by K. M. Raya
She could feel his cock on her back, and she was astonished to feel that he was still as hard as granite. Reaching down, Jasper peeled down her leggings, discarding them somewhere on the floor. She couldn’t help but buck backwards into him. Her pussy rubbed along his still wet cock, slipping along the soft flesh easily. Every stroke rubbed against her clit, sending zings of sharp pleasure through her limbs. Jasper ran a palm reverently down the length of her spine. “I’m going to fuck you now, baby, and you’re going to stay real still for me, okay?”
All she could do was nod. He lifted her ass with his palm, while his other hand fisted his cock. It took zero effort for him to guide it up and under, lining her up perfectly. Gripping her hips again, he pulled back. She was dripping wet, so he slipped in easily, stretching her almost to the point of pain. He went slowly, guiding himself in until she felt the tip of his dick hit that spot deep inside of her that many men have struggled to find.
“Shit, Blue, you feel like fucking heaven,” Jasper groaned as he began to move a little faster. “You like that?” he asked. All she could do was moan, unable to form words. He sped up even more, fucking her hard enough that she rocked against the couch, bracing herself with her hands on either side of the cushions.
“Oh god!” she cried out, feeling an orgasm building low in her belly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she was running out of breath, she was about to fall over the edge. “I’m—”
Lights exploded in her brain as a pair of thick fingers pressed in on her swollen clit. The most intense orgasm she ever experienced crashed over her in wave after wave of bliss. She screamed into the couch cushion, riding his dick into oblivion, rolling her hips backwards as heat seared her skin. As she began to crash back down to earth, she was able to catch her breath.
Jasper pulled out, and she whimpered. Blue stood there for a few long moments, trying to blink her eyesight back into normal range after seeing stars. Suddenly, she was whirled around. Jasper caught her in his arms, bringing his lips close to hers as his arms tightened around her body. His eyes were molten, but in their depths, she could see everything.
Jasper smiled softly. “If you ever doubt the way I feel about you, baby girl, I have absolutely no problem reminding you again and again. And you can quote me on that.”
Chapter Twenty
Blue made her way through the trees after parking her car along the perimeter of the Slayer neighborhood. She followed a cobblestone road that wound through the forest that surrounded the school in the opposite direction of her favorite graveyard. Her feet carried her forward, even though her brain was screaming at her to turn right back around and pretend she never thought of this hairbrained idea.
Tall black lamp posts lined the winding road, lighting up the dark forest with glowing golden light that made her feel warm, despite the chill in the air. She knew this path by heart but hadn’t traversed it in years. The moon was high in the clear sky, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight, so she had no fear of a vampire attack. Still, she was armed with her silver stakes and her silver whip that had just come in the evening before. She’d opened the little box it was delivered in, and had to contain a girlish squeal of excitement. They were perfect. The silver gleamed and the handles were made of red leather that fit her fingers perfectly. It was coiled now at her hip beneath her long black duster jacket. She made the decision to never leave the academy anything less than completely strapped. Her luck was just that bad.
She walked for ten minutes before the trees began to thin. The road split into forks that circled up into long driveways in front of massive familiar estates. The neighborhood was nestled in the trees, hidden behind a set of wrought iron gates that didn’t actually close. The gates were simply for looks as the road went straight through an opening with two massive stone gargoyles perched on either side.
Each home she passed looked like something out of a gothic romance novel. The houses resembled miniature castle-like mansions, complete with turrets, roundabouts, fountains and gigantic silver door knockers, each carved into the sigil of the family the home belonged to. She passed Jewel’s home—the one her family passed down for over five generations. Her heart squeezed, knowing that she would never be welcome there again. She’d spent practically every day at that house, running through its ancient halls with JJ, playing hide and seek, or pretending to slay vampires in the night. That place was practically a second home, so much so that Jewel’s mother had decorated one of the guest rooms to Blue's taste and even let her keep some of her things there.
She forced herself to keep going, slipping through the dark street and dodging street lamps so that nobody would spot her. She decided to wear her hood and mask, just in case anyone happened to be passing by or looking out a window. Unfortunately, Blue’s strange looks would be recognizable no matter where she went, and she couldn’t afford for the Conclave to come up with any more questions.
Blue gritted her teeth as she passed a particularly large house at the corner of the first street. It was larger than all the others, with steepled roofs and a massive carriage house to the side of it. A dozen stone gargoyles stood sentry on the edges of the stone wall that surrounded the estate, watching her like they knew she had no business being there. The Conclave convened in that building. It served as a sort of city hall, where the council that ruled the local Slayer community lived and worked. She’d been inside more times than she could count. As a child, her mother often had business there and would take her along when it wasn’t too important or serious.
The lights were all on behind the windows, and she could see shapes moving about. She hovered just outside the perimeter but darted passed the cameras she knew were set up along the entrance. Technically, she wasn't breaking any rules by venturing into her old neighborhood. But still, she didn’t think they’d welcome her back with open arms. There would definitely be a few raised eyebrows.
Continuing further down the street, there was a fluttering in her stomach as a familiar structure came to view. The house was massive, painted a deep purple hued black that had bleached in the sun over the years and was now overgrown with spindling, creeping ivy. The front gate hung open, squeaking in the wind. Fog undulated over the ground, raising goosebumps on her pale skin. She slipped passed the open gate, careful not to make a sound. There was an old dried up fountain that sat in the center of a cobblestone roundabout driveway, with a steep staircase that led to the front entrance of the familiar house.
There were fourteen bedrooms on the property—three stories filled with decadence and family history. Above the front double doors sat the Graves family crest—a black raven with a bloody rose clutched in its beak while its sharp talons perched atop a skull with vampire incisors. Her heartbeat picked up as she neared the doors. Memories rushed through her, almost strong enough to cause her physical pain. The door pushed open without a struggle, and a cloud of dust rained down on her head. Holding her breath, she stepped over the threshold of her childhood home for the first time in ten years.
The foyer looked the same as it always had. High ceilings rose in a cylindrical column that spanned three stories above her head. A spiraling staircase swirled on the outer edges of the wall, stopping on every floor where a platform met the last step. Cobwebs hung in every corner and stretched across doorways and bannisters. Dust coated the walls and the old drop cloths that had been laid out over the statues her mother used to collect. She could see their shapes beneath the once white cloths and remembered each and every one of them as if she’d been there only yesterday.
Aside from the darkness and the dust, the old house even sounded hollow. It felt hollow. The once bustling estate that used to be her haven was now an empty shell, devoid of life. It might as well have been a graveyard. She remembered the days where she’d skip through that very foyer, laughing and screaming while JJ chased her around. She remembered the dinner parties her parents would host, and when the whole house had been filled with the chatter of their guests, and music that used to drift in from the oth
er room.
Blue wandered out of the foyer, taking the first doorway to her right that led into a sitting parlor. Her mother’s old chaise lounge still sat in the same place she used to listen to bedtime stories at night. She remembered sitting tucked up in her mother’s arms, wrapped in a cozy woolen blanket as she listened to her soft voice telling her stories while her father had a cigar in the wingback chair.
The walls were lined with old bookshelves, their covers were coated in a grey layer of dust. She knew most of them were children’s fairy tales, but some of them her mother had written herself when she worked for the Conclave. Running her fingers over every surface she passed, her fingertips grew cold and aching. The more she interacted with her home, the more her energy seemed to wane and leech out into the abyss, as if the very estate were sucking something from her. Her heart hurt. It physically cramped in her chest, making Blue want to buckle her knees. But she kept on going, despite the pain.
Holding her breath, Blue crossed the threshold of the one room in the estate she dreaded the very most. Marble flooring spread out across the massive room. The ballroom. Her mother had it built after her grandfather had passed away. Being one of the most prominent and founding families in the Slayer community, her mother and father were social butterflies who loved to throw a good party. The ceilings were high and old—cracked chandeliers hung from them, covered in thick cobwebs and shadows. Bats were nesting in the empty torches. The curtains that housed the floor to ceiling windows were now torn to shreds with entire sections discarded on the floor.
She remembered the last time she stepped foot in the ballroom. It was the night when everything changed. She remembered the laughter and music that filled the room. A violin piece was playing, and she’d been dancing with Jewel under the twinkling lights of the once beautiful chandelier. All around her was a celebration. The Trials had concluded at Arcane, and her parents had thrown a banquet to honor the newest Guardians. Only upperclassmen and graduates were allowed to attend the banquet, but JJ and Blue had been allowed only for a few hours that night.
She remembered being upset that evening, finding out that just before the festivities was about to begin, her parents’ Slayer team had been called away for a not so routine sweep of a nearby hospital. There had been a vampire sighting in the area, and they were the only first responders ready to tackle the situation. Only half of their team had gone out that night. Her mother told Blue to have some fun while they were gone.
She danced and she danced, laughing and giggling, sneaking sips of champagne when the waiters were not looking. Her hair had been in braids that night, and her plum colored dress made her feel like royalty, but she remembered searching for her mother’s beautiful face through the crowd as the clock struck twelve. They’d taken too long to come back, and she remembered the uneasiness she’d felt as every hour passed. JJ tried to brush it off as nothing. She tried to distract her with finger foods and games, but Blue could never forget how it felt when she’d been ushered off to bed without a goodnight from either of her parents.
Snapping back to the present, Blue stared down at the ten-year-old dried bloodstains that still littered the ballroom floor… She felt ill. She felt like she might faint if she looked at it for too long, remembering the cold, dead faces of the people she used to know. She’d been the one to find them all that night, after everyone else had fled. She’d descended the staircase, listening for the sounds of screaming, only to discover a massacre waiting for her through the double doors.
Blue turned away from the sight of the aging decay. She made her way up the stairs in the front foyer, practically holding her breath the entire way up. A memory struck her then, of a little blonde boy in a tuxedo and a book in his hands as she passed the first landing. She shook the memory away and kept going. She couldn’t explain what was compelling her to keep moving forward, but she did regardless of any lingering doubt. on the third floor was her bedroom. The oak door was still shut, and she had to blink away the last memory of it.
Blue’s hand shook as she grasped the brass knob, twisting gently before giving the heavy door a push. She coughed as dust filled her nose. The door swung open, revealing a room bathed in white moonlight. She could see each mote of dust as they floated around her head, but she refused to breath in deeply. Her eyes honed in on her little bed in the corner. Her breath stuttered in her chest, and it took a moment for her to remember how to move forward.
She approached the bed, staring down at the once white lace comforter in both awe and terror. It all flashed before her eyes at once—the blood, the screams… the dust. With a choked sob, Blue turned to flee the bedroom, but smacked right into a solid chest. She shrieked, backing up so swiftly that she almost fell onto that monstrous bedding. Strong arms caught her before she fell.
“Calm down, it’s just me!” Dresden urged, holding his hands up in front of his body. “Blue, it’s me,” he repeated.
Holding a hand over her racing heart, she yanked her hood off her head and tried to take deep breaths. “What the fuck!”
He stepped closer, but Blue danced out of his reach. “Don’t touch me,” she spit. His eyes flashed with hurt before he looked away. Dresden was still trying to calm her down, but she didn’t know why the hell he was in her house.
He was dressed in all black, with his hood once again pulled up over his long blonde hair that fell over his shoulders. He wore tactical pants tucked into thick black boots, and his weapons were strapped to his back and hips. Dresden looked like he was in the middle of a hunt.
“C’mon, let's get out of here,” he whispered, glancing around the morbid remnants of her childhood.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped, but she did scurry past him, out the door of her bedroom before zipping down the stairs. She might have been trying to outrun him, but she could hear his footsteps behind her.
“Blue, wait!” he called after her when she burst through her front door. She was ready to make a run for it, but noticed belatedly that the sky was beginning to fill with cloud cover. Soon the rains would start and she’d be vulnerable once again.
Whipping around, she leveled him with a glare, causing him to pull up short when he stopped in front of her. “Why were you following me?”
Dresden smirked, infuriating her even more than before. “Who says I was following you?”
“Cut the shit, Dres. I know you were stalking me. What I want to know is why. Why the hell do you even waste your time on me if you clearly hate me?” He just blinked at her. “And no more of that cryptic bullshit everyone here seems to love so much, just tell me why you’re creeping around my old house.”
“Why did you go back in there?” he asked. His voice was tight. “Are you trying to make everything harder than it needs to be? Are you some sort of fucking masochist?” She opened her mouth to argue, but he kept going. “I can’t think of a single good reason for you to come back to that—to that slaughterhouse. That place has nothing for you, Blue.”
“Why is that your problem?” She tossed her hands in the air. “Nobody asked you to come with me. Maybe I felt like finally facing it. Maybe I felt like I needed to…” She paused, looking around as if searching for the words. “I needed to see it for myself.”
In reality, she didn’t have a good excuse for being there. Something had compelled her to get in that car and drive until she found herself at those familiar gates. By now, she was beginning to wonder if Dresden was right. Maybe she was a fucking masochist. She knew what kind of pain returning would cause her, but she did it anyway… and did it make a difference? No. She still felt just as shitty as she always did. She might even feel a little worse than before.
She was quiet for a minute, while Dresden just stood there watching her. She could feel his eyes tracing her face in contemplation, but for the life of her she couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. She looked up, letting vulnerability shine in her eyes for the first time in a long time. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. The wind howled around t
hem and her hair lifted from her shoulders, whipping across her face. She pulled her jacket tighter against the chill.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice a little softer than before.
Blue sighed wearily. “I’m sorry all those people had to die under my roof… I’m sorry your uncle Henry was killed and I’m sorry it was my family’s fault…” she looked to her feet, not wanting to meet his haunted eyes. “I’ll have to live with that night for the rest of my life, Dresden, but I don’t want to forget.”
He stepped forward. ‘Why not?”
She racked her brain for the right way to explain it. Any which way she thought the words, she knew they’d come out wrong. “I can’t forget their faces. I don’t even want to. That night, everyone was so happy. We danced, we sang and laughed… I remember everyone who was there in our ballroom like it was yesterday. I remember Henry dancing with JJ, I remember my mom kissing my cheek before she and dad ran out the front door with half their team…” she paused, taking a long, steadying breath. “I remember you,” she whispered, looking up at Dresden through her lashes.
He sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders going rigid. “I thought—” he started, but she shook her head.
“When I was in the house just now, your face flashed through my memory. Or, at least I think it was you. I remember you sitting on the staircase in the foyer. You were reading some sort of book, but I never stopped to check. You were so little back then and you didn’t even look like you, but I remember.”
He looked confused, and a little angry as his jaw tightened and his hands curled at his sides, but he didn’t look as mean as he usually did. His eyes were almost sad. “I remember it too, you know,” he admitted, surprising her. He took a step closer until they were within touching distance. They were close enough now that she could see small flecks of green and amber in his dark eyes, and the barely there freckles across his nose.