by T. L Smith
Toska laughed. “I don’t plan to. I like her too much.”
I smiled at her words, even though they didn’t make me feel safe.
What happens when she gets sick of me or doesn’t like me anymore?
That was the real question that needed an answer.
Chapter 6
Make Love to Me
Two Years Ago
For almost a year, I hadn’t been to a party with them. While I spent virtually every weekend with them, and in his bed, I hadn’t been out with them. I knew while I worked, they did things that were insidious. I saw the spots of blood they tried to hide from me, but they never invited me to a party again.
Part of me was thankful they didn’t.
Could I have said no to them?
Probably not.
What they did didn’t scare me as it would someone who hadn’t seen blood or a dead body before. Hours and hours I sat with a dead body when I was a kid. That kind of thing was hard to forget. Especially the way the blood changed colors as it spread across the floor.
My reaction wasn’t normal, and I was fine with that.
Let’s face it, they weren’t normal either, and I thought maybe I was fine with that as well.
They were just... different.
When I had bad thoughts, I didn’t act on them. Yet, they had bad thoughts, and Toska acted on them every time. Even Syler. I knew how good he was with that hatchet, he practiced almost every day throwing it in the small backyard of their house. I would sit out there for hours watching him tire himself while honing his skills. He was a fascinating man to watch, the way his back muscles would clench when he pulled his hand back to throw, the way they contracted once he’d thrown it.
I was falling in love, and this was obvious to everyone around us. Syler still wasn’t comfortable with me touching him, even if I snuck my hand down his chest while he slid into me making me scream. But those actions would usually end up with him eventually pinning my hands above my head.
Last night, though, he didn’t move them. My hands gripped his sides, my nails digging in as he pushed me against his window and proceeded to fuck me against it. I knew my hands were about to be moved, but he never touched them.
His eyes closed then reopened, darkening just a tad, before he pushed into me harder, leaning in to kiss my lips. It was progress. Even though it was small, to me it was everything. Not even Toska was allowed to touch him, yet here I was marking him with my nails and more importantly he let me.
The days I didn’t see him or Toska were clarifying. It made me see how intoxicating they were to me. How much I was lost in their world when I was with them. The drugs, the drinks, the blood. I was just a visitor in their world, taking a back seat, and waiting for my stop. That stop had to come soon, I knew it, but I was also hopeful it didn’t come, because he was mine and no longer all hers. Because even if I had small pieces of him right now, she’d had him for a long time, and that thought was vexing.
It was the weekend, and it had been two nights since I’d seen either of them. Toska and I had been working separate shifts, so we hadn’t seen much of each other. Walking out of work, I spotted Syler waiting by his car. He was leaning against the car door, dressed in black jeans. His muscles were strangled inside his dark blue shirt, and people who walked past couldn’t help but stare. You had to look even if you didn’t want to, because he was someone you couldn’t pass without marveling at. The older women checked him out as well as the men.
Syler Hunter made my girl parts sing. And he knew it.
Stepping up to him, I got close enough that I could reach out and touch him, but I didn’t. I’d been with him long enough to know not to do it. His hand reached out, touched my cheek, and played with a stray piece of my hair.
“I have my car,” I told him, glancing back to my car parked not far from his. He dropped my hair, his hands going to the pockets of his jeans.
“I know, Mouse. You can’t come tonight.”
My eyes squinted at him. “Do you have plans?” I asked him, knowing what their plans entailed.
“She’s bad tonight. Her mind’s not right. Don’t come tonight.”
I nodded my head then took a step back, my breathing returning to normal. I didn’t even realize I was breathing so heavily.
“Next week then?” I asked, turning.
He stopped me with his hand touching mine. Looking to our hands and then to him, I didn’t try to squeeze or grip his hands like I normally would. Pulling my hand free, I tucked my handbag up near my shoulder and walked away, not glimpsing back to my Wolf, because tonight he might be someone else’s devil delivering them to his personal hell.
IT WAS LATE WHEN THERE was a noise at my window. I was lying in bed reading the latest Stephen King novel, so I ignored it, thinking it was from the rain or my imagination, but then the noise came again. Looking over, I saw him, his hand on the glass, his eyes so green, penetrating me.
Jumping up, I pulled the window sash open and stepped back so he could climb in. Gazing over my shoulder, I made sure my bedroom door was shut and locked. Even though I was of age, the last thing I wanted was my father coming in. Then I wanted to laugh at that thought—my father paying me any attention was a ludicrous thought. That’s a laugh within itself.
Stepping back, my knees hit my bed. I sat and watched him climb through. He was wet, soaked from the rain. Syler’s hand ran through his hair as he pushed it back. His eyes were hooded as he looked at me.
“Where is she?” I asked.
He stepped closer to me. He was close now, and the moment his hands touched me, I was his.
“She’s playing.”
I squinted and squished my eyebrows together.
Toska should never be left alone.
She was certifiably batshit crazy, and he loved every bit of it. Every bit of her. She was all he had.
But what about me?
Where did that leave me?
I shook my head and rid those thoughts before they took hold.
“Should she be playing without you there?” I asked.
Syler stepped even closer. I was his prey, a willing prey. “Let’s not discuss her...”
I nodded my head as his hand touched me. I had nothing on but a silk slip dress. His hand dropped lower until it reached my already hardened nipples, and through the dress he pinched them.
“What are we, Mouse?” His hands dropped until he touched the hem, and he lifted the dress over my head.
“Lovers.”
The dress was now on the floor beside his foot. Syler leaned down and bit my shoulder, most likely leaving a mark, before his mouth found my nipple. He played with it, then made a popping sound as he sucked hard and removed his mouth, then he stood back up. He lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his perfectly sculpted body. Light scars scattered his torso, but I was never allowed to ask or touch, so I made my own theories.
Then he unbuckled his belt from his jeans, the top button undone revealing his perfect treasure trail as he grabbed both of my hands, tying them together with his belt. His mouth touched mine once they were tied in front of me, and he kissed me with his lips and then there was a taste of his tongue before he whispered, “Not lovers, Mouse. Never lovers.”
“What are we then?” I asked with a whimpering tone to my voice.
He laughed lightly. “You’re my prey.”
Syler never said my name, unless we were fucking. Even then sometimes he didn’t say my name. It always depended on our situation. If it was a quick fuck, there was no talking, only screaming allowed. If it were playtime—him playing with me—he would say my name, and I never loved hearing it more than when it left his lips.
He was like my poison chalice. Because I knew drinking from him one day would kill me. Yet, I still didn’t run. Instead I drank heavily from that chalice. What a fool I was.
“Prey,” I said, mimicking his words.
He dropped his trousers then pushed me back onto the bed. I laid flat with him hoverin
g over top of me, his eyes boring into me.
Sometimes I thought we were normal—like a normal couple—but we weren’t. We were far from it. I don’t even know if I was the only woman he saw, well, fucked. He was the only one I saw, though. He was enough for me.
Those breaks we had from each other, I needed them. He consumed me and held me in his vice grip, so much so that I forgot to breathe my own air, and instead, I got stuck breathing his. I only finally breathed correctly when I was by myself, and the fog of Syler had lifted from my brain. But I keep going back, because like a poisoned chalice, you knew it would kill you but the allure was all too tempting.
He lifted my hands up above my head, pushing my breasts further up in the air for him. He always paid them special attention, and I loved it, because the way his mouth worked on my nipples and between my legs was a thing of miracles. Syler Hunter was anything but a miracle, but in the bedroom, he was the best I’d ever had.
His hands slipped under the arch of my back.
“Keep your arms touching the bed.”
I nodded and did as I was told. He lifted me slightly, my head still touching the bed along with my hands, as he licked a path down between my breasts and down my stomach until he reached my clit. His tongue lapped at it, moving in circles around it, making me squirm and want to drop my back, but I didn’t.
Then he licked all the way down my slit, his tongue sliding into my entrance before he let go of my back and removed his body from mine. I was squirming, the need I felt to have him inside me was strong. I didn’t know how long I could wait. Syler never disappointed me, though.
He pulled my legs apart, so I was basically doing the splits, and then he slid his hands up my legs to cup my ass, and as he lifted he slammed into me.
Syler growled as I turned my head to cover my yelp by biting my own shoulder. He didn’t relent though. He punished me with his cock, while he kept my legs spread wide. He had all of me right now, and I loved every minute of it.
One hand left my leg, and I turned my head to watch him. He dipped his finger into his mouth as he continued to fuck me, then pulled it out, reaching between us as he touched my clit, playing with it.
“Syler,” I said.
I was close, not much longer and his name was going to be the last thing on my lips before I passed out. He knew this and did what he’d come to do with me lately. His hands wrapped around my neck and he choked me. Not overly heavily, just enough for me to see stars and be on the brink of passing out as we both came. The first time he did it, I thought he was going to kill me. Now I understood that it was his kink, and a kink that made my pleasure of coming all that much fucking higher.
To be loved by Syler Hunter was in a book of fiction.
Because a man with no heart wasn’t capable of love.
He was only there for my pleasure.
That’s what I told myself when he wrapped himself around me at night as we fell asleep.
Because despite my stupid heart trying to give itself to him, my logical heart knew it was safer locked away from him.
Fuck.
Chapter 7
In Love
One Year Ago
Was it possible to be in love with someone who didn’t know what love was? Neither of us had any idea, so probably not. Though the thought of him was always front and center in my mind. Syler had taken up residence without my acceptance. Okay, maybe that was a lie too. I gave that man every consent possible. He could do with me as he pleased, and I would still be waking up happy in his arms every morning. He was my own personal drug and I didn’t need it injected into my arm like most. I didn’t want it like Toska needed it, because my high was just him.
His hands were skimming down my bare legs as I lay on my back on his bed, my head hanging over the side. He had been working all day on his computers, and now he was prowling me like he knew he was about to have his way with me, and it made me smirk.
My panties and a loose black shirt were all I had on, and his hands touched every bit of free skin he could find. Then he placed his cigarette between my lips, I drew back on it, and he pulled it away as I blew out the smoke.
Syler was my high, and that’s why I didn’t ever want to leave.
His hand cupped my vagina, and I closed my eyes. My head was still hanging off his bed with my body spread out like a platter for him.
“Move it! I need to party.” Toska’s voice was close. Turning my head, I saw her smiling at me as she stood in the doorway. I’d been with them for two years, two long years, and I’d come to know just about all there was to know about Toska Hunter. All her sick ways, and the way she had Syler wrapped around her finger.
Groaning, I sat up.
“I’m coming.”
It’s the first time since the last party I went with them two years ago.
Syler’s hand dug into my leg, and I yelped in surprise, turning back to look at him.
“What’s wrong?” I knew I wouldn’t get an answer, but I asked anyway. Instead, it was Toska that spoke.
“Syler, do you not want her to come?” The way she said it made my eyes backtrack to her, and her eyes were examining him, waiting for something, but I didn’t know what. He didn’t answer, just got off me, stood up, and pulled on his shirt over his head. I watched as he grabbed his hatchet, sliding it in his jeans.
Syler gazed up at Toska, then they both turned to stare at me.
“Get dressed! We’re off to play tonight.”
Her smirk should have told me not to go.
I wish I’d listened to that gut feeling.
But instead, I went.
We left in a hurry, driving over and pulling up to the party. Sliding out of the car, we walked beside her.
The man that I met at the very first party, who was covered in tattoos, walked out. He tapped Toska on the ass as he walked by her. Toska was off to find her next victim, I guess. Staying with Syler seemed to be the only logical plan.
The guy looked me up and down, then looked over at Syler. “She yours?”
He seemed so normal and nice the first time I met him, but it was a disguise. The way he asked Syler if I was his was anything but nice. No, he seemed as if he would chop me up, eat me, and smile while doing it.
Glancing over at Syler, his eyes were already on me. He nodded his head infinitesimally, and my heart beat faster, just like it did every time he touched me. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I knew I wasn’t allowed, so I didn’t.
“Keep her by your side then.” He glanced over at me one more time before he walked off back inside the house. One thing I had come to notice was that Syler never went in until he was asked to by Toska.
“You plan to stay out here?” I asked him.
He took a few steps until he reached a wooden bench, where he sat down, pulling my hand and making me sit next to him. “Yes. Don’t go in.”
I nodded my head in compliance but asked, “You didn’t want me to come... why?” My eyes were already on him, they always were.
His weren’t at that very moment. But he turned and searched my eyes for something which I’m sure he didn’t find, due to the confused look on his face.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
I squinted at him. “I won’t distract you, I’ll stay quiet,” I replied, thinking that was the reason he didn’t want me here. His hand touched my thigh, and he leaned in so close his breath tickled my neck.
“It’s your life you should fear for. She doesn’t play for long usually and you’ve been around for a long time.”
My hands twitched in my lap. Glancing down at them, I could feel his eyes on me. “What about you? Do you want me gone?”
His eyes didn’t move off me as he answered, “No.”
I felt his answer was true, he wanted me here as much as I wanted to be here with him. Some things, though, weren’t meant to last forever, and we were one of those things.
His cell beeped, and I knew it was time to go in. He stood, his hands tucked into his pock
ets as he went. “Stay here.”
I shook my head, standing and following him in. He didn’t look back, but he knew I was following close behind him. I saw the stairs, but he didn’t take them. Instead, he walked straight through the party, winding between the people dancing and talking. Some stepped away to make room for him as he came past, and others only stared.
He stopped at the door, opening it, then waiting for me to step through before he shut it again. The people outside couldn’t see inside, the glass door was tinted so black you couldn’t see a thing.
Turning around, I heard music. It was loud, but so was her voice. Toska was singing to the song “Black Betty,” which played through every speaker. A pool was the centerpiece with Toska dancing around it.
Going to take a step forward, Syler’s hand snapped out and stopped me by touching my stomach.
“Toska.” She stopped, turned, and checked back. Her eyes were wild as the music played on her lips again. She skipped over to us, and then looked at her brother then back to me. Her hand enclosed around mine, then she pulled me forward, Syler dropping his hand from me. Toska’s red hair was a mess, and lay limply down her bare back. All she had on was panties, her tits were free, and her feet were bare.
She stopped pulling me as we got closer to the pool. My feet were now on the edge, and her head dropped to the side. Craziness was all I could see written all over her face. She was broken and unbalanced.
“I want you to play. Now you play.” She pushed me in, and my hands flew out from my sides as my body fell backward. My heart pumped hard as my back hit the water, and I just had enough time to take a deep breath before I went under. Eyes wide and hands floundering, I made my way to the surface to see her staring down at me. She moved her eyes to the side then back to me.
“Play with him, like you play with Syler.”
My eyes automatically found Syler. He wasn’t observing me, rather his eyes were down at his hatchet, clutched tightly in hand. Turning to look where Toska gestured, the guy in the pool was obviously high as he floated but he was completely still. I didn’t think he even noticed the extra people around him. I swam over closer to him, and he noticed as my hand touched him. He pulled me down, dragging me back under the water with him. His hands clutched at me, keeping me down. I scraped at him with my fingernails as his hands pulled me further down, not allowing me to swim to the surface. Then in one swift moment, his hands were freed, and his body was still. The loss of him was instant and I felt free for just a second until I realized where I was.