Unintelligible words came out of Marissa as his pace increased, his body beginning to shake as he felt himself closing in on orgasm.
Marissa continued to scream with every thrust, her face down, almost buried in the pillow, muffling her shouts. He held onto her hips, pounding so hard he thought he would fly apart.
Marissa let out a wild scream as she shook and convulsed around him. Her spasms squeezed him in just the right way, and his own growl erupted from his chest as he toppled over in orgasm, slamming into her with four hard thrusts.
Marissa, still lost in waves of release, managed to turn her head to see Neil as he erupted. His head tipped back, and as the howl came out of him, for a second, she saw a long snout on his face, his whole body darkening, and her hips felt the piercing of sharp nails.
She blinked at him, then looked again. Neil looked like Neil.
As he finished his orgasm, he dropped forward on top of her, covered in a sheen of sweat, and he nuzzled her neck and shoulders, panting.
“Wow,” he whispered.
Marissa nodded. “Yeah.”
Chapter 6
Marissa lay next to Neil a little while later, after they both had hopped in the shower and cleaned up; of course, that led to more sex, which made her thank God she lived in a house and not an apartment where some neighbor could have heard her screams.
Never had anyone taken her to such heights during sex. Neil truly amazed her. And for the first time in a long time, she curled up to him in the bed, glad to have the physical contact. She’d never been a cuddler, and in the last three years she’d really never wanted to touch anyone more than she had to.
Neil, though, seemed to change that idea. He made her want to curl up to him, to let him hold her, to keep her safe and secure, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
She glanced at the ceiling, and her mind wandered; for a second, she remembered exactly what night it was, and her vow, and she felt herself growing nauseated.
Neil, who she’d thought was asleep, mumbled at her. “What is it?”
She faked a smile, though her back was to him. “Nothing,”
“You have that smell again,” he whispered.
“What smell?” Marissa asked, sniffing her arm. She didn’t smell anything weird.
“That mourning smell,” he mumbled, pulling her harder up against him and kissing her neck. “What do you mourn?”
“There’s a smell to mourning?”
“Answer my question,” Neil said, nuzzling her shoulder, “and I’ll answer yours.”
She let a smile flutter across her mouth, his teasing soothing her, if only briefly. The darkness that welled in her chest pounded, and the urge to run started to overpower her, but as if Neil could sense it, he held her tighter.
“It’s okay,” he said.
Hot tears burned her cheeks. “I killed my parents.”
She half expected Neil to pull away, to ask what kind of psycho she must be, killing her parents and all, but he didn’t. His fingers grazed her shoulders, waiting for her to go on.
In her mind, she wondered if she should. The truth stained her mind; she didn’t want to think about it, she didn’t want to feel it, only to be lost in it. Speaking of it made it so much more real, so much more clinical, and she wasn’t ready for that.
Yet here, in Neil’s arms, she felt like he’d protect her from anything.
After all, he’d protected her from Kirk.
Still, she didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to relive those moments in her mind. She rolled over, facing Neil, placing a kiss on his lips. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Neil arched his eyebrow at her, stroking a finger down her cheek. “It torments you,” he said. “Release it. Only releasing it can you find healing.”
She closed her eyes. “It’s not your burden to bear. You didn’t kill them.” She could hear the squealing of tires, the crunch of metal against concrete in her mind, the sounds, though only what her mind created, held a resonance that made her shudder.
“And I doubt you did, either,” Neil said, stroking her face, wiping away the rogue tear on her cheek.
“How do you know?”
“Because you’d be in an orange jumpsuit behind bars if you’d killed them. And I doubt orange is a good color for you.”
Her heart shuddered, the pounding so strong, she swore it was an external sound. “I didn’t pull a trigger,” she whispered, her eyes shut. “But I might as well have.”
“I doubt that.”
She could see them clearly in her mind, right there, painted in her brain, the image of the last time she’d seen her parents. On Halloween they’d dressed as the odd couple—Dad, a devil, and Mom an angel; Mom’s halo glittering, her face covered in glitter powder, and Dad, armed with corny red horns and a pitchfork.
It was the last time she’d seen them, both smiling, both laughing, and they were ecstatically waving at her, wishing her well.
“They were at a teen and adult Halloween party. The kids downstairs watching scary movies, the adults upstairs,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She opened her eyes and looked at Neil, who only nodded for her to go on. “I knew Dad was drunk, I could see it in his eyes. And I knew… I knew he’d drive home.”
Neil stroked her arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“I should have stayed,” she said, remembering how she’d wanted to get to her own Halloween party, get away from the teens and the coupled adults, get to her own friends and have some fun.
“It’s not your fault,” he whispered.
Marissa shook her head. “It was! I should have stayed. Instead, I had to get to my own party, my own friends, because I was too cool to hang out with my parents and my brother. I had guys waiting for me… I killed my family because I wanted to get laid,” she whispered, staring at Neil. “And here I am, desecrating the day they died by doing the same thing.”
“Marissa,” Neil whispered. “You’re not desecrating their memory.”
She scooted farther across the bed, away from him. “I think you should go. You shouldn’t be here,” she said, rubbing at her arms. She had to get the feel of him off her, the sex off her skin.
A shower. She needed to scrub her skin, scrub off the sex, make it go away.
Neil reached forward and pulled her up next to him, his strength incredible, and he wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her to him.
“No,” he whispered, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Get off me! Get out!” she cried, her voice losing some of its strength as his body kept her held tight against him.
Tears burned in her eyes. “I can’t, I can’t allow any happiness on this day,” she said. “This day, I can’t be happy.”
Neil stroked her hair, feeling her body tremble against him, and he wanted with every fiber of his being to calm her down, to ease her pain, but he couldn’t find it within himself to do so.
He didn’t know how.
Her tears burned like acid on his chest.
“Shh. It’s going to be okay,” he said.
“It’s not okay,” she said through her tears, her voice harsh. “It’ll never be okay. My family is dead! It’s my fault! I was selfish, and now they’re dead!”
“You didn’t give your dad the keys. You didn’t tell him to drive. He made that choice. He took responsibility when he got behind the wheel.”
“If I had been there,” she cried against his chest, “then… then… maybe, maybe I could have…”
He pulled her face up to look at him. “Would he have even let you take his keys? I can’t imagine too many dads allowing their little kid to drive them home.”
“But I could have tried! I could have been there!”
He ran his fingers down her cheek. “We can live our lives wondering ‘what if’ for as long as we are breathing, but that’s not living, Marissa. That’s just existing.” He let out a sigh. “Do you really think your parents would have wanted you to merely exist
after they left? Or would they have wanted you to live?”
Marissa buried her head into his chest and cried. She wailed, then she would sob; a soft weeping sound eventually replaced the sobs, until her breathing leveled out, and she’d cried herself to sleep.
Neil still didn’t let her go, a few tears slipping down his cheek.
*
The dawn cut into the bedroom window, and Marissa found herself stroked and prodded awake in the most sensual and gentle ways possible.
She couldn’t quite remember everything from last night, at least after the coupling, except that she’d cried a lot. And Neil had held her to him, letting her cry. Though she did remember telling him about her parents, and now she felt lighter than she had in years.
Could he have been right? Could just opening up have been what she’d needed all this time? Her heart still ached for her parents, but something about the way the sun shined in the room, it was a new day, and a new beginning for her.
She couldn’t thank Neil enough for that.
She glanced at her body, seeing him pressing kisses on her stomach.
Okay, maybe she could think of a few ways to thank him.
She fully awoke, her body flaming in desire as Neil knelt between her legs, running his lips over hers, her body quickly running toward release, throbbing and insistent as her climax shook her, her hips rocking hard into his face.
Neil growled against her as he sucked, only making the shaking climax shoot higher and higher.
When she finally ebbed, Neil crawled back up her body, his erection pressing against her inner thigh, and it moved as if it throbbed as much as she did. She shifted her hips so his hard cock was poised at her entrance.
Neil ran a hand down her cheek, pressing a soft kiss against her lips, the lingering scent of what he’d just done made Marissa even hotter.
“And you’re waiting for?” she asked him, shoving her hips up against his.
The corner of Neil’s mouth quirked up at her, and he reached over her shoulder to the small jewelry box that sat on her nightstand. Flipping it open, he pulled out a condom and in a second was sheathed, ready to dive in.
Neil pushed her hip to roll her over again, but Marissa shook her head. “No,” she said. “I want to see you when you come.”
Neil closed his eyes, and nodded his head. He entered her very slowly; his body tight and restrained.
His pace was excruciatingly slow, and Marissa tried encouraging him to speed up, to release that animalistic power he’d had before, but he wouldn’t do it.
He kept his pace slow and steady, like a metronome keeping time.
She caressed his skin, his arms, his chest, anything she could think of to push him harder toward climax; as she licked his shoulders, he growled and pushed her down away from him.
“Neil?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?” Panic filled her. Was he repulsed by her? Did he hate her, and was doing this out of pity? Did he not want to be here anymore?
“I…” His voice sounding like he held back every part of himself, trying to keep himself together.
“You can let go.” What happened? Why was he afraid to let go, like he did last night? Did she do something wrong? Did she make it too hard for him now?
“I can’t.”
“What are you afraid of?” she stroked his face.
He turned into her hand, kissing her palm as she slid her fingers away from him. “I don’t want to frighten you.”
“You won’t. You can’t do anything to frighten me.” She stroked his chest, her fingers threading through his chest hairs. She almost added that she felt safe with him, but she stopped herself. Too much too soon.
“I’m not like other men,” he said.
“And I’m not like other women.”
Neil’s head went down, and he placed a few kisses on her neck. “No, you’re not, you’re amazing. And I can’t...” he said, rolling away from her and getting out of bed.
“Neil? Neil! Get back here!”
“I’m going to hurt you,” he said, grabbing for his pants.
“You are hurting me. Please don’t go,” she said. She’d never begged a man to stay with her in her life, ever. Yet seeing him climb off her, getting out of her bed, any pride she had disappeared, and she wanted him to stay.
Please, you have to stay. I need you! She couldn’t handle him leaving her.
“If I stay, and I tell you everything, I will hurt you.” He fastened his pants.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, every horrible possibility running rampant through her mind. “You’re married?”
Neil laughed. “I wish. That would be believable.”
She shook her head, her chest tight, anguish pouring out of her. “I don’t understand. Please don’t go.”
Neil said nothing and picked up his shirt.
“God, tell me you’re gay, tell me your married, something!” Anger shot through her. How could he? How could he just up and walk away? Now? What was wrong with him? What was wrong with her? “Give me something to write you off with! Anything! Don’t leave. Don’t leave me knowing that I’ve never felt safer with anyone in my life, and you’re going to walk away?”
Neil tipped his head back and howled. Not scream, not a cry, a howl—rich, animalistic, primal, and not human.
Her eyes widened, and she scooted across the bed, the noise piercing her heart. In a flash, she saw Neil’s jaw extend, his skin darken, and no longer did he look human, but like a large monster. A monster!
She screamed at the sight of him.
Neil faded back to himself.
“No!” she pulled the covers up over her body, cowering against the back of the bed. She reached for something she could use, some kind of weapon, but she had none.
He was a monster!
Neil’s green eyes flashed at her, and she stopped shaking.
“I’m a werewolf,” Neil whispered, and turned, leaving the room. A white card fluttered from his fingers as he walked out. “Forgive me.”
She stared after him, watching Neil leave, hearing the front door shut, and she continued to stare.
She didn’t move for a very long time.
Chapter 7
November 7th
Shadows hung under Marissa’s eyes, her long hair bundled up into a ponytail, and her skin pale.
She stared at herself in the glass while she waited for the door to be answered. She looked ill, like she hadn’t been eating. And she hadn’t. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see him.
But not as the man she’d met or slept with. She saw him as the monster, as the werewolf that he was, and it frightened her.
The howl he’d bellowed still pierced her heart, for she could feel the sorrow in the sound, and she knew he felt it as much as she did.
Still, he’d run away.
No different than anyone else.
Marissa touched her sunken cheek. He did this to me, she thought. Neil.
The wooden door behind the glass one opened, ruining her reflection, and Kristy stood on the other side. “Marissa,” she said, smiling. Then she looked at her. “Oh God.” Like she knew everything. And something about that was even more upsetting.
Kristy escorted her in. Where Halloween decorations had been a week ago now hung garlands of golden leaves and other things for Thanksgiving, including a paper turkey on the fireplace mantel.
She sat on the older couch, Kristy bringing her a glass of water and offering her some food, but she hadn’t been able to eat for days. Everything around her had taken on a bizarre stain, a sheen of unbelievability.
Nothing seemed real.
Even food.
Kristy sat down, chattering about how much fun the party was, telling her about other hook-ups and such that had occurred at the party, and something about the punch bowl being spilled later in the evening, and her having to scrub for an hour to get all the red out of the carpet.
“Oh, and I thought you might like to know.” Kristy brought her glass up to her lips
to take a sip before going on. “Kirk’s been, uh, arrested.”
“I didn’t want anyone to press charges.”
“Not for what he did to you. He confessed to those slayings that have been going on. He’s, uh, being detained now.”
“Those SWAT guys have him?”
“Who, the Knights? Yeah,” she said, smiling. “He’s being questioned about a few other things before sentencing is passed.”
“I can’t believe Kirk would do that kind of stuff. He could be rough, but I can’t imagine him…”
“Well, you’d be surprised.”
Kristy certainly had a point—after what she’d seen with Neil, she pretty much was ready to believe anything. Maybe not believe, but comprehend. Though even that seemed like a farce—believing that monsters walked the earth? That all those fairy tales really could exist?
Even that Neil had saved her from Kirk.
A monster had saved her.
It wasn’t the first time in recent history. She seemed to be saved a lot by animals. Whether they looked human or not didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, did it?
Marissa’s mind whirled, and she felt herself sliding down into the same abyss she’d been in for the last week.
Instead of letting the abyss take her, she concentrated on the glass of water Kristy had given her, the way the ice danced around, moving just a tiny bit every time her hand shifted. She hadn’t been to work all week, using up a good chunk of her vacation. She couldn’t deal with what she’d seen.
She’d unplugged her phone and turned off her cellphone, barricading herself in her house. She’d showered seven times after Neil left, trying to get the smell of him off her, but even now, days later, she could still smell him.
The monster.
Who had saved her from the man.
Which was worse?
She didn’t even know why she’d come to Kristy’s house. She probably could have called, but she’d needed to see her face.
She needed to know this wasn’t a dream.
“Have you talked to Neil?” Kristy asked, the sentence breaking through the fog of her brain.
Unholy Night Page 5