by Lucian Bane
“Talk to me,” he whispered back, eager to keep secrets with her. “Can I sit closer to you?”
Sudden fear flashed across her face before she nodded barely and X moved so that he could reach her lips with his. Should he want to. When he wanted to. She was begging to be tasted.
“The thing is…” she began, still in a hushed tone. “I think Reginald is just a personality that… is really Bones. He just doesn’t realize it.”
“That’s actually very logical.” She eyed him and he wondered why. Was she figuring out that he was just another Reginald? If she was, she didn’t say or indicate that. And he wouldn’t help her work out the details. She’d have to do that. Unless suggestions would further his agenda. “Did you tell him this?”
She nodded with raised brows. “And guess what?”
When he realized she wanted his answer to the rhetorical question, he gave it with a smile. “What?”
“He thinks I’m crazy,” she whispered her slim brows coming together.
“Ironic.”
She widened her eyes and rolled them down to her lap, muttering, “Isn’t that the truth?”
“And… he blames you somehow for this?”
“He blames himself and me,” she said, suddenly making her way to sitting. Once she was situated, those pure green eyes held him immobile. He allowed himself to feel the desire it caused inside him. “Maybe I should tell you from the beginning,” she said.
An info dump? He couldn’t believe his fortune. “I’d love to hear every detail.”
“Well,” she began, “We met online.” The handcuff clanked again and it hit him she was a hand talker.
“Would you like me to free you?”
“Oh God, yes,” like she just realized he could. X looked around for the key. “I think it’s in your pocket,” she said.
He touched his front right pocket and pulled it out, showing her she was right. He slid the key in the lock, then turned, unlatching it. Carefully, he removed the cuff as he sat next to her again, holding on to her arm. The red marks on her wrist begged his attention and with a single finger he barely traced them. She was delicate and soft. He lifted it to mouth and caressed the puckered skin with a slide of his lips. He did it again, feeling her eyes on what he did.
“That’s… a neat band-aid.”
Her breathless words caused that fire to burn harder. It wasn’t just the words it was the broken things behind them. He closed his eyes, exploring her skin with his lips. That tell all was seconds away from being lost if he didn’t stop. He set her hand down in her lap, wanting her to feel safe. “He shouldn’t have cuffed you.”
A few seconds passed when she finally said, “He’s… confused. And he’s a really good brother. Better than good, he’s… he’s loyal and faithful. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Reginald.”
X wasn’t sure what he was doing to make her feel the need to convince him. “He’s always felt that way about Reginald. Tell me what happened.”
She again moved to sit up taller, showing him the full outline of her breast pushing against the tight thermal white top. Did she have a bra on? “Well, I was going to leave like I said and he didn’t let me. He said I belong to Reginald and whether Reginald was here or not, I had to stay till he got back. He thinks he’s coming back, he’s acting like he’s just going to show up.” She suddenly peered at him with narrowed gaze. “So you… can you talk to Bones? At all? I’ve been wondering that about you.”
She’d thought about him. He knew she would and wanted to ask what l she’d thought about. He leaned over her, placing his hand on the bed. “No, not really." He considered how to explain it. "Reginald shares Bones' body when he's awake. I share his body when he sleeps. I guess you can say our communication is limited to the residual impressions I leave in his mind."
“Wow,” she whispered. "I think I saw a movie like that. Only they talked by leaving notes for each other."
X smiled, finding that cute. "That's a great idea." If he wanted Bones aware of his existence, little love notes would be perfect. 'Hey Bonesy, it's me, X. Your naughty other half. Or third. But Bonesy wasn't allowed to share in X's side of the death business. So, no warm death notes for him. Not yet.
She stared at him with that innocent fascination while he wondered if she knew how beautiful she was. He guessed not. The layer of shame enshrouding her was a mile thick. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.
He met the worry in her gaze and suddenly found himself speechless. The hunger to learn all about her in that wordless language sucked him closer. He paused when the hot blast of her breath lit a fuse leading to unstoppable things hiding in the dark. He gradually eased back, needing that information she promised first. “Tell me your story, Pretty Winter.”
She sat there, shaking and panting from their brush with catastrophe. “I-I need the bathroom,” she whispered.
The timid request dropped like a lifeline and X took it, wrapping it several times around his hand as he stood to allow her room. At seeing her wincing and struggling, he helped her to the edge of the bed while more questions piled up at the door of his mind. He'd never learned how she got injured, and the need to know jumped to the top of his list.
“Thank you, I feel like an invalid. Not used to being... uh...”
Her words trailed off as she made her way to standing with those little strained grunts, every one of them licking across the tip of his cock. He wagered she’d make those exact sounds when he entered her for the first time, her burning silk sucking him in, one micro-inch at a time.
Then he'd have to give the insanity in his body the right to speak. He was more than curious to learn what it was dying to tell her.
THE NEXT CHAPTER
Winter returned and X couldn’t help feel amused again with her appearance.
She paused just past the doorway. “What?”
He took in her guarded expression, not wanting to make her more self-conscious. “It’s just… Are those Bones’ clothes?” The look that settled on her face said he’d done exactly what he didn’t want. “You look—“
“Stupid, I’m aware,” she muttered, walking to the dresser and opening and closing drawers while grumbling about how mean and stingy he was with his things, not wanting her to touch Reginald’s stuff.
She yanked clothes out of the drawer and X went over. “Let me.” She paused and he began going through the selections, looking for something gender neutral.
“He said he bought me clothes but never gave them to me.”
X paused, wondering where he’d have put them. He should have given her proper clothes already. “I’ll find this odd stash.” X left out of the room and paused in the hall remembering about Reginald not being there. That meant Bones had been forced to shop. Probably explained his foul mood. X considered where he’d put things then headed to the laundry room. That’s where Reginald would most likely put them and Bones would probably imitate him. Opening the door, he found the jackpot of psychological trauma still neatly on the floor in department store bags.
He dug through the first bag and found clothing. He held up a pair of black sweat pants and an attached matching top, confused. The size was three times bigger than her. Was he blind, stupid, or being obnoxious? Probably all three with Bones. He needed to get at why he hated her so much, he wasn’t entirely seeing the justification yet. His eye paused over a box and he turned it toward him. “Ohhhh Bones, you pliable son-of-a-bitch,” he muttered. He’d gotten him the speakers he’d wanted. X usually had to spend weeks wanting something before the urge would reach Bones who in turn had to buy it, thanks to whatever condition his brilliant mind suffered with. X had used that method to obtain everything required for his night life proclivities. It wasn’t quick but it kept him safe from getting discovered. Only this time it was rather quick. He’d put in his request after he met Winter. Just to explore things with her as he put together clues.
“What are you doing?” X turned and Winter stood with a curious expression mi
xed with eagerness. “It hit me that I don’t have to worry about Bones hearing me. Or seeing me.”
“That’s right,” he said, confirming.
“Good.”
X angled his head at hearing a near terror at the back of her tone. “Did he hurt you?”
She snapped her eyes to his. “I mean… how… how do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” he said, despising word games.
“Well… Bones isn’t… he’s not well.” X listened and watched in astonishment as she defended him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Part of him detested any form of perverted judgement while another part of him appreciated her discernment. But, not if it stemmed from victimization. “What?” she asked, looking worried.
X decided to drop it, showing her the box. “Do you see this?”
“What are those? Speakers?”
“Bones bought them today. And these.”
He handed her the clothes and she held up the pants with a gawk. “That bastard,” she muttered. “He just loves rubbing my weight in my face. This would fit a goddamn cow. Are there any… underclothes?”
Underclothes? Judging by her hesitation he guessed that meant intimate apparel. “Not that I found.”
She gave another snort. “Am I supposed to go without that? He’s made it damn clear he doesn’t want me touching their stuff anymore.”
“Did he?” X muttered.
“Oh yes,” she nodded a lot as she wadded the clothes into a ball. “He doesn’t even want me in the air he breathes. And get this. He hired a maid named Sasha.” She was back to nodding again, anger making her pretty green eyes sparkle. “What am I? He thinks just because I was a whore that I have no normal abilities? I can clean better than anybody, I have news for him.”
“Of course you can,” he said. “How about you change out of his things and meet me in the office.”
She quickly sobered and lowered her gaze. “We, uh, getting started?”
Getting started. Wonder what that meant to her. “Yes.”
She nodded and turned to go then stopped. “You need help carrying anything?”
“I can manage,” he said.
“Okay then I’ll… go change into… these monstrosities.”
She hurried ahead of him and X made his way to the office with the speakers. It hit him that maybe since Reginald was gone, X had more influence on Bones. That idea damn near intoxicated him. But if he wasn’t careful, he’d influence Bones too much in the wrong way, giving him too much of the wrong information.
After getting the speakers hooked up, he found a music app and downloaded it. He wondered what she liked as he clicked a playlist with top songs from the 70,’s 80’s and 90’s.
“Sorry, I couldn’t wear that,” she said behind him. “I looked like a ninja whale in it.”
X turned and found her in a robe, his body responding almost violently with desire. So, she assumed getting started included sex. Good. He didn’t really want to have to force that but he would. Fucking her was non-negotiable. “Take it off.” He turned to finalize the playlist then clicked play. The first song came on and he faced her, finding she’d not disrobed.
“I just need to get something clear before we begin,” she said, holding up a hand. The gesture was assertive but her tone implored.
“What’s that?” he asked, leaning back in the chair, clasping his hands behind his head.
“Whatever I do with you… is… like a job to me.”
He stared at her, giving in to the smile. “Okay,” he said easily.
“And you get to ask me a question and I get to ask one?”
“Well… technically, you owe me an answer to a question. I gave you a clue last time.”
She slowly cocked her jaw right in obvious calculation. It made him grin. She didn’t hide
things. He liked that. “About that clue. It was pretty sucky if you think about it.”
“It was a clue. Clues aren’t answers, they’re pieces of answers.”
“Lord,” she realized. “This could take a long time.”
“It could. You have to ask clever questions.”
“But I didn’t ask a question for that clue.”
He spread both arms out. “I was generous.” He lowered his gaze, his desire heating up in his blood. “The robe.”
She reached for the tie. “Can I… have an idea of what we’ll do?”
He raised only his eyes. “No.”
She seemed to fight worry as she licked her lips and nodded. “A job,” she muttered, more to herself.
“Just a job,” he confirmed, watching the slow tug of the robe tie. She opened it and slid it over her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Heat hammered his blood as he angled his head, taking her every delicious curve in. “You’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
He watched her full breasts rise and fall beneath hard nipples. “No need to flatter.”
He pierced her with his gaze. “I don’t lie. Don’t ever imply it again, Pretty Winter,” he added, soothing the bite of his scold.
She suddenly became the perfect image of submission, her gaze lowered. “H-how do you want me to answer you?”
Answer him? She thought he was one of those. But he’d not taken a woman in that way while working. That could impress the wrong thing on Bones and end disastrous. But Pretty Winter... she was already the explosion of his every neuron, the heat in his cock, blood, and bones. “You’ll call me X when it feels really good. And when it feels scary... and wrong... you’ll call me Executioner.”
He eyed her reaction, making careful notes as he plotted his course with her. She would make the ultimate submissive, giving all for Bones. How far would she go for him?
“Executioner,” she half asked, casting a furtive glance at him. “Is… there a safe word?”
He got up and came to stand just before her, his eyes locked on her lowered face. “Do you need a safe word?” Her nipples just below drew his attention. He captured her right breast in one hand and squeezed slowly until the tip pushed out, tight and hard.
“Do I?” she gasped, winded.
“I think you do.” She'd said 'this is just a job'. But Pretty Winter was dead wrong. What he was going to do, how he’d do it, when, where, why—those were X factors. And she’d not calculated them.
He reached with his thumb and stroked the very tip of her nipple, recording her responses. She was fighting. He wondered why she would and if she really thought she could? She needed to know that when she was with him, he owned her body. He owned its every untouched, unexplored, lascivious desire. How long would it take before she was begging? He needed those answers more than any of the others he’d planned to get.
She held her eyes shut tight with her pretty slim brows drawn together in her war against his touch. X scraped his nail softly over her nipple and her strained breaths came faster. “How does it feel Pretty Winter?” he whispered. “Right here.” He flicked faster. “On your hard nipple?”
He squeezed her mound in answer to the fever boiling his blood. The need to do profane things with her growled in his chest as he opened his mouth in unison with hers, tasting the volatile sex brewing in the air. She continued to challenge him, straining back moans that would beg him for more.
“Is your pussy wet, Pretty Winter?”
Even though she burned up before him, she still fought. “Yes.” The confession wrenched from her before she called him by the name, “X.”
His jaw and fingers tightened at the fiery way it came. “You’re fighting it,” he whispered, flicking faster. “I think you need to learn to give me what I want, when I want it. Close your legs tight and touch your clit, like I’m doing here.” He slowly circled the base of her nipple. “Tell me when you’re obeying me.” He angled his head, watching her hand lower between her legs.
“I’m—doing it,” she strained.
“Such a good girl, Pretty Winter.” He petted the very tip of her nipple then lowered, sucking it into his
mouth. He rolled his tongue around it and groaned, scraping the sides of the erect peak with his teeth while tonguing the tip. He lifted his head, putting himself right at her erratic gasps. “Slide your finger inside your hot silk.” Their breaths clashed and he grunted at the sounds her finger made. “Your pussy is creamy. I can hear it,” he shuddered. “You’ve gotten my cock impossibly hard, naughty Winter. Taste your pussy.” The order shook with his need to break all over her. She did what he commanded. “That’s it, lick all of it.” He reached between her legs and slid his finger along her slippery slit. “I hear it in your moans. You want what’s coming even if you don’t know what that is.” He pushed his finger inside her. He’d meant to just wet it but her succulent silk devoured his mind and illicit demands gripped his body. He shoved in hard and deep, grunting as he added another finger. He remained at her mouth, his breaths ragged and greedy as he gorged himself on her every shocked moan.
When she called his name again, another door in that hidden dungeon blew off. She clutched his forearm with one hand and his shoulder with the other. But when she dug her nails into his muscle? That was it. She’d undone his final restraint.
Hunger blasted in, more ravenous and greedy, making him hammer fuck her with his fingers, every drive lifting her off the floor as he fought to mark the deepest part of her.
“X!”
“Don’t come!” he growled, clenching his eyes and grunting on the throbbing agony in his cock. He suddenly slowed his pace, the muscles in his arm lit with the fire that torched the rest of him.
Winded, he withdrew his fingers and slowly slid them over her parted mouth. Smelling her there, a second wave of insanity hit and he clutched her jaw in a biting hold, devouring her smeared juices at a crazed pace. He grabbed a handful of her hair and clenched hard, tongue-fucking her mouth as he pushed her in reverse. She hit the wall with a thud and their breaths blasted as he plowed his mouth over her jaw and neck, sucking, biting. Filling his hands with her breasts, he devoured her nipples next, growls and groans pouring from him as he fed on her like an animal, fed until he was down before her, on his knees.