by J H Spade
I. Am. Not. Going. To. Cross.
No way am I going through a crimson desert for that scent. Or worse, for more punishment.
Chapter: _ Product of The Hunt
Emma
All too suddenly, the air is drenched in his scent, and the nearness of Eros nearly undoes me when I notice he is all around, perched behind me, holding me prisoner to him.
Here, to collect.
Solid like a wall, an impenetrable fortress of powerful muscle and need, I feel his body press into mine, grabbing a hold of my waist, so possessively while staking his claim. His very hard desire, stabs my back, and a worried frown falls over my face.
I don’t turn. Maybe, I’m a coward after all this time. The thought makes me hate myself even more.
All my bones set still, rigidly held in disbelief because my doubts and fears are revealing themselves to be true.
His melodic voice sounds deeper than what I remember it to be, the smooth glide of it, quieting my unraveling nerves while penetrating through my shock, “I have a proposition for you,” he says.
My chin dips, my body poised ready to sprint; although, I already know it won’t do me much good. I don’t wish for his comfort or to hear what his offer will entail. I feel incredibly alone, bereft even, since the absence of Darius’s child is a death grip now effectively choking me, making it plainly obvious I’m out of time.
Having him stand so close, the constant need for him sucks me in like a vacuum. It’s been this way since I gave in to the torture about six months ago.
All my plans tonight, wasted. I feel as hot as Darius, making it difficult to answer, “I don’t care for anything, much less a proposition from you. All you’ve offered me in the past, ends with my suffering. You shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have sent me after Darius.” I take comfort in the cool blade of my dagger, slicing through the air when I turn swiftly on the four inch glass border, with my toes barely hanging to the edge. Raising my arms as high as they can go, to reach his seven foot frame, angling for his neck with the sharp blade.
Knowing without an ounce of doubt, I’m at an awkward disadvantage tittering my life away, because by which way it happens, it doesn’t matter much to me. If one of us dies, we both do, with the forced bond fate placed on me, so let him kill me in anger, but at least Darius will live through our ill fated plans.
Time bleeds on incessantly slow while I hold the hilt of the dagger, so tightly I think I will bend it, but somehow manage to cut his skin. He doesn’t even breathe, knowing full well any movement from him will slice his throat. One cherry-wine colored drop streams a path leading to salvation or damnation—the truth is I wouldn’t know which. It traces with a lover’s slow touch over his Adam’s apple to fall seamlessly along his throat and land, punching a need so deep with its featherlight caress on my cheek. My hunger takes a sudden spike, my eyes half cast in desire as I look up at him with a sinner’s delight.
Gods, I’ll be forever doomed by what my soul has been chained to want, because it doesn’t make it any easier that he’s utter perfection. It’s too deceiving how a monster could have been made so gut-wrenchingly beautiful, it hurts to simply look at him.
He is different, tonight. His eyes are like looking into those of a stranger, yet I have to admit they have power over me. They always have.
For a brief moment, hope foolishly blooms in my chest precisely because I find him to be so drastically changed.
There is so much energy leashed under his skin that I think he may very well be radioactive, melding my body to his even closer still than the clothes he has on. His half cast smile, a sensuous dare in itself that only highlights the arrogance of an all too breathtaking face begs me to take a chance and drop my weapon. A face, I now see, was made to be my downfall as much as I was meant to be his.
I refuse to let his otherworldly presence and beauty destroy me. Time spent with him, tortured by his twisted games has taught me what a fool’s errand it is to have hope spring alive. Precisely because Eros’s dark beauty is too arresting, my blade presses with a vengeance deeper into his skin, the rivulets pool, streaming down the cold, unfeeling steel and onto my hand like a gift he’s given me.
I tell myself to be as heartless as my blade, leaving no need for doubt. Eros doesn’t seem to pay any mind to my inner struggles. Instead, he casually stands, holding me to him, embracing whatever end may come. It is unlike him because he would have me feeling the same pain he feels by this time.
Reflexively, my hand eases from his neck, and I don’t know if I should blame the poison keeping me chained to him, our mate bond, or the love I once felt for him for the brief hesitation.
“Careful, you may find a new craving tonight,” he purrs, and in it, I can feel all the unchecked violence and urgent need waging a war, pulsing in his veins.
“The only thing I crave is the antidote in your blood, Eros.” His eyes flash knowingly, and with a great intensity, he studies me. My tongue licks at my hand, while I stand molded to his lithe body, eyes turned to solid black transfixed, watching him. I can’t help to feel the smooth slip of his life’s blood, a heavy explosion, turning every nerve deliciously alive in my mouth. The taste is always heavenly sin, but it’s even better and inexplicably off, captivating me all the more. It could have happened, I suppose, if he’d drank from someone else’s vein which would explain how he’d been able to come after me.
I knew I couldn’t expect the antidote to work right away and even more so since this is my first time taking it. I thought it best to wait should I regain my strength in an effort to lead him away from Darius.
Only problem is I’m having a great difficulty walking away. With the sweet seduction of his blood on my lips, I think it best to confess my unfaithfulness, since I don’t owe him anything and defiantly say so, “I bedded and killed Darius . . . and I thoroughly enjoyed it. What a shame isn’t it? This is what you’ve made of me.”
In a blur of dizzying movements, he suddenly traces me to stand up against the glass barrier we were both just standing over. My blade clatters to the stone ground as he imprisons my hands, gripping them both tightly over my head and presses me to the wall with his muscled stomach and lean hips. I can feel his never-ending desire for me pulse insistent as he lets out a warning growl.
“You’ve become too confident, my little black bird.” My brows furrow at his earning as my eyes narrow on his lips and fangs, a sigh escaping from my own. I almost wish he would put me out of my misery by taking out his vengeance only on me and leaving Darius out of it. He sees an opening, lifts me up by pulling my arms, as if I’m as light as a feather. My legs wrap around his ribs, and I squeeze more than necessary, fucking hard is more like it, wishing to knock out his breath and shatter some ribs. His pain for mine is what he’s said in the past, but the truth is mine is forevermore sweeter to him. I think he is an addict for my pain.
The pain I expect comes soon enough.
He pushes me back harder, almost knocking me unconscious, my head striking the wall like a wrecking ball. My thoughts collide and jumble together completely hammered to a million pieces to the point where I can’t hold on to a single one for long and my limbs grow heavier. There’s a flash of white light, the barrier we’re against begins splintering, but the world is clouded crimson from my view with only his scent penetrating, drowning me in need.
He’s unbalanced me. Driving me insane, and now I only wish to anger him further, too eager to take so much more of whatever it is he wishes to make of us. Why do I fucking love his punishment?
I cry out in a moment of weakness and immediately thrash myself for it, taking some time to look up to the sky, searching for anything that will help me. Three golden moons are over his head making a crown of gold. He lowers himself on my body, his lips hungrier as they harshly descend to ravish me.
Breathlessly, I moan for him, pleading for him to do as he wishes and be done with it.
With the coolness of his minty breath fanning my arched neck, I can o
nly begin to wonder what this altered reality I’m living in wants, that it has him acting so differently from what I’ve come to expect of Eros while he looks to be wearing a golden crown made by those reflecting moons. I can see the gods’ work at play, and it worries me all the more. I’ve learned from experience to distrust them just as much as I distrust Eros.
I must have come to my senses and started fighting him because he says, “I’m stronger in will and form, little girl. You’d be wise to learn that now.” He’s right, of course, but it doesn’t stop me from thrashing against him. From pushing open his black cloak to reveal his slate button-down and fitted slacks as some of his shirt buttons snap free, rolling away along with my struggles. Too easily, I think, hating myself for my lack of strength in his presence.
My eyes fall over all the valleys and slopes of the defined muscles covering the smooth skin of his chest and stomach. I don’t want to feel the crushing need that has me paralyzed because I don’t want to need him, especially after being with Darius. Silver light shines over him. I find metal shining brightly in the night, cast by the thin ray of moonlight after I see a nipple piercing glint and alert me something is very wrong. Eros doesn’t have the piercings or tattoos I now see in intricate scrolls of artwork displayed over his torso and hip that beckon me with unspoken words. His blood gingerly traces the sharp beautiful lines I want to follow with my tongue. Eros has scars, scars of his time in my father’s dungeon. Is Eros different because of a spell, I ask myself in a trance. He catches me completely mesmerized following those black lines over his body and utterly at his mercy when his lips fall upon my neck in a conquering smile and he bites me . . . fucking bites me. His attack is done to keep me docile, knowing all the while he can cut out my throat with little effort if he’d so wish it, and I wouldn’t have time to protect myself against his sharp fangs. Yet, here he stands, surprising me by being careful enough not to cut my skin. His sheer size and power have me completely immobile, nevertheless, I strike with my words, “What are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to force me to mate with you now that the man I love is gone?”
An answering carefree chuckle before he states, “My . . . how those claws do come out to play. I wonder what else you’ve developed a taste for, sweet Emma? I will do many wicked things to you tonight, but believe me when I say, I won’t have to force you. You’ll want every inch of me. But I feel I must warn you, this will take some time. There’s quite a lot of me you must cover.”
He pins me with a challenging stare that has his jade eyes rimming with violet fire, something I have never witnessed before . . . but can’t help my reaction when my chest thrashes against his. My nipples harden painfully quickly at the feel of his blood covering me. I want to take the cold steel of his piercing into my lips because it’s driving me insane as it teases my skin.
Suddenly, I go still from thinking those thoughts.
I must be too stunned by his presence and all the blood I had moments earlier gorged on, because now with his eyes squeezing the breath out from within me, and his voice melting the restraints I have in place, the taste of his blood becomes clear, hitting me harder than any blow.
Chapter_: When Dreams and Sins Collide
Emma
I tell myself not to lose hope when I realize Eros’s blood and scent are infused with Darius’s essence. I further attempt to keep myself from the pain by whispering reaffirming words in my mind that Darius is still alive because Eros loves to torture me. To end Darius without my presence would be a missed opportunity for Eros. “Please . . . please let me go. What have you done to him?” I beg shamefully, a whisper as my pride scatters in the wind and worry for Darius sinks my soul.
His hand lays over my neck, almost as if he’s trying to quiet the rising panic that wishes to destroy me.
He speaks so softly against my skin as it prickles with a new awareness for him, I begin to think he actually worries for me. “Do as I say, accept my proposal, and you shall be free of me to have him.” Eros is clearly not himself. Instead, right in front of me stands a stranger who’s mastered me not with the threats he’s so accustomed to using in the past, but now . . . I don’t want to believe what he offers holds any truth to it. How easy it would be for me to grasp at the ray of hope with just a few words whispered in the dark, all my walls to lay crumbling to the ground beneath his feet.
I raise my chin, trying to suppress my weakness for wanting this badly enough to fall for another trap of his while struggling to find a way to free Darius, “You’ve never wanted anything more than to have me kill Darius. Why the sudden change of heart?”
His hands release mine, giving me an opportunity to fight, but I let it slip away, too stunned to react. He takes a hard grip of my chin, bringing his eyes to spear right through my soul when I feel the soft caresses of his free hand as he reaches between us, feeling for me under my dress. His breaths come faster, licking like flames at my skin. Too easily he breaks through all my barriers with two of his fingers thrusting deep into my core, making me cry out, and I can’t help melting further into his touch. He says roughly, “For this, to taste you,” he pauses when I close my eyes, bringing his fingers over my lips to coat my mouth with my wet desire, before his face drops to lick my lips as his fingers dive between my fangs, opening my mouth to him. I blame the venom for keeping me docile when my head falls back as I taste myself on him, savor all I can from his digits while I drink Darius from his lips. With too much greed, I seek his starving mouth as my eyes roll back in reckless need. We kiss like we are starving for the air the other has to give. Like it is the only air we will ever have, our kiss the only thing that can save us. His wet fingers slide over my chin and trace down, nimble hands stripping me of my dress, when I feel the warm air, drying the wet traces he’d made over my feverish skin.
My dress falls, ripped free to lay in a heap on the ground.
“Think of it. All I ask is for a chance to taste and conquer my need for you. Once I have you, you won’t hold me for long under your spell,” his words are said with unyielding fervor. He thinks by speaking them, they will undoubtedly hold true. I tell myself it’s for the best.
Laughter and a drunken chorus reach me, sounding faint and faraway. Realization that anyone can walk by and see me naked get me to react as I try to push him off. All I can do is scratch at his chest because there is no moving him, he’s simply too strong. I try to scramble away, but with a hoarse growl that steals my will, he hauls me higher on the wall, crushing his lips over my quivering stomach, my breasts heaving in the open night air. With a sigh full of the weakness I feel, sounding more like a war cry, my fingers tangle in his straight, shiny raven hair, pulling through the silky strands left longer at the top of his head, but shaved closer to his nape and search his eyes for a way out.
I realize too late I’ve made a terrible mistake by looking into his eyes. The richest gems are found in his amethyst eyes, and when he looks up at me they cleave straight through my heart because they hold my soul by reflecting the pain I carry. Yet his anguish looks to run so deep, it may even surpass my own, and it is why he has me trapped with one look.
I feel wetness seep into my eyes, though I know it can’t be tears because it’s been a while since, because of him, I’ve cried myself dry.
My attempt at restraining him, breaks loose his control, his words a gruff moan, “I want you . . . want to devour every fucking inch of you up against this wall. I want to force your legs open for me and make you straddle my face, so I can eat you alive, little girl. But I want to fuck you senseless while Darius has to witness me have you . . . more.”
Chapter_: Living on the Edge
The thought of Eros anywhere near Darius again hits me, and all of a sudden, I’m a woman possessed. I know that if Darius has to witness Eros taking me, he will probably kill us all. Opening my left palm because it is closest to my weapon, I send a silent order to the dagger lying on the ground, lifting and bringing it on a silent gust of wind to lie heavy in my palm. I h
iss a warning, surprising myself because the choice to end his life isn’t as easy as I’d hoped. He stiffens right before I plunge the knife in all the way to the hilt of the weapon, almost making it through his heart. I can’t bring myself to kill him as he falls over me, even when I know it’s the better outcome and the wisest choice.
He holds me to him, so reverently . . . even if he’s a second from death should I angle my knife a centimeter to the left. My surprise strike gives me the edge I need, more so, because he’s too shocked to react. Too concerned from what I can perceive of his movements when he haunches over, his shoulder striking the wall, afraid of crushing me with his weight. The tender moment, in all of its absurdity, lasts a few seconds, making his features calm while a starved look falls upon his face. A face that is sinful in its perfection, and I can’t help think it belongs to a dark fallen angel. His midnight hair has fallen over his eyes, like obsidian raven feathers tinged in turquoise they slide gracefully over the harsh lines of his cheekbones, making his plump lips stand out when I feel they are a breath away from my own. He’s about to kiss me again. About to kiss me when I’ve plunged my knife so close to his heart.
I’m taken back because I’m not heartless; although, I wish it otherwise, oftentimes. I wish it didn’t feel like I, at this very moment, have a ghost blade twin to his through my heart as well.
Gods . . . he is too beautifully masculine, and it’s unnerving. I hiss in a breath, wondering at how someone could look so calm, dealt a possible deathblow, and suddenly I’m struck by the love I see in his soulful violet eyes with my blade buried deep. Tonight is the first time I’ve witnessed the change in his eyes going from jade to violet. They hold me prisoner for a time as we embrace.