Death Kings

Chapter 28

Callum

In the afternoon Natalie comes into the studio. I can sense her immediately. I'm drawn to this woman. She comes up behind me, swathing her arms around my shoulders and leaning in so that she is whispering in my ear. "It's time to stop working, Cal. Let's go out. Just me and you." She is the only person permitted to touch me so casually. I even recoil from the touch of my brothers most of the time.

I grin, the smile tugging on the scar on my lips and face. "Ryder, put you up to this, cher?" I ask curiously.

"He might have put the bug in my ear, but the decision to have you all to myself was mine, Callum Beau. Let's fuck right here in your sanctuary," she says, her voice a husky whisper. She licks the shell of my ear this bites the lobe, drawing it into her mouth along with my gauged plug. I moan. She slides her hands down the front of my shirt at the sound. I hate being touched, but when that touch is coming from Natalie, my skin tingles with electricity and my dick comes to immediate attention. Par les etoiles, I'm a slave to her touch.

She kisses and nips down the side of my throat, stopping to suck on my collarbone. It's all I can do to stop from coming in my pants. A guttural moan is all I manage at the moment while her fingers roll my nipples into harder peaks. 

She stops sucking with a pop, and I shiver at the sound. A forbidden memory of my older sister making that sound creeps in unbidden, but I push it aside to process it later. Right now, at this moment, there is only Natalie. The girl who has captured my heart and that of people closest to me.

Natalie's fingers bury in my hair at the top of my head. She tugs my head back so that I'm looking up at her. Her brown eyes bore into my electric blue ones. "There are no ghosts here, Cal, just you and me." 

My body must have tensed slightly when the memory entered my mind to alert her to my thoughts. She is just as perceptive as Ryder and Jaxson.

"You are mine, Callum Beau Moreau. No female will ever touch you again without me breaking them. Or, you know...." She says the words that get my blood running hot. The backside of a knife presses against the scar on my throat, making me moan again. She trails the knife down my throat to my shirt. She cuts the collar of my black T-shirt. "I will make them bleed. I will place shallow cuts all over their skin. When I get bored, I will slide my knife into the body to hit vital organs. Then, when I'm done..." She moves the knife back to my throat, the other hand still holding my head back. She nicks me just enough to draw a small bead of blood. She licks her lips. "I'll slit their throats."

She kisses me as though I'm her only life source for air. I must be damaged to have developed a knife kink after being sliced and stabbed by them. I shouldn't get even harder about her drawing blood, but my erection is so painful, pressing against the fly of my black jeans.

When her hold loosens on my hair, I spin my office chair, pulling her down to me so that she is straddling my lap. I grind her hips against my erection, knowing she can feel it. She is wearing a little black skater dress today with little blood-dripping knives all over it. Fishnet stockings on her legs and cherry red combat boots on her feet. Her blue hair is plaited in a fishtail braid down her back. Her makeup is done with a smokey cat eye and her lips are painted blood red. It didn't smear with the kiss, so it must be one of those long-lasting ones that don't come off unless you use makeup remover. 

She is so beautiful, this fallen bloody little angel.

We kiss with our teeth scraping and tongues battling. I slide one hand into the skirt of her dress, finding her not wearing panties and drenching her stockings. I use the netting as friction to rub against her clit with my fingers. She gasps, tossing her head back and grinding her hips against me. When she comes, I rip her stockings so I can insert two fingers into her core. I'm fighting the walls clamping on my fingers with each thrust while she orgasms.