Desecrating Solomon II

by Lucian Bane

  “I love the sound of you begging me to suck your pussy.”

  Her pussy. That word, the way he said it. It made the fire hotter.

  “I’m going to suck it until you come, Beautiful. Are you ready?” he asked, his mouth kissing softly on it.

  “Suck my pussy, suck it Solomon.”

  He gave a hungry sound as he opened wide and sucked her pussy, just like he did at her mouth. His tongue slid all over her clit then his mouth pressed in hard and sucked the entire hot area. More hungry sounds vibrated on her as he moved his lips, fighting to get them even more inside hers for another milking pull of her privates.

  “I’m… Solomon please.”

  “You’re going to come on my mouth, Beautiful,” he said, right on her.

  His hand left her stomach and slid deep inside her just as he dove back on her throbbing clit. He sucked so perfectly hard, it set off that electrical execution in her. That storm of fiery pleasure, the one that gripped her hard and trapped her in a prison she never wanted to escape.

  Even as she fought to stay in the arms of the assault, he was lifting her. Carrying her. Laying her on something soft. Then he was inside her, his fingers exploring deeply, his tongue, lips and harsh breaths filling her mouth. She gulped him down, devoured him while giving what he seemed to be demanding. Everything, all of her. To destroy and break and possess.

  She gave it.

  Yes, take it all. Take all of it, all of me. Hide me from myself until I can’t think, or know anything but you.

  Prepare my body with your love. Desecrate my soul with your passion.

  Annihilate me.

  He rolled her onto him, still kissing her. His strong hands traced the curves of her body and stopped at her hips with a fierce grip. “Make love to me, Beautiful,” he said harshly, moving her body so that his erection slid inside her.

  She could only close her eyes and feel him, endless moans of that beautiful agony flowing from her lips.

  She lifted her upper body so that she sat atop him with his throbbing cock filling her. His strong hands still held her hips tight, barely moving her on him, moving himself in her so that he hit the very bottom of her soul.

  She couldn’t speak or think, she could only reach. Reach for what he promised if she opened that door for him.

  She wanted to open it. She would open it. Her fingers dug into the hard muscle on his chest as she answered him. Spoke back to the need in his fingers, the need that rumbled in his chest, in every hot breath straining out of him. She moved her hips and gripped him back, glorying in his God yes praise.

  It was her turn to want more, and she was ready to demand back.

  She moved perfectly on him, slowly, entirely, then deeply. She moved in circles, forcing the tip of his delicious cock to lick all her deepest parts. She wanted him there, always and forever. She wanted it so badly, it made her hungrier, more desperate. Her nails dug harder as she moved faster.

  The sounds he gave said he craved exactly that. More, he wanted even more, just like her. He suddenly pulled her body onto his then rolled with her. On her back, he knelt between her legs and wrapped her hips in his strong hands. He lifted her up and shoved himself into her, looking at her face as he did, as though wanting her to know that this is what he demanded and he needed to see what that did to her, how she felt about it.

  She gave him the truth. She gave him a sharp cry of surrender, clutching the bed covers while staring into his eyes. Could he see what she was needing? Begging for? As hard as you can. As deep as you can. As fast as you can. Without stopping. Without ever stopping.

  His gaze burned slowly lower, stopping on her breasts. He jerked her onto his cock and she gripped the covers harder, her mouth flying open in ecstasy as his eyes moved from her breasts to her face, hungry to see both at once.

  He jerked her again, and again, one after another, watching her breasts as they jolted. The look on his face was different from any she’d ever seen on him. The raw power in his gaze, the hard set of his jaw.

  He slowed his strokes and locked his eyes on hers. She couldn’t turn away from the look in those dark green depths. Such a boiling desire. It stole her breath and held her riveted in a throbbing need to have it. Have what was coming. That ferocious promise in the parting of his lips, the slow lick of his tongue.

  “Touch your clit.” The whisper rode on his thick groans as he looked down at himself inside her, watched as he moved her on and off of him.

  Chaos obediently touched the throbbing bud.

  “Stroke it softly,” he said, rolling his gaze back up to her breasts. “And your nipples. Touch them. Make it burn, Beautiful.” That harsh gaze made it to hers. “Don’t stop until you fucking come on me,” he gasped, his fingers gripping her hips hard again.

  At feeling him getting ready, she obeyed him, rubbing her nipples until she created a circuit of fire to her clit.

  He continued with slow strokes, his gaze moving to her fingers on her breasts, then between her legs, and back to her face.

  The heat grew stronger as she rubbed circles over the hot bud the way he’d done. She wiggled her hips for more and his hands gripped tighter, holding her where he wanted. Exactly where he wanted as his cock began to finally move faster.

  His thrusts started slowly but they were absolute and breathtaking. “Solomon! Solomon!” She thrashed her head, arching and flicking her hips for more of him.

  A harsh groan escaped him and he jerked her onto him, making her cry out.

  “Yes! Please yes!”

  He ended her torment finally. He began to pull her onto him, not off, his pace furious and only deep. She fought to do as he said, don’t stop till she came on him. The explosion that happened in her was different from any of the others. It made her scream as it plowed through her and pinned her to its iron will.

  Soaring, flying. Lost and floating. That’s what she was, not knowing anything but that. And then his mouth was on hers, kissing, breaths hot and dizzying. “Beautiful,” he kept saying over and over on her lips. “My beautiful wife.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Solomon didn’t want to take Chaos with him to talk to his father, but leaving her seemed like a bad idea. After sharing the most mind blowing orgasm in the universe, he was sure she was acting less connected with him than ever.

  It boggled his mind, but he couldn’t address it with his dad and uncle waiting for him to finish his little honeymoon. He’d hardly begun. He wanted to do so many things with Chaos. So many, many things.

  He dreaded more than ever going in there. He’d have to watch how he reacted in front of Chaos. While she was very receptive to his mood swings, she was way wrong on what they meant.

  He pulled her into his arms before walking out the door. “Do you know how much I love you?” he asked against her lips.

  She gave a jerky tiny nod that amounted to yes, I hear you, but no, I don’t get it.

  “I need to talk to you about Chantilly. We’re going in there to talk about that, and I don’t want you to think that anything being said has anything to do with how I feel about you, please,” he begged. “Look at me. In my eyes.”

  She forced her gaze to his.

  “Tell me you know. I need to know that you know. I mean really know.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  God, she was lying.

  “We’ll talk more later about it, okay?” He held her face between his hands and remained at her mouth for lingering kisses.

  She played the kissing game with him but he could feel her holding back. He wanted to scream.

  His uncle opened the door for them and looked around outside before quickly shutting it back. His dad stood up from where he sat at a two person table in the corner. He noticed his dad looking at Chaos and wondered what he knew about her too.

  The boy was asleep in the bed. He’d put on quite the drama production when Chaos tried to leave the room without him. It took thirty minutes of comforting and promising to convince him it was okay
and that she was coming right back.

  The look on his dad and uncle’s face didn’t help the ill feeling he had. For a flash instant, part of him hoped the news wasn’t good about Chantilly. God, he was sick to even think it but he did. She’d died to him finally, he’d finally been able to bury her in his mind. He didn’t want to ever see her hurt if she were alive but if she were alive, people were going to be hurt.

  “You sure you want her here?” Uncle Joe asked quietly when he was in whisper distance.

  “Yes,” he said, not really having much other choice. “Can we hurry and… talk? Get done?”

  “Sure, son,” his uncle nodded in gentle understanding.

  “You have news about Chantilly?” he asked his dad, jumping right in.

  His dad eyed Chaos who sat on the farthest bed, facing the window. Like she knew nobody wanted her to hear. There was no way to make her feel different, and he just needed to hurry and be done so he could get back to proving he loved her.

  “Let’s sit,” his dad said, going to the small table and waiting for Solomon.

  Solomon sat.

  “Chantilly is alive.”

  Sickness slammed his stomach and Solomon fought to not react. “How do you know this?”

  “I have my sources in Weston where I’ve conducted a very thorough investigation. I would never bring this kind of news without being absolutely certain.”

  Solomon fought his body to remain calm. Which questions should he ask? “Is she okay?”

  “That… I’m not certain of.”

  Solomon nodded a little. “So where is she?” he asked, glancing over at Chaos.

  His dad eyed Chaos now then muttered quietly, “Same place she comes from. Same place…” he looked down at his hands before leveling his dark brown eyes on him. “Same place your mother came from.”

  Solomon looked at his uncle.

  “I told him what you told me,” his uncle said. “I hope that’s okay.”

  Solomon struggled for indifference on that front. He didn’t care about his uncle telling him. It was what his dad was saying that he was having a hard time with. A hard time believing. “So…” Solomon kept his narrowed gaze on the table, trying to fix his words right. “You’re telling me that… my fiancée was… what? Kidnapped and held there? All this time?”

  “I’m saying that she’s been there, yes. Not kidnapped, son.”

  “What?” The word came out before he could stop it.

  “She’s been—“

  “Don’t repeat it,” Solomon said, annoyed. “I heard you, I don’t believe that.” He looked at his uncle. “You believe that?”

  His uncle lowered his head, further angering Solomon.

  “Well that’s fucking bullshit,” Solomon said calmly and evenly. “I’ll tell you right now,” he muttered, his anger stopping short of a boil. “I don’t know who your source is, but they’re wrong. Plain and simple. You said yourself you’re not sure if she’s okay.”

  “I just meant, being from there I can’t really say—”

  “It’s bullshit!” Solomon stood pacing, staring at his dad. “It’s bullshit dad. If that is even true, then she’s obviously faking it, faking it to survive! She was a smart girl!”

  His dad looked troubled as he said, “She came from there before she met you.”

  “I don’t give a shit when she came from there. I know her.” He looked at his uncle. “I knew her, I know her. She wasn’t like that.” He laughed a little and paced some more. “She’s stuck there. How do you know she’s not stuck there?” he accused his dad. “Having to do only God knows what till somebody comes for her. How long have you known this? Did it occur to you once to consider she’s there by force and is just being smart? Or did you just automatically assume she faked the two years we had? You don’t know her!” Solomon fought to hold his voice down.

  “I thought I knew your mother too.”

  Solomon looked at his uncle then his dad, a dry laugh gushing. “We did know her. We know she was a fucking angel, what are you talking about?”

  “She changed after,” his dad said. “Chantilly still belongs to the order.”

  “Chaos,” he called, looking at his dad. “She would know. Beautiful, come here, please. She was right under the Master, she’d know.” He fought to keep his voice even as Chaos came over and stood next to him.

  “She would know,” Solomon said again. “And she saw a picture of my wife, did you not?” he asked her.

  She gave rapid nods, keeping her eyes downcast.

  “See?

  “Does she know all the women at the order, son?” his father asked carefully.

  Chaos shook her head as though he’d asked her the question.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Solomon said. “Whether she saw her or not, knew her or not, she could have been recruited.”

  “No doubt about that,” his dad said. “Or raised in it.”

  “She met me, and just like mom, she realized the truth.”

  “They killed your mother for leaving.”

  Solomon shook his head. “Maybe they had no choice, maybe they had other reasons, I don’t know. If she’s there, it’s because they’re forcing her, I can guarantee you that!”

  The look on his father’s face, that look of Solomon being in denial sent his anger through the roof. “Chantilly loved me John! I loved her, what we had can’t be faked! You can’t fake true love, it’s either real or it’s not! What we had was real and she’s been stuck in hell playing the game all this time, waiting for me to find her, for somebody to find her. And just when I give up, I come to the very place where she’s at?” He looked at his dad with wide eyes. “If I hadn’t closed that chapter, maybe I would have realized that.”

  Chaos’s breath shot out and he jerked to her. She was smiling. “What’s wrong, Beautiful?” he asked, hurrying to her. “You remember something?”

  She nodded a lot, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “I remember. I remember. Th-there was a girl at-at one time not long ago. Master was angry about… something. I didn’t realize, I didn’t realize.” She shook her head, looking so sorry and Solomon smoothed the hair along her face, shhhhing her. “I didn’t realize,” she strained. “If I had known, I-I…” Her face crimped now with her efforts not to cry. “I don’t think… I would’ve done anything,” she whispered, turning her teary eyes of torment to him. “I was only thinking about helping lift the curse, that’s what Master trained me to do. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!” she cried.

  Solomon pulled her tight to him. “Stop,” he whispered. “It’s not your fault.”

  “It’s all my fault. I let your Chantilly suffer, making myself blind to everything. And she loved you, I’m sure of it! How wouldn’t she?” she asked, confounded.

  She pushed out of his arms and turned to his dad. “She loved him, Mr. Kratch. She was wanting to get out, I’m very sure of it. Many of the girls want to, they go for treatment if they don’t repent, and she’s smart, like you said,” she reminded Solomon now, going back to him and gripping his arm. “And she played the game. She played the game because she loved you, of course she did!”

  Solomon pulled her in a tight embrace, sobbing into her hair. Why was she so fucking good? She was always so good, always so good to him. “I love you, Beautiful, I love you.”

  “It’s true I can’t be certain of that,” his father said. “You could both be right on that. I hope you are.”

  “How the hell are we supposed to find that out?” his uncle said.

  “I finally found an inside source,” his dad said. “An old woman in hiding that used to be a part of the order. She can probably tell us what we can do to get her out. If Chantilly does want out… hopefully she’ll keep being smart.”

  “I need a way into Weston. I can’t step foot over there without them knowing. If I could ever run down Jimmy Ray—

  “Jimmy the black man?” Uncle Joe asked. “I told you he rescued us.”

  “And let me guess, he vanish
ed?”

  “No, he’s staying at Ms. Mary’s according to her.”

  “Arthur’s Mary that Solomon cared for?”

  “Yes.” Joe sat at the table. “What’s up with him, that Jimmy? He’s the one that led them to us, the first damn time you know.”

  Solomon turned to listen now, curious about what he knew about Jimmy.

  “He’s an orphan from the asylum. One of the many children born to one of the insane slaves.” The emphasis on insane was a clear mock. The groundskeeper took him in and raised him in the woods till he died. Jimmy knows a lot, but for some reason he’s holding on tight. Why he’d turn you over to the order is a puzzle piece I only have a hunch on.”

  “What?” Solomon asked now.

  “He believes the curse is real. And he believes it won’t end until it’s lifted.”

  “Well, this doesn’t make me like him anymore,” Solomon said.

  “He thinks you’re the one to lift the curse,” his dad said. “But he’s hiding exactly how. The fact that he rescued you from there, of course, has me back at confused.”

  “Join the crowd,” Uncle Joe said. “He’s a walking riddle machine.”

  “He gave me a key,” Solomon remembered. “It’s in the room.”

  “He whittled it out of wood,” Uncle Joe said. “Saw it in a dream and of course he has no clue what it’s for.”

  “He also talked about the asylum graveyard. I went there and looked, but all I got were a bunch of headstones with no dates on them. I did a little research and the only thing I found was the records of the deceased didn’t hardly match the number of graves.”

  “They had their own crematorium,” his dad said.

  He knew that. “Then why did Jimmy tell me to check the graves?”

  “Wished I knew,” his dad said. “I feel like the man is sitting on all the answers.”

  “Who is the man and the woman in the picture?”

  Everybody turned to Chaos standing quietly behind them. “At the dark man’s house? He said they picked us. I was thinking that might be important.”

  “Not sure what picture she’s talking about,” his dad said.

  “A picture of people at the asylum.” Solomon said. “I asked about one of the guys in the picture and Chaos asked about a woman. Jimmy said they picked us. The people in the pictures picked us.”