“I’m going to start small,” he whispered, and his breath blew against my skin.
I nodded again, unable to say something. I had an eerie vibration inside me, telling me that I wanted it so, so bad. That worried me.
He traced the cold edge of the blade over the swell of my breasts, and my muscles tensed. He told me to relax, and I honest-to-fucking-God tried. I jerked when I felt a tiny sting just under my breasts. James pressed his palm on my ribs to keep me stable. There was a little pressure, and then a pinch. And then it was done.
I felt his tongue over the cut and it burned. I assumed he licked off my blood.
“Had enough?” he asked. His face was relaxed now. His body wasn’t stretched too tight. There was a lightness about him.
I shook my head. “No. Do it again. Harder.”
He bent again, but this time he came up to my lips and kissed me, making me taste my own blood. My heart thundered as he sucked my breath out of my mouth.
Moving away, he made another cut—the pinch lasted longer—but just as light.
His brows drew together. “Are you okay?”
I nodded again. I was more than okay. I was…him, joined to him in a way that I never would be, and yeah, that worried me.
“How do you feel?” I asked him.
“Less lonely,” he whispered his answer.
“Good.” A moment of silence followed, fraught with thick breaths. “When was the first time you did it?”
He looked up at me. His blade stopped see-sawing on my skin. “The first time was…accidental.” He looked back down, making another cut, this time on the side. “I was eight, I think. I cut my hand on a knife. It was bleeding. Heavily. But all I kept thinking was how good it felt. How freeing from everything. I thought I was crazy. So I stopped and then forgot about it.” Then he stopped again and looked at me through his lashes. “You’re trembling.”
Yes, I was. Trembling and quivering and vibrating. I’d never felt anything like this before. Eaten alive by heat waves of arousal. Eaten alive by him, his voice.
“And wet,” he whispered, shoving two of his fingers of his free hand inside me, making me arch my back.
“Tell me more.” I moaned.
Still inside me, James smiled. “When I was fourteen, I started back up. It wasn’t just good, it felt like ecstasy but just as terrifying.”
I was writhing on the ground, my breath hitching. “When…did you…become regular?”
He pulled his fingers out, and I groaned. Picking up the blade again, he made a particularly long cut, and murmured, “The day I met her. She thought I was normal, and I let her believe it. We slept together that night, and when I came back home, I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Did she know?”
Did he do this with her, too? My heart slammed in my chest. Please no.
He just lost his wife, and I was more concerned about who he shared this blood fest with. My priorities were screwed.
“She found out once. She was horrified. I never did it after that until…after.” His voice turned small, and I sighed in relief, realizing I was the only one he shared this with. “She was…she was in love with someone else.”
“What?” I jerked, but he kept me stable with his big hand on my hips.
“His name’s Garrett. They were going away together to work on the Florida project,” he said, staring down at my cuts. “For a long time, I watched them. At get-togethers and parties and lab lunches. I saw how she changed when he was around. She’d become freer, lighter. I never said anything because I didn’t want to believe it, and then, she told me that she was going away and that Garrett would be with her. I should’ve said something, but…but I didn’t. I was so angry and so scared. I…” He licked his lips. “I can never say the right thing.”
I mashed my lips together, trapping the anger inside. She was cheating on him. Him.
James was broken, yes. But he was a good man. He didn’t deserve it. I wish I could meet her…this nameless woman, so I could tell her how stupid she was to reject a man like James.
“James, I’m—”
“Shh…don’t talk.”
And I didn’t. I wouldn’t if he didn’t want me to.
He cut me a few times after that. Every time it got longer and harder. But I didn’t mind. I couldn’t name the thing I was feeling. It was something I’d never felt before. It was light and fluffy, but it was also heavy and black.
Then he stopped and studied my torso. I imagined it streaked with red. He thumbed my cheek and whispered, “You’re beautiful like this. Crying and bleeding.”
He bent down and lapped my wounds with his tongue. I almost came right then.
We had sex out in the open for anyone to see. And I didn’t care. He moved inside me, sometimes fiercely, sometimes tenderly. We never looked away from each other.
And when I came around his hard cock, a tiny whisper tore out of my soul. “James…”
He came a second after me. He tucked his face in the crook of my neck and sighed against my skin, “Madison…”
We had finally shed our limits, like sloughing off useless skin. Tears that had stopped streamed freely now from the sides of my eyes, down to my hair.
For a long time, we stayed like that, him on top of me. I couldn’t be sure, but I might’ve slept with his weight pressing down.
When I opened my eyes, the sky was a streak of orange. I felt exhausted.
As always, we parted ways, though this time, I saw him get dressed. He didn’t turn away from me. His eyes were on my tiny cuts and mine were on his.
How could I have let a man, a man, hurt me, draw on my ribs with a blade? What if he had killed me while I lay there, horny and freaking out with want for him?
Though the thought had occurred to me at the time, I still let him do it. My weird survival instincts had told me that James would never hurt me that way.
Just like now, they were telling me that I was in deep shit.
Chapter Twenty
James
Katie was still sleeping when I returned home—safe from imaginary monsters, safe from dreaming about her dead mother. I walked to the bedroom and knelt down by the bed, watching her sleep peacefully. These days, she didn’t even twitch while sleeping. Her breaths were even, without a trace of anxiety. Every morning, when she woke up, she had a healthy glow to her skin, no lingering exhaustion from a nightmare, no negative thoughts. She was…truly happy.
The first night I’d left her alone, I was terrified to come back and find her bawling. It was an irrational fright. I knew those medicines worked wonders. But she was sleeping, a slight smile on her face.
I never planned on going out the next night, and I almost didn’t. But the clock struck four and still Katie slept on, not having moved even once the entire night. I’d been watching her, looking for any signs of distress. My skin itched for the blade, but I did not move. I had to watch my daughter. But then, this need—this insane need—to talk to Nat, touch her, submerge my body in the lake, came over me. I tried stopping myself, but it would not go away. So I left, promising myself this was the last time.
It was not. Because there was Madison…
I placed a soft kiss on Katie’s brow. She slept on. I took off my soggy, dirtied clothes in the bathroom to shower. There was a hum in the back of my mind. It travelled down to my neck, my shoulders and chest, all the way to my stomach.
I feel like dying tonight.
Her reverberating voice gave me the chills, made me shiver, somehow feel…lighter. I picked up the blade from the vanity, unwrapped it and cut my skin, all the while watching the scars on my abdomen—new and old—in the mirror. I felt happy. That morning was the first time, ever, that I had cut out of…happiness. The silky emotion with sharp teeth.
Madison had seen my scars, caressed them. She saw the physical evidence of my sickness, but she did not turn away. Instead, she cried her pretty tears for me, asked me to cut her, inflict the same pain on her, the pain that I lived for.
>
The sight of her blood—brick red and rusted against her soft skin—sent a shot of madness though my own. Its taste still lingered on my tongue—metallic with a hint of citrus.
The hum morphed into a buzz, and it told me that with Madison anything was possible. It told me that together we were malleable, inside out and bent; we defied nature. Together we were transcendent, symmetrical.
With the blood oozing down my cuts and snailing down my skin, I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash the bloody trail away. The sting was sharp, fresh, almost too much to bear, just the way I liked it, making me smile under the onslaught of water.
My phone sat on the bathroom vanity, and it lit up with an incoming email. It was from the Dean. This was the third email he had sent me in the past few days, asking me to confirm a date about the celebration and a meeting to discuss the particulars about the grant. I had been putting it off, however. At first, I had assumed it was fear and the sense that I did not deserve it, and it was, indeed, true.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I simply did not want to do it. Ever since Mase and Brandon started working under me, the thrill became more about teaching them, guiding them, than finding answers. Besides, there would always be more questions than answers. Maybe it was time to stop chasing after them and simply be. Though I had no idea what simply being entailed. I quickly typed out another evasive response and got out.
Katie was still asleep so I decided to make some breakfast. I was assembling the ingredients in the kitchen when someone knocked at the front door. Somehow, I knew who it would be. I opened it and there she was. Madison. Sunlight streamed around her. Her very skin shone with it. In contrast, her eyes appeared smokier, her hair darker than ever, cascading down her shoulders and back, hiding my mark on her. I reached out and flicked it aside to see it. Her breathing quickened.
“This is the second time you’ve stalked me in less than two hours.”
“Don’t get cocky.” She leaned toward my touch. “I’m here to see Katie. It’s my day off, and I, uh, wanted to see her.”
She was lying. That was not the only reason she was here. Happiness twisted its teeth inside my heart. “Okay, but she’s sleeping.”
“Fine.” She insisted on keeping up the charade. “I’ll come back later then.”
“Sure. Suit yourself.”
“I will.”
Neither of us budged from the door. I stared down at her pink—somehow pinker—lips, and it struck me then that I hadn’t tasted her yet. I had tasted her lips, her skin, her blood but never her.
“I’m hungry,” I murmured distractedly, wondering if she’d taste like citrus—tart and sharp.
“Are you asking me to cook you something?” She frowned. “I’ll have you know I cook for no man. I wasn’t built that way.”
“I think you were.”
“Well, I beg to differ. I won’t cook for you even if you pay me.” She cocked her hips and scoffed.
“I don’t think I’ll have to pay you.”
“Is that right?”
“Mmm-hmm. I think you’ll do it for free.” She opened her mouth to say something, but I gripped the back of her neck and pulled her to me, smashing my lips over hers, almost melding them together. She held on to my shoulders and kissed me back.
Breaking the kiss, I whispered, “You’re it.”
“What?”
“The thing I want to eat.”
She looked shocked. “Wh-what?”
I pressed another hard kiss to shut her up. Closing the door, I pulled her farther into the cottage, toward the kitchen counter. I kissed her again, hard and fast.
She shot me a wide-eyed glare. I threw her a lopsided smile.
“Are you crazy?” She looked around. “What the fuck are you doing? What if Katie wakes up?”
“She won’t.” I hooked my finger into the waistband of her cotton shorts and slid them down, dropping them on the floor. I came to my knees and caressed her fleshy thighs.
“James,” she warned, pushing on my shoulders and arching her back at the same time.
Unable to control myself, I pinched the soft part of her thighs, just below her wet curls. She squeaked and tried to close them, but I held her thighs captive. She narrowed her eyes at me, and smiling, I placed a soft kiss on her legs. She bit her lips as her fists on my shoulders loosened.
I brought my gaze down to her open legs to study her core, wondering why I had never taken the time to study it before. It was…magnificent. The dark lips were painted with her moisture, and I imagined them leaking my thick cream. I still wasn’t sure why I insisted on coming inside her. I knew very well that birth control was not completely reliable, and I should be smart enough to worry about STDs. But with Madison there was no other option. Nothing mattered. With her I could be savage, be…myself.
I rolled my fingers on the outer lips, my nails glistening like her labia. My lips pursed in distaste. This was not an anatomy class. Labia sounded clinical, impersonal. And I wanted this to be personal, as personal as possible. I traced my fingers again over her…pussy. Yes, now that was the word. Dirty and personal.
I dipped my finger inside, moving it, and Madison whimpered, her hips coming off the counter. She gripped my wrist, trying to stop me. It was just as well. I wanted to touch her with my mouth. I removed my fingers and sucked them clean, watching Madison’s widening eyes.
“I knew you’d taste like citrus.” I bent down and smelled her. My eyes closed as I groaned. “You smell like citrus, too. And like the first rain.” Without further ado, I licked her pussy from top to bottom. She gasped. Her eyes fell shut, and the graceful line of her neck arched up to the ceiling.
“Do you like that?” I licked her pussy again.
“Tell me.”
Madison looked down at me with dark eyes and whispered, “Yes.”
I smiled and sucked on her lips, twirling my tongue on her engorged clit. She rolled on the balls of her feet and pulled my hair. I circled her opening with my tongue and pinched her clit with my fingers.
“I…” She tried to say something but stopped when I bit her clit lightly.
Satisfaction burned my chest. I made slurping noises as I sucked on her pussy, my fingers pressing against her clit. A constant, keening moan came from her. I could feel her contractions on my tongue. I let go of her clit and pressed the heel of my palm on her trembling lower stomach. She gasped and clutched my shirt. I increased the pressure on her abdomen and felt her pussy contract, gaping open and closed. Her moans turned pained the harder I massaged those muscles with my hand. I took her clit in my mouth, sucked and sucked, never wanting to stop. Suddenly, Madison grew rigid and shattered in my mouth, moaning softly.
Our panting breaths filled the silent kitchen. I rested my face on her stomach, trying to catch my breath and calm my hard cock. Her hand climbed up to my hair, and she sifted her fingers through it. It was…peaceful.
Then she had to go and ruin it. She pulled on my hair, making me move away from her.
“You’re fucking crazy,” she told me with the hint of a smile on her lips.
I picked up her shorts and panties and dragged them up her gorgeous legs as I rose to my feet. “You’re fucking tasty.”
She reached up and pressed a kiss on my lips, giving them a suck. “I believe you.” She smirked. “I’ve totally corrupted you, haven’t I?”
My arms went around her waist and squeezed. “Yes, I should probably stay away from you.”
“I don’t think you can.”
“Yeah. Not with you stalking me or showing up at my door unannounced.”
“I learnt from the best. At least I didn’t barge into the ladies’ room.”
A growl escaped my throat.
“Did you just growl?” She…giggled.
“Did you just giggle?”
She swatted my chest, glaring. “I don’t giggle. I never giggle.”
My hand crept up her waist until I reached the scabbed-over skin un
der her right breast. She stopped breathing. Playfulness vanished from the air. “Does it hurt?”
My palm spanned her tiny waist as I ran my thumb over the roughened scabs. I had used the sharpest blade on her so it would cut easily and pain her less. Simply by talking about it, her taste came alive in my mouth, citrusy copper.
“What would you do if I said yes?”
I pressed my thumb on one of her scabs, making her flinch. “Make it hurt even more.”
“Yes.”
Madison made me lose my breath. It was as if I was underwater and my body was floating, burning for oxygen. I looked at her and wondered where she had come from. What was the purpose of all this? Where would this end? What, exactly, was this?
In the distance, I heard the creak of the floor and the squeak of the bedroom door opening. I broke apart from Madison. Katie was awake.
She waddled into the living room, her eyes half closed. She skidded to a halt when she saw Madison standing beside me in the kitchen.
“Hey, sweetie.” Madison smiled. “Nice, I didn’t know you had Popeye pajamas.”
Katie beamed. “I love Popeye. But I hate spinach.”
“Yeah, I know. Who doesn’t? It tastes like puke.” She scrunched up her face, and Katie did the same, making me smile.
Suddenly, in a flash of realization, it came to me, and my entire body tightened, became still.
It was time to tell Katie now.
As I watched her interact with Madison, I knew deep down, no matter what, she would always be the same—playful and carefree. Yes, she had me as her father—the inadequate monster. But she had me. In her corner. To always take care of her. She would bounce back from Nat’s death. I would make sure she would. I would do anything to keep her smile. And that thought gave me strength. A kind of strength that at once made me feel lighter…better.
I had to stop running away and simply let the chips fall. Because I would be here to re-arrange them no matter what.
“Did you come here to play with me?” Katie asked.
A War Like Ours Page 23
