Dead of Summer

“You really think so?” I close my eyes hard. “I think I’d rather love the ax you were going to kill them with.”

He pauses with one hand on my waist. For a few long, terrifying moments, all I can hear is my sharp breathing in the small space of the boathouse. His fingers twitch against my skin, hand moving around until he can grip my hip with more force than is probably necessary, but not enough to bruise.

He’s upset with me. A shiver travels down my spine, and considering our closeness, I know for certain that Kayde feels it. There’s no way he can’t.

“Tell you what,” Kayde purrs, his face still pressed to my cheek. “I’m going to give you some free advice from the goodness of my heart.” There is no goodness in his heart, but this time, I don’t open my mouth to poke the proverbial bear any harder. He nips at the line of my jaw, and sinks lower to mouth the side of my neck teasingly. “You really need to work on insulting me. Or anyone. You’re so good at being so mouthy, aren’t you, sweetheart? You just say whatever comes to your mind. But then you regret it. You look at me with horror in those pretty eyes, or you shiver like you think I’ll slap you. If you’re going to insult me, if you’re going to mouth off to anyone…”

He tilts his head back up to whisper in my ear, “Then you better not give any signs of fear, Summer.” Quick as a snake, he strikes, his teeth sinking into my neck, just over my pulse point.

I can’t help it. I scream. It can’t be as loud as it seems as the sound echoes in the small storage area of the boathouse. “Stop, stop!” I beg, aware of his teeth sinking impossibly deeper, like Kayde is trying to bite my throat clean out. The pain flicks white hot through my brain, and I grip the ropes more tightly as Kayde holds me in place with one hand, the other tangled in my hair. Not that I can really go anywhere.

When he does finally pull away, the burning sting lingers, and Kayde tilts his head up to the light just to fucking grin at me.

And shows off that his normally perfectly white teeth are tinged with pink.

“You—” I jerk my arm, forgetting that I can’t move it properly. “You broke skin? You fucking?—”

He kisses me hard, slamming his lips into mine firmly enough that his teeth click uncomfortably against my own. He nips at my bottom lip, threatening to do the same there as he had to my still-burning throat, before forcing his tongue past my lips so I can taste the coppery bitterness of my blood in his mouth.

“Best way to make sure it leaves a mark,” he purrs finally, pulling away and mouthing down my throat until he comes to the bite once more. I whimper, half over-sensitive and half in fear, but instead of biting down against the wound he’s created, Kayde laps his tongue over it like a wolf trying to get as much blood from a kill that it can.

The comparison only makes me go up on my toes as I seek any escape from the burning, wet, tingling feel of his mouth on my throat. The pain ebbs under his attention, just enough that when he licks over my skin again, the feelings that shoot from that spot aren’t nearly as unpleasant or unbearable as they had been.

But my head starts to spin and I whine again, begging him wordlessly to stop, to give me a fucking minute, at least. Not that Kayde seems to know what that concept is. He kisses down my shoulder, licks just above my collarbone, and peeks up at me with a narrow-eyed, excited look that makes my stomach flip.

“N-no,” I beg, trying to pull away from him. “Don’t bite me like that again, please—” He only looks away as his teeth sink into my skin and I shriek yet again, though the pain is duller this time, not quite so bad, and it occurs to me he isn’t trying to break skin there.

Yet.

The hand in my hair shifts, then leaves completely, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than his mouth. The searing, stinging heat of his attention is all-consuming and has me writhing without much input from my brain as I both try to get away from him and find some semblance of balance in the rope binds he has me in.

I barely even feel it when his fingers first stroke over my folds. It’s teasing, ghostly even; until he does it again with more intent, and this time my whine is something else entirely that I won’t ever admit to making.

Especially with Kayde stroking my clit while he sucks a mark onto my shoulder that won’t fade for days. More than anything, I wish I could move my arms. Though whether that’s so I can push him away and shove him into a wall or drag him closer and bury my fingers in his hair, I’m not sure.

I hate this.

Well, mostly anyway.

Words and pleas and sounds fall from my lips as he bites me, marking me twice more on my left shoulder before moving to my right and starting from the outside in. When he does, he slides two fingers into me, curling them and fucking me on them languidly as he pulls another bruise to the surface of my skin.

“So responsive for me,” he praises, his words appreciative. “So loud. Good thing we won’t be heard out here, right, sweetheart?” Without waiting for an answer, Kayde marks up my right shoulder, then licks over the side of my neck that mirrors where he’d bit me the first time.

I choke off of a breath, eyes wide as he looks at me. “Please don’t,” I beg, chest heaving as I pant and try not to shake, though I’m not doing a very convincing job of it. “Please—” I know what he’s going to do. It’s clear in his eyes and the small smile that curls at his lips.

“Baby girl,” he murmurs, straightening to brush his lips over mine before continuing. “It only hurts for a moment, right? Before you like the ache of it? Don’t tell me I’m wrong. Not when…” He slides a third finger into me, and fucks me with them pointedly for a few seconds, his eyes never leaving mine. “Not when your body is more than willing to tell me how much you love me doing this.”

Closing my eyes hard, I bite off a moan. “I don’t,” I promise, telling myself that he’s just justifying it for his own pleasure. “I don’t like it when you make me bleed.”

“Funny, because that’s my favorite part.” He pauses and reaches up with the hand not currently driving me crazy to sweep my hair back from my face. “Look at me, Summer.”

It takes a moment, but I crack open my eyes to stare at him, though I’m sure I look more like a terrified animal in a trap than anyone remotely enjoying this. “Do you want me to stop?” He says the word pointedly. Reminding me of what I can do tonight, if I want to.

Do you want to skip this? Is what he’s asking. Giving me the chance to use my get out of jail free card.

I open my mouth to say yes. I can’t take him biting me like the first time. Not again. Not when my entire chest and shoulders ache and sting with all the bites he’s lavished against my skin.

But…