My cock throbs with the need to be buried inside her, I feel her warmth through the material of my sweats, taste her sweetness on my tongue. Fuck, she was as good as I remembered and those breathy little moans, her cries, they were like music.
I grind myself into her cunt, reveling in the way her head rolls back and her lips part, ready for more from me.
The urge to simply shove my pants down and impale her on my cock almost gets me, but she won’t be having that yet, not until I know she is mine once more. Until then, I’ll be reminding her of what we are, what we had. She’ll want it all by the time I’m finished.
I torture myself, the pleasure of grinding against her bringing me close to that release. She widens her thighs and lifts her hips, inviting me in.
“You always could take me so good, Snow,” I tell her, “We are perfect together.”
“Just fuck me, Hunter,” she begs, “Fuck me, please.”
“Look at those manners,” I bite her lip, “such a good girl.”
I thrust into her hard, grinding, torturing us both. My fingers curling into the sheets as those invisible restraints I put on myself pull tight. Not yet, I tell myself, I won’t take her yet.
“Are you mine, Snow?” I ask.
“No!”
I chuckle, rolling my hips once more before I abruptly pull myself off her body and rise to my knees, pulling my pants down to expose my achingly hard cock.
“Open your legs wider, Snow,” I order, “Show me your perfect cunt.”
She groans and widens her thighs as far as the restraints will allow, showing me all that glorious pink flesh, still gleaming with her arousal. I swipe a finger through it and then insert two fingers, coating my hand in her arousal but I don’t let her finish again, instead I wrap my wet hand around my cock, smearing her over my shaft, squeezing as I pump. Her eyes home in on what I am doing, darkening and her teeth snap onto her bottom lip. Fingers curled around the chains binding her to the bed, she watches me as I fuck my hand to the view of her wet pussy spread open before me.
“Hunter,” she whispers, watching me.
“Do you like watching, Snow?” I rasp, muscles tensing as the pleasure whips up my spine, “does this make you wet?”
I pump harder, faster, feeling the climax start to build, my balls draw up tight, my cock throbbing and then I spill myself onto her, my come hitting her pussy and sliding through her slick folds.
My shoulder throbs once, reminding me of the injury I’d just sustained by her hand, and blood has dried to my skin but there’s still a steady stream running over my pecs and dripping onto the bed.
“You mark me, Isobel,” I say, leaning forward to smear my come into her skin, “I mark you.”
She narrows her eyes and turns away from me, but she can’t stay in this bed, not with the mess of it. “I need to clean this up,” I say to her, unlocking her hands before binding them back together and doing the same on her legs, “You can then shower.”
“How generous of you,” she snaps, stretching herself out as I let her stand.
She doesn’t try to run, not that she can really go anywhere. All the doors are locked, the windows sealed and unless she has the code for the security panel she’s not going anywhere.
Once I’ve changed the sheets, I restrain her back to the bed and head out to the bathroom where I start to fill the tub. Steam starts to rise from the water and while it fills, I reach beneath the cabinet, finding that one pink bottle that had been stored in here for weeks. It had taken me ages to find it and I didn’t really know if it was right.
The pink thick liquid inside has a slight glitter in it and as I open the bottle I’m hit with an overpowering sugary scent. I pour some into the water, watching as it mixes, and bubbles start to form on the surface. Once it’s full I head back to Isobel. She’s sat on the edge of the bed, fingers massaging the areas around her wrists, beneath the restraints. Angry red marks stain her perfect skin, light bruising blooming beneath the surface from where she’s thrashed against the bindings.
I don’t show her how much seeing her marked like that affects me.
Crossing the room, I stop before her. She freezes, ice blue eyes lifting to meet mine.
Her beauty was physically painful to witness. I’d never seen anything as stunning as she, with her eyes of ice, framed by the thickest and darkest lashes, glossy black tresses and plump red lips. I lift a hand and cup her cheek, my thumb following the sharp line of her cheekbone. She holds very, very still.
“I know you’re not afraid of me, Isobel.”
The muscles in her jaw flex.
“You know I’d never hurt you.”
She scoffs. “You did hurt me.”
I wince.
She’d been the only person to ever cause me pain like this, like everything in me was broken and only she knew how to put me back together again, only to shatter it once more. I’d never loved anything, not growing up and surrounded by family, not in the many women I dated before I figured out I didn’t belong in normal society. But then I met her, and it was like seeing the sun for the first time, or feeling the rain after a month’s long drought.
I reach for her bindings, unlocking them and then help her stand, letting her remain free. She doesn’t miss it either. She cocks her head like an animal sizing up a threat, and I remember in this moment she isn’t the same woman I set free three years ago. No, that girl was dead. And what remained was a savage ice queen with a heart full of vengeance and a soul full of darkness.
Her pain called out to me, a siren song that reached deep within the yawning pit of darkness within my bones. It was like calling like.
She doesn’t lash out, instead she lets me lead her down the hall towards the bathroom, the cloying scent of that bubble bath saturating the air in a sweet haze.
Her groomed brows pull low, and curiosity gets the better of her. She peers towards the tub, eyes widening at the bubbles practically leaking over the rim and that scent, there was no way you could mistake it for anything other than –
“Cotton candy,” she breathes.
My fingers trail down her hair before scooping it away and over her shoulder, revealing the smooth column of her throat, “I remember everything.”
She swallows and then something in her changes. Her spine straightens and any look of surprise disappears from her face.
She turns to me and curls her lip, “Do you think you’ve done something here, Hunter?”
She laughs dryly, stepping towards the tub.
“You think I haven’t allowed myself to take a bath with this exact same bubble bath?” She scoffs, “You’ve done nothing special.”
Her arms cross, eyes doing a once over, “You think I care that you remembered?”
“Isobel,” my chest squeezes.
She smiles cruelly, “You can leave now, Hunter. I’ll have a bath in peace.”
I lick my lips, stepping into her space, close enough that our chests brush.
“You put on a good front, Snow, a real actress, but I know you.”
“You know nothing, Hunter. Absolutely nothing and if you think for one second that you and I will ever be on the same page, you’ll die on that hill.”
I cup her chin, fingers pressing into the soft tissue of her cheeks, “There’s several things I know about you, what you like, what you don’t. You can pretend that what you told me back in that cell was nothing, but I remember. I remember everything. All the fantasies, the dreams, the desires. I’ll help you remember, Snow, you’ll come back to me.”
“I’m going to promise you something,” she says, pushing harder into my hand, her breasts pressing into my chest, “I promise that when I kill you, I will make it slow.”
I kiss her, a soft brush of my lips and then I leave, rolling my neck side to side to release the tension from my muscles.
Behind me, the bathroom door clicks closed and before I can fully get away, the sound of a sharp inhale and a soft cry fills my ears.