Where’s Molly -
: Chapter 8
Present
2022
I have tunnel vision.
There’s only a sliver of light, the small orb blurring as I process his challenging words.
Then show me.
Show him years upon years of practice that I never utilized because I refused to put myself in a situation where I’d have to. Yet here I am.
A dangerous man at my back demanding to see what I’m made of. The honest answer is trauma, sadness, and scars that I can’t bear to look at. But I still feel them.
Just as I do the predator breathing down my neck.
I wait a few moments, each second ticking in my pulse, and then I’m twisting at the waist and sending my elbow flying toward his mouth.
He jerks back, and I only manage to clip him, but that was only a distraction. Before he can prepare for anything else, my heel smashes into his foot, causing him to stumble. Then, I’m advancing on him, keeping light on my feet as I strategically strike him in succession, meant to both keep his attention on my hands and lull him into a pattern.
I send my fists flying toward his head, which he blocks, but my foot is already hooked around his ankle, and the next second, his legs are in the air as he slams flat on his back.
I’m straddling him before he can process it, and a grunt bursts from his mouth. But he recovers quickly, flipping me onto the plastic covering before I can blink.
A breath escapes me, and I kick up my legs until my tailbone is lifted, wrapping my legs around his head to keep him at arm’s length.
I squeeze my thighs tightly, and he curls his lips into a salacious smile.
“Can’t say I’m mad about this development,” he rasps.
Before I can respond, he grabs my sides and squeezes, hitting a ticklish spot that causes me to jump and loosen my thighs. He makes quick work of slipping his head free and flipping me onto my stomach.
I manage to make it to my knees before he bars his arm across my throat and holds my back against his front tightly. His other hand sensually glides up my stomach, stopping short of my breasts. Though it doesn’t stop my pussy from tightening in anticipation, searching for something to fill it.
“You’re wound so tight, baby. Need me to help loosen you up?” he instigates, his deep voice wicked and rough, sending a tsunami of chills down my spine.
Panting, I still, my brain circulating over the different moves I could make. His hard cock is pressed against my backside, showing me just how much he’s enjoying the fight.
Snarling, I send the back of my head flying into his nose, eliciting another grunt. His arm relaxes just enough for me to slip out from beneath it, spin, and tackle his ass, straddling him for a second time.
A bead of crimson trails out of his nose, yet somehow, it only makes me more ravenous. Just like my pigs, the sight of his blood makes me feral.
His hands grip either side of my hips, and he pulls me down against him as he grinds his cock against my clit, sending a shock wave of pleasure shooting up my body.
A quiet moan leaves his throat, a sound that I’m instantly swallowing as I crash my lips against his.
I know the breath was knocked out of his lungs, and I don’t intend to allow him to have it back.
A growl builds in his throat and reverberates beyond my teeth, followed by a sharp nip to my bottom lip. It only makes me kiss him harder, in which he returns with tenfold the passion. His hands are plunging into my curls, fisting them tightly, using his grip on them to anchor my head and move his lips over mine however he pleases. Before I know it, he’s taken over completely, and I’m helpless to stop him.
I’ve worked hard to defend myself against a man’s touch, but one kiss from Cage is fucking paralyzing.
Just like he swore, he acts as if he’s starving, devouring me as he plunges his tongue into my mouth and curls it sinfully against mine.
I’m entirely lost to him as he tears at the white tank top, ripping the fabric in half and roughly pushing it off my body. My sports bra is next to fall victim to his fiery touch, pulling it over my head and flinging it into the unknown.
Instantly, his hands are cupping my breasts, gnashing his teeth against mine.
“Let me taste,” he demands roughly, his voice sounding as if his soul has been possessed by the king of hell.
I crawl up his body just enough for him to wrap his hot mouth around a nipple, his tongue swirling around the tightened bud before his teeth bite into the soft flesh.
My back bows while my hand flies into the short strands atop his head, crying out as the sting worsens.
Just when it becomes too much, he releases me only to suck my abused nipple back into his mouth, easing the pain with long, thorough licks.
The sounds coming from my throat are raspy and broken with pleasure. If my body was a kingdom, he’d be waging a celestial war against me where I’d easily crumble beneath his forces. The gods within have grown tired, and it’s a relief to succumb to an inferno the devil created just for me.
Cage retreats again, and just when he begins to dish out another command, blood splatters across my face, neck, and side, and across his chest.
A startled scream leaves my throat, and I look over to see Chili tearing into the thigh of the butchered woman.
Mouth open in shock, I turn back to Cage, only to replace him peering up at me with an emotion I don’t know how to name. But what I do know is that it’s powerful, unrestrained, and unlike anything I’ve seen before.
“You’re fucking incredible,” he says, his tone hushed.
Instinctively, I peer down at myself, where trails of blood paint my breasts, the valley between them, and my stomach.
I should be horrified, yet when I lift my stare back to Cage, I feel anything but. My clit throbs and arousal gathers deep in my core. The urge to grind against his cock is overwhelming, but I refrain for now.
Something wet splatters onto my face, then trails down my cheek before a crimson bead drips off my jaw and lands on my breast, all of which Cage watches intently.
His hands cup my hips, and he squeezes tightly. Feeling invigorated, I brush a black-painted nail across my nipple, my mouth parting in wonder as his stare drops to my chest. His eyes darken like a forest fire within, blackening with a hunger as potent as the flames. I’ve never been so ready to walk into a wildfire.
Teasingly, I smear the crimson over the swell and down to my ribs, where a macabre bird with its wings wired onto its body is tattooed.
The black-and-gray artwork snags his attention for a moment, but inevitably, he refocuses on my finger once it reaches the waistband of my shorts.
“Stand up,” he rasps, anticipation gleaming in his eyes. He doesn’t seem inclined to stand with me. Instead, he props up on his elbows and reclines back on them. He stares up at me with a reverence that can only be captured by the human eye. Nothing—not even our own hands—could recreate that image and do it any justice.
I do as he says, though my knees tremble and threaten to crumble as tragically as if they were an ancient monument.
“Take it all off, baby. I need to see everything,” he commands hoarsely.
My heart pounds in my chest as I hook my thumbs beneath the fabric of my shorts and panties and slide them down my thighs. I kick them to the side where the rest of my clothes lay.
Insecurity and forced confidence battle for dominance. From his position, I know he can see the scar on my hip—a perfect imprint of teeth from when Dad bit me years ago. Sadly, it isn’t the only bite mark forever marring my flesh. They’re also on my biceps, stomach, thighs, and of course, my face.
He left them everywhere, sinking his teeth so far into me that I passed out from the pain. Most of the bite marks eventually faded, except the ones now on full display, crimson smeared over them.
“Jesus Christ,” Cage groans. “Sit on my fucking face, Molly.”
My stomach twists as I step over him, butterflies unleashing within as I crouch over his face, keeping my feet flat on the floor.
Cage was the last man I slept with, and something about that is utterly embarrassing. I’ve gotten intimate with plenty of vibrators throughout the years, though I could never muster the courage to let another man touch me again.
Nerves eat me alive, but the wet, hot slide of Cage’s tongue along my slit has me forgetting exactly what I was anxious about. And his unrestrained moan that follows has my stomach tightening.
My mouth falls open as bliss consumes me, beginning at my core and spreading out to the tips of my fingers and toes.
“Oh,” I breathe, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as his tongue spears inside me, circling around my inner walls.
A growl builds in his chest and his arms circle around my thighs, anchoring me onto his face. My legs tremble violently, once more threatening to give out on me. They’re fucking useless when it comes to him.
“Fuck, baby, you taste so good,” he groans against me, the vibrations sending another wave of bliss throughout me.
“Cage,” I moan just as his tongue flicks at my clit. The breath in my lungs gets lost somewhere on the way out, taking a wrong turn and depriving me of precious oxygen.
I need to breathe, but I need to come in Cage’s mouth so much more.
Lips parted and brows pinched, I peer down at Cage to replace his heated stare already locked on mine.
The butterflies in my stomach become volatile. They’re unable to handle Cage eating me alive—whether it’s because they’re frightened that they’ll be devoured next, or if it’s because they know that by the time he’s done, I’ll be in ruins and there will be nothing left of me. No home for them to live.
He sucks my clit into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh and sending goosebumps scattering across my skin. Already, I feel an orgasm building low in the pit of my stomach, and while I want nothing more than to lose myself in it, I don’t know that I’m ready for the aftermath.
“Don’t stop,” I choke out despite myself.
He sucks harder, showing me that stopping is the last thing on his mind. Then, he releases my thighs and flattens his palms on my stomach before gliding them up to my breasts and cupping them roughly, smearing the blood further across my flesh.
His fingers pluck my nipples, and once again, I feel his teeth graze my clit. The threat is imminent, as if to say that if I don’t come soon, I will be punished.
It’s a warning that I have no choice but to heed.
His tongue continues to work me, and after a few more seconds, I feel myself approaching the mouth of a volcano, where I’ll peer inside, only to be blown to smithereens by the catastrophic eruption.
His tongue flicks, and I’m leaning over the fiery mouth. It flicks again, and I’m completely decimated.
Vaguely, I hear the scream erupting from my mouth as violently as the orgasm washing over me. I think I cry out Cage’s name, but at this moment, the only thing I can be sure of is that I’ll never be the same once I come down.
Bright bursts of color explode in my otherwise blackened vision, and the entirety of my body seizes against his face. My hips gyrate mindlessly, where his tongue is still flattened against me.
By the time I come down, it feels like I’ve traveled light years and back. Like I have an entirely new lifetime of experiences.
Panting heavily, I open my eyes, though my vision is still blurred and unreliable. Cage is slipping out from beneath me, and the heat of his body envelops me a moment later, his front pressing into my back. Despite the warm air blowing through the open barn doors, I shiver.
“I have bad news,” he whispers darkly.
“What’s that?” I croak.
His hot breath fans across the shell of my ear, and the effect is no worse than when a predator is watching you and there’s nowhere to run.
“I’m still hungry.” His voice is as deep as a mountain and as rough as the rock it’s made of.
My bottom lip replaces itself between my teeth, and I clamp down until I feel a sharp sting.
I have no fucking idea what to say to that. All I know is that he could take whatever he wants from me, and I would gladly give it to him.
His rough palms fan across either side of my hips, leaving tiny little embers in his wake.
“I need more,” he rasps.
“You can have me,” I whisper.
Dangerous words to say to a predator, but it’s been so long since I’ve felt this alive.
In response, I hear the clink of his metal belt buckle, followed by the sound of it pulling free from the loops of his black jeans.
My muscles swell with anticipation. For a moment, I’m transported back to when I was twenty-five with the same domineering presence crowding over me. And while it was terrifying, it was equally fucking thrilling.
Soft leather brushes across my neck, barely giving me time to register it before it’s looped through the buckle and being pulled tight. My eyes round, and the startled sound from my throat scarcely escapes before it’s constricted, allowing me just enough air to stay conscious.
Then, the telltale sign of metal teeth breaking apart follows. What little breath I have comes out in short, excited bursts. Fabric shuffles, and I glance over my shoulder to see him kneeling behind me, completely naked.
“You shouldn’t be real,” I croak.
He was beautiful nine years ago, but now, he’s otherworldly. Surely, a mirage I’ve constructed in my brain after too many years of isolation. His body is made up of muscles packed beneath tattooed flesh. Solid, but lean. A perfect combination that creates a masterpiece da Vinci fucking wishes he had invented.
He reaches forward and brushes his thumb gently over the teeth prints on my cheekbone.
“I have a feeling you shouldn’t be alive. Yet here you are.” His stare is affectionate, though it borders on obsession. “And I’m so fucking lucky that you are.”
I don’t know if I’d ever consider myself lucky, but at this moment, I think I feel the same.
Then, he’s tugging on the belt around my neck and roughly hauling me back into his chest. I gasp, my brain slow to process as my body conforms to his demands without thought. The pressure of his palm against my lower back follows, encouraging it to bow until I’m curved into a perfect C, my ass and the crown of my head pressed against him. His other hand cups the underside of my jaw, keeping me firmly in place.
He stares down at me with a savage expression, his mouth poised above mine.
“I love how easily you bend for me.”
“Just don’t expect me to break,” I counter breathlessly.
He hums, as if that’s yet to be determined. “But that’s my favorite part,” he croons against my lips.
His cock teases my entrance, slipping through my pussy with ease.
“Are you on birth control?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Though you should’ve asked sooner in case I wasn’t.”
He chuckles wickedly. “I still wouldn’t have cared.”
Before I can muster a response, he’s pushing inside me. My mouth drops open, and he’s licking my bottom lip, the act nearly as erotic as him splitting me in half. I’m trembling in his hold, and when he’s halfway in, he pauses.
“Can’t take it?” he asks devilishly.
“N—”
He drives himself completely inside me, not bothering to wait for my answer.
A choked scream greets his savage smile, burning pain at being stretched so suddenly taking over for a moment. But then he begins to roll his hips, and I’m reminded why he was impossible to forget after one night.
“I forgot to mention, you don’t have a choice.” He places a sweet kiss on my lips, something that would be a direct contrast to his words had it not felt condescending.
“Asshole,” I choke out, though the word is weak as he easily dominates my pussy. My attention is already hyper-fixating on the intense pleasure radiating from between my thighs.
“Careful with the words that fall out of your mouth, baby. I might get confused and claim that, too.”
“You wouldn’t,” I growl.
He pauses again, and his expression portrays utter conviction.
“I would do anything to show you that you’re mine.”
Somewhere between the beginning of his statement and the end, my heart worked its way inside my throat. I’m unable to speak or swallow, only stare at him in shock, for which he takes as confirmation to keep going as if he didn’t just rock me to my core.
I blink, and he’s fucking me again, tightening the belt around my throat until black spots swarm my vision, though careful not to cut off my oxygen completely.
This time, he sets a steady yet thorough pace, ensuring to watch my reactions closely. Within half a minute, he’s targeted a sensitive spot inside me and focuses on stroking right there until my eyes are fluttering.
It shouldn’t be so easy for someone to be able to pick me apart like that, but there’s not a single inch of me that gives a fuck right now. I wouldn’t even be capable if I tried.
“Cage,” I moan, my brows furrowing as the sensations become too intense. I strain against his hold, attempting to curl my hips forward, if only so it gives me a moment to fucking breathe.
“Where’re you going?” he barks, bringing me back to him. Then, he laughs, the sound savage. “Did you really think I couldn’t break you when you can barely take me?” he questions arrogantly.
“I’m taking you just fine,” I bite out, my eyes threatening to cross when he hits a spot that feels otherworldly.
“Then why are you trying to run away?” he whispers wickedly.
I want to slap him, but I’m so overwhelmed by the pleasure that I can hardly formulate a snappy response.
“Fuck,” I cry, squeezing my eyes shut as he fucks me harder.
“I know you can do better, baby. Let me see you take my cock like a good little slut.”
A sharp moan pours from my throat, followed by his name.
Once more, he’s licking along the seam of my lips, as if to taste his name on my tongue. Just as his mouth covers mine, I feel a warm liquid splatter against my chest.
I flinch, my brain beginning to split and latch on to the fact that I’m being covered in more blood. The corner of his mouth tics up, and he releases my jaw—though his hold on the belt keeps me in place—and flattens his palm against my stomach. He groans into my mouth while he smears the liquid up to my breasts.
While my instinct is to recoil from it, Cage only fucks me harder, seeming to get off on my body being covered in it.
It should disturb me. This entire situation is beyond fucked up. Yet, it becomes impossible to feel a damn thing outside of the orgasm looming just beyond the horizon.
Cries pour from my throat, and he swallows them all, proving just how starved he is.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp, my voice strained. “Fuck, Cage, please.”
His lips retreat from mine, trailing up along my cheek. I lose all coherent thought, my surroundings becoming disjointed and incomprehensible. The pleasure is like a disease, shutting down my nervous system and taking control. I’m a puppet to the infection, and there’s nothing I can do but succumb.
Time stills, and I shatter just as he releases the belt, sending blood rushing to my head, intensifying the explosion detonating throughout my body.
My bones liquefy, and the muscles surrounding them seize. Vaguely, I feel rather than hear the broken cry leave my throat. A sound that quickly morphs into a scream when I feel something sharp bite into my face.
Directly over the scar beneath my eye.
He groans against me, flesh trapped between his teeth, and his body stills before flooding my pussy with his cum.
Burning pain battles with the euphoria rolling through me in harsh waves. It becomes so overwhelming; it feels like I’m on the verge of combusting.
“Cage!” I squeal, and finally, he releases my cheek.
The plunge back to earth is dizzying, more so when he drops his hand from the belt, allowing me to straighten.
My back aches from being in the same position for so long, so I drop forward, catching myself on both hands as I pant heavily.
Fingers brush over my back, and then his thumbs dig into my tailbone, instantly relieving some pressure.
“Jesus, way to remind me I’m not twenty-five anymore,” I groan.
His soft chuckle reaches my ears, and I work up the nerve to straighten again. I cock my head over my shoulder, meeting a stare that hasn’t waned in intensity.
His thumb brushes against my scar gently. “I hope you think of me next time you look in the mirror.”
Insecurity rises, and I’m almost embarrassed that he’s focusing on my trauma so plainly laid out on my face. I’ve always hated my scar, and something inside me rebels against him replaceing a way to make me accept it. Especially seeing as part of me wants to let him.
I narrow my eyes. “That wasn’t cool. Don’t do that again.”
His smile widens, not the least bit ashamed.
“It didn’t stop you from coming all over my cock, did it?”
“Almost.”
A massive lie.
One he clearly doesn’t believe by the way his lip crooks higher.
I expect a smart-ass response, but instead, he leans forward and places a kiss over the bite mark. I’m taken aback when he pulls out of me, distracting me from the surprises he keeps throwing my way. Now that I’m firmly back in reality, I’m realizing once again that I’m covered in the woman’s blood.
“Let’s go shower. Show me around the rest of the house while you’re at it,” he suggests casually.
My mouth pops open. “You—what? No. You’re not coming to my house again. You haven’t been invited!”
He stands and shoots me a cocky grin.
“Baby, if you keep playing hard to get, I’ll fucking move in. Now, let’s clean up and shower before I decide I’m hungry again.”
He picks up his jeans and begins to slide them on.
And all I can do is kneel on the floor with my mouth agape and stare at his bare ass being covered.
I hate that it feels like it’s too soon.
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