and my hips buck violently, chasing every degrading sensation. An orgasm rips through me like a tsunami, tearing apart the woman I once was and replacing her with someone I barely recognize.

I gasp, my body convulsing with alternating waves of humiliation and rapture so intense that they border on pain.

“Filthy little girl,” Xero says, his voice mocking. “Did the sight of all those bones turn you on?”

I shake my head, wanting to deny his cruel accusation, but another burst of pleasure steals my breath. My traitorous hips grind against the bone, drawing out the last dregs of sensation until I’m a shuddering heap of satisfaction and shame.

“How was it?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement.

“Better than your puny cock,” I snap back.

He rolls me onto my side and glares down into my eyes like he’s about to reap my soul. Light shines through his darkened hair, making him look otherworldly.

My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of fear, confusion, and a growing sense of shame.

“Did you think I’d allow anything in your pussy that didn’t belong to me?” he snarls.

“What are you talking about?” I whisper, my eyes widening.

“That over there is a 3D print.” He nods toward the skeleton hanging in the corner.

My jaw drops, a wave of conflicting emotions crashing over my senses—relief, disgust, and a twisted sense of disappointment. “It’s plastic?”

He smirks. “Ceramic. Disappointed?”

Humiliation spreads across my cheeks, and my jaw clicks shut. I can’t believe he tricked me into enjoying something so depraved.

“One day,” I say, my voice trembling with rage. “I’ll have you begging for mercy, pleading for your life. Then, I’ll remind you of this moment and kill you.”

I shiver, even as I say these hateful words. Part of me wants to see him humbled, yet another part of me is horrified at my own thoughts.

What the hell is Xero doing? This asshole is warping my personality into something I don’t recognize.

He chuckles. “I’d like to see you try.”

“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” I reply through clenched teeth.

“No, but I’m dying to meet her,” he says, his lips lifting into a smirk.