AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s your favorite toy.” He paused, waiting for me to guess, but when I didn’t, he continued, "Let's see if you can figure it out. In the meantime, I need you to answer me honestly. The picture on the cards is meaningless. What did it mean to you, as Mama Bondo began to talk about it."
“I don’t know.”
“You do.” Another whack on my hands then up the insides of my arms.
Pain spread across my hands and inner arms, but heat blossomed through my chest and belly. The pain seized my thoughts, shoving all of them down except for one that blasted through me.
The one I'd pushed down for so long, now resurfaced.
But I... I couldn't.
The thoughts, the words, on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't force them outward.
I shook my head, the back of my eyes burning, my fingers on my thighs trembling now. "I.. I can't."
"You can't?" he was soft now, his fingers soothing over where he'd hit me, the touch gentle. His lips pressed to my jawline, skittering up it with his kisses. Then he wrapped fingers around my neck, gently guiding me onto my back. "I think you can, Summer. You just don't want to. Now, spread your legs.”
Slap! Pain. Heat. Buzzing. Darkness filled with lust.
“The first thing you thought of when you saw the moon.” He smacked me again and again, edging up my thighs and towards the vee of my legs.
A haziness filled me—a dreamy sensation that washed over me. The cool breeze from the open window mixed with the salty aroma of the marsh. Blending with the scent of sage and sandalwood.
The edging all day long, Rook’s whispered confessions…I’m obsessed with you…guilt from Kuru’s reading.
“Oh, god, Rook.” With each smack, I rose higher and higher. I shifted my hips, needing more…needing the smack in… in just that right spot.
“Open yourself to me, Summer.” His voice, not a request, but a demand. “It’s the only way to take control.”
“I can’t…” I couldn't.
I didn't want to think about the moon.
“Admitting the truth releases its power over you.” Another smack. “Don’t you want that?”
My thighs were burning….
“Tell me!” He demanded, this smack harder than the rest.
“I—I think I killed my mom." The admission hung in the air, like a weight against my chest. The words were so bitter, like acid on my tongue.
I'd never admitted that out loud before.
Rook stopped.
He didn't say anything--didn't act surprised or disappointed. He was silent, letting it hang in the air between us. Letting me feel the force of it— the power of saying it out loud.
Suddenly, my chest was tight and there was no air. I couldn’t breathe. I pulled in a choking breath and then another, and another, trying to gain control over my body.
“I killed my mom. I killed my mom. I killed her."
Oh, god. I’d killed her.
“Good girl,” He cooed, surprising me, his fingers tracing softly up my thighs now. Soothing over the pain. “Now, start from the beginning. Tell me what happened that night.”
"The flame…” I started, feeling like I was in a hazy dream, “We'd crashed into the tree and my mom. She was so still. Her head was hanging over the steering wheel. And there was...there was glass shattered all over the place. Large, cutting glass. And her head. It was bleeding.”
“Good,” his lips followed his fingers, peppering soft kisses. Then his tongue laving my skin, laving, traveling higher, higher up my inner thighs. “Keep going,” he encouraged when I’d stuttered to a stop.
