Fable of Happiness Book Two

by Pepper Winters

Soon...I’d be free.

  I bared my teeth and threw myself into pleasure. I cried for salvation, I begged for someone to save me, I let monsters rule and—

  “Kas?”

  A female voice, not male.

  “Wake up. You’re having another nightmare.”

  A touch on my back, not my cock.

  A touch that hissed through my blood and made unbearable hunger roar.

  Whatever pleasure Levin had granted was nothing, nothing compared to this new monster. Her touch was brimstone, reaching deep into my aching bones. Her voice was ambrosia, pouring down my parched throat.

  I wanted.

  Fuck, I wanted, wanted, wanted.

  “Come on, please. I can’t bear to hear you beg—”

  Beg?

  What the fuck nonsense was that?

  Of course, they wanted to hear me beg.

  That was what they all wanted.

  Every guest. Every session. Every rape.

  They all wanted my screams, my denials, my pleas.

  But she...she could be different. She could be the one to beg...for me. She could open wide and take me deep. She could be death. She could be life. She could save me and end me, and this could all be over.

  The scent of burning flesh and charred skin suddenly shot up my nose. A fire roared in my mind, wrapping around me, melting the snow I was buried under, sizzling my skin until I was nothing but meat.

  Nothing but a meal for these savages.

  “Don’t.” I snarled. Flames licked over my back. It hurt. Fuck, it hurt. “Stop!”

  “Kas, wake up! I made you dinner. Open your eyes.”

  The voice grew strict, the touch turned firm, the smell of cooked meat consumed me.

  That smell.

  That acrid, cloying smell.

  I knew it well.

  I knew it because it was me. I was blistered skin and charred hair. I was flesh on a spit. I was dinner for all Fable guests.

  The flames burned me alive, consuming my legs, my arms, my cock.

  Whatever pleasure I’d found—the tiny shred of goodness—vanished under the gust of agonizing heat.

  Levin’s voice howled around me, morphing with the fire. “See how slaves burn, Kas? You’re nothing more than scum. Yanked from the dirt to serve your masters.”

  I groaned. “Stop.”

  It hurt.

  It hurt so fucking much.

  The hand on my shoulder dug nails into my skin. “Kas, please—”

  Rage poured through me. Anger and hatred, disgust and terror.

  A sick, sick recipe of exploitation, perversion, and abuse.

  I’d been prepared to give up.

  I’d longed for death.

  I’d been weak.

  How could I?

  I could never let them win.

  Never.

  Swooping upright, I collided with the woman hovering over me with false kindness. The guest who poured gasoline over me, her touch the match, her voice the devil’s fire.

  I’d never lusted for a guest before.

  Never actually wanted to fuck one of my oppressors, but for her? I’d make an exception. She was different. She affected me. She was right and wrong and pain. So, so much fucking pain.

  Snatching her arm, I threw her to the floor.

  “No, wait—”

  I didn’t hear the rest of her plea as flames gusted in my ears and snow swirled in my eyes. I was nothing but elements. Hot and cold. Biting and searing.

  I wasn’t human.

  I was wind and smoke, ice and frost.

  My head howled with pressure. My hands pawed at my enemy. And my body. Fuck, my body was hard thanks to Levin’s touch. I was needy, desperate, and out of my mind with desire.

  They’d broken me.

  They’d given me a promise of pleasure, only to burn me alive.

  I needed that release.

  I thirsted for it.

  And they thought they could take that away from me?

  Deny me the one precious second I might’ve been free?

  No.

  Fucking hell no.

  They owed me.

  They all owed me.

  “Kas, stop it!” the woman screamed as I shoved a fist against her sternum and kept her pinned to the floor. The spark of our skin was the worst kind of magic. Her heat. Her scent. It drugged me, corrupted me.

  She struggled and fought, her legs flying as she tried to get away. With my other hand, I unbuckled my jeans.

  My head cracked with a fissure of wrongness.

  I’d been naked in Levin’s bed. Freezing and dressed in snowflakes.

  Now I was clothed and on fire.

  My mind made no sense anymore.

  I was lost and alone, and she did this to me.

  She was the one to burn me, to feed fire into my blood and ash into my heart. Just being near her made my body sing and snarl. She was a witch with the perfect spell to ruin me, and if I gave her the chance, she’d collar me, leash me, and have me bowing at her feet. I’d shamelessly lick her toes and plead in the mud, begging and crawling for a single scrap of her attention.

  Why did she have such power over me?

  Why had I never been summoned to her before? No matter the sick and twisted games she’d command, my body would’ve obeyed. She would’ve been the only one.

  I knew that with my entire soul.

  She was a siren in my head and the conjurer of my body.

  I’d never been so fucking hard.

  Achingly hard.

  I didn’t know who she was, but she was the most dangerous guest I’d ever served. A single touch from her was a thousand needles of poison.

  She has to pay.

  My nose inhaled roasted flesh. My flesh. My tongue tasted musk. Her musk.

  She still fought me, goaded me. Thinking she was in charge. Thinking she could fuck me, hurt me, rule me.

  Not tonight.

  Tonight, it’s my turn.

  I shuddered as blinding desire shot through my belly.

  So foreign, so unique.

  I basked in it.

  I got lost in it.

  It was a gift, a curse, a beginning, and an end.

  If I had to serve this witch for the rest of my days, then I would sure as fuck introduce her to the animal that she’d captured. I would teach her that even though I was worthless, I still had the strength to make her scream.

  Chains snapped off me. Conditioning slipped away. They’d set me on fire to watch me burn.

  I might burn tonight, but she’d burn with me.

  We’d die together all while she submitted.

  Die.

  I want them all to die.

  “Don’t do this! Wake up, for God’s sake! It’s me. It’s Ge—”

  “Quiet!” I roared, ripping on my zipper and shoving the denim down. My ears buzzed. My head throbbed. Flames incinerated my eyelashes. My hips rocked on their own accord, selfish and manic, feral with the need to mate.

  With jeans clinging to my thighs and the sounds of my own grunts mixing with the crackling fire, I fell on top of the woman.

  She fought me. “Stop it!”

  My entire body jerked.

  It’d never felt like this before.

  The tingling, the hissing, the crackle of connection and chemistry.

  I’d never been so fucking mad or so hungry for sex.

  If fighting her felt this good, what would fucking her be like?

  My left arm, complete with some weird contraption around my forearm, kept her throat locked to the floor while my right went to her hips.

  She couldn’t stop this.

  It was already too late.

  I had to have her.

  She. Was. Mine.

  Levin vanished.

  Chewed by fire or waiting in the snow, I didn’t fucking care.

  He’d turned me into this.

  He’d snapped my mind and left me gagging for more.

  I wanted to be the one in power for a change.<
br />
  To hear someone else beg for their life.

  To have them cry and writhe, to whimper and obey.

  I sought her trousers. A skirt. Panties. I prepared to rip down any obstruction between us.

  But there was nothing.

  Just bare skin and delectable warmth.

  Warmth of a human instead of fire. Warmth that was comfort instead of pain. Warmth that drew me in, intoxicated me, and made my vision turn black with desire.

  “Think you can hurt me and not be hurt in return?” I hissed, wedging my hips between hers, spreading her legs with a strength that surprised me. I was stronger than her. By a lot. It took hardly any effort to kick her ankles apart, sink until our bodies pressed tight, then seek that perfect softness that had no choice but to welcome me.

  “No!” Tears fell down the woman’s cheeks. “Don’t.”

  Something inside me cracked.

  Something commanded I stop.

  But when had they ever stopped?

  My tears had meant nothing to them. My screams, my begs, my blood. It’d all meant nothing. It’d all added to their lust. Their thrill.

  That was me now.

  I was them.

  I was the monster, and fuck, it turned me on.

  No, I wouldn’t stop.

  I would never stop.

  I’d earned this.

  It’s my turn.

  My hips surged forward.

  Her back bowed. “Please—”

  I found her entrance.

  “No—”

  “Fuck!” I thrust deep.

  I sank fast.

  I sheathed my entire length inside her.

  “Oh, God,” she cried out, arching beneath me as I took her.

  I couldn’t breathe as her body fisted tight around mine.

  Holy Christ, I’d never felt anything this good. This intense. This toxic.

  She felt like sin and air, freedom and suffocation.

  It wasn’t enough.

  It would never be enough.

  I had to have her. All of her. I had to imprint her onto my soul and stamp ownership all over hers, just like others had done to me.

  She was just...more. More pain. More lies. More perverse in every way.

  I couldn’t get enough.

  I pulled back and thrust deep.

  She moaned.

  I snarled.

  Never.

  Never had sex felt so absolute. I wasn’t just fucking her. I was consummating all the filth inside my mind with all the venom in hers.

  We were joining, smearing, knotting. It wasn’t just our bodies that linked but deeper things, scarier things.

  She was a guest.

  She was my enemy.

  But goddammit, she felt like fucking heaven.

  The smell of death saturated my mind as snowflakes became flames, and flames became snowflakes, and we fucked in a circle of flickering orange disaster.

  All their tricks, their taunts, their tortures.

  I’d lived through it all. I’d protected my family. I’d given myself in their place. I could’ve run. But I never did because they would be the ones punished.

  I was their thing.

  But now...she was mine.

  I deserved this.

  I rutted deeper, taking what I was owed.

  This wasn’t about pleasure.

  This was about purging my body of every black and twisted thing. I needed to come to be free. I needed to pour out the nightmare inside me before it smothered me.

  That was why she’d appeared. Why I’d never seen her before. Why I’d never been dragged in chains to serve her nasty whims.

  They’d known that the moment I touched her, things would be different. I would be different. I would take and steal and covet and hoard because touching her was better than anything in my entire disgusting world.

  I drove into her, again, again, feeling the spasms of her body, the tightness of her pussy. She tried to deny me, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but coming inside her and finding that perfect release.

  The tingles of pleasure shot down my spine.

  So close.

  So, so close.

  I could drown in it.

  Lose myself in it.

  It could be my salvation if only I could finish.

  The power of her touch, the uniqueness of our connection.

  She was pure in this soiled, sullied world. She was the only thing I ever wanted after a decade of living in the revolting dark.

  Fuck, I couldn’t stand it.

  I wanted nothing else. Her. Only her. No breath, no heartbeat, no future. I just wanted her. One second of euphoria and then she could kill me. Every guest could butcher me alive, and I would accept it gladly because for the first time, I lived. I knew what it was like to be a man and not the slave.

  I drove into her.

  She cried out. “Stop. Please, stop.”

  Her voice was like precious diamonds, sharp and sparkly with tears.

  I wanted her to cry. I wanted to lap up her every salty sadness and claim them as mine.

  But something was wrong.

  The sizzle between us twisted. The fire licking around us turned black with abhorrence.

  That magic. That wonderful, wicked magic was going.

  No!

  I thrust faster, trying to find it again. I couldn’t believe something this intense, this right could just disappear. I’d felt alive. I’d felt noticed. I’d felt as if she saw me. As if she could save me.

  “Please,” I growled, rutting harder.

  She moaned as I went too deep.

  The tingle faded even faster, as if causing her pain only increased mine.

  No!

  Come back.

  I drove harder.

  Faster.

  Deeper.

  I lost myself to madness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “FUCK, I NEED...I NEED—” Kas grunted like a wild beast. “Goddammit, please.”

  This couldn’t be happening.

  This can’t be happening!

  But it was.

  It had.

  He’s inside me.

  He was inside me against my will. His cock driving so deep, so hard, my entire body throbbed with possession.

  He rode me as if he was a maniac.

  He touched me and fucked me full of delirium that could never be cured.

  And for a breathless, atrocious moment, I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. All my belief that I was strong—gone. All my assurances that I was worthy—obliterated.

  Every precious, powerful part of me had been snuffed out in a single almost laughable moment of truth.

  He was so much bigger, so much stronger, so much more than me.

  I’d tried to fight.

  I’d tried to wake him.

  And it hadn’t taken him any effort whatsoever to pin my flailing limbs, crawl on top of me, and mount with a single thrust.

  Oh, God.

  He groaned as his hips rocked up, grinding into me.

  That one primal motion shoved me back into all the lessons I’d been taught as a girl. I was valuable, I was fierce, I was deserving of protection, kindness, and most of all safety from monsters.

  And this was not it.

  This man, with his tarnished, broken heart was coated in demons. He was hurting me. Again. He was driving me out of my mind. With every touch.

  This was different from sleeping with him on the cliff. Different from any sex I’d ever had. Different because this was not consensual. The power was entirely one-sided. The violence in his thrusts not full of heady desire but panic borne from nightmares.

  His cock filled me, leaving no space inside. His body crushed me, leaving no air to breathe.

  He was everywhere.

  In my body, my mouth, my soul.

  With every rut, he carved off another piece of me.

  No!

  I fought.

  I clawed at his back and thrashed side to side. “Get off me!
”

  But it was too late.

  He was on me, in me, devouring me.

  Ever since he’d licked me by the river and woken me to his kiss, my body had stayed primed for him. I’d walked back with a secret. I’d been wet. I’d wanted him. I’d stayed wet because living in this house with him, where the walls dripped with mutual lust and the carpets hissed with blinding electricity, I was always ready for him.

  Yet another thing against my will.

  But I’d never imagined this.

  I hated him.

  Hated what he’d done and hated my body’s reaction.

  I burned with the need to hurt him as much as he was hurting me.

  Every thrust twisted me into something violent and full of rage.

  I never thought he’d be so trapped in his nightmares that he couldn’t wake, couldn’t see, couldn’t understand just how much he was destroying me.

  “Kas, stop!” I moaned as his hips pulled back, then shoved forward, faster and faster, fucking me like an animal on the library floor.

  “Shit.” His voice wasn’t his. It was throaty and stony with black memories. “See how it feels?” He licked at my oozing tears, driving deeper and harder into me. “See how it breaks you?”

  Sadness crashed over my rage, lashing barbed wire around my throat. In a split second, my emotions switched from violent anger to exhausting grief.

  What is happening to me?

  Why couldn’t I hold on to my fury toward this man? Why was it impossible to hate, all while he did so many things to justify it?

  “It takes everything,” he groaned. “Every piece of you.”

  I gasped in time to his aggressive thrusts, driving in, spearing deep, taking every inch of my misery to somehow patch up all of his.

  He dropped his forehead to the carpet by my ear, crushing me with his body as he rutted into me like a savage. His voice caught, wavering with sadness, madness, and everything in-between. “You’re different. God, I want you—” He choked and looked up, something dark and dangerous covering his face. His jaw set cruelly. His long hair wild and tangled. “I want you, and I took you. See how fucking agonizing it is not to have a choice?”

  And that was the problem. The crux of why I couldn’t hate.

  Because I did see.

  I saw it every minute of every awful day, and it stopped all my loathing in its tracks because...I finally knew.

  He gave me explicit enlightenment on just how much he’d suffered.

  How a single act that ought to be drenched in pleasure and togetherness could be used as the worst weapon of all. An act that ought to bring lovers together had been used against him to smash him apart.