His eyes scan mine for a moment before he gives a small nod, slowly releasing me. As I stay leaning against the carousel,I observe him turn his back to me, wandering around between two horses. “You know this shit is haunted, don't you?” he states calmly.
I roll my eyes, “There's no such thing as ghosts, Hell.”
He stops and side-eyes me, “I wouldn't be so sure about that, Dolly.” As I stay silent, he walks around a little more. “This carousel has been around for over a century. It's been through wars, it's been through fires, people have died on this fucking thing in brutal ways. Many years ago, they used to tie people to it as it rotated and left them there to rot until their last breath,” he explains, and my eyes widen.
He turns to look at me and offers me his hand. I push myself away from the wood and take cautious steps forward, sliding my hand into his. He yanks me toward him, my front crashing into his, and he grabs my waist, lifting me onto one of the horses.
He mounts the back behind me, and I side-eye him as I wrap my hands around the pole. When he is comfortable, he moves his warm hands up my thighs, sending shivers through me, then cloaks my midsection with his strong arms. I melt against him, feeling safe, my head resting back against his chest, and he turns his head to look down at me.
“They closed it around ten years ago because strange shit started to happen,” he continues.
I smirk, “Strange shit? Like what?” I query, not believing a word of it.
“People reported seeing figures moving around, hearing whispers that weren't there. Some even said they felt cold fingers touching them when no one else was around. Kids were fucking pushed off the horses, bones broken. And then there were the vanishes. A few workers went missing, never to be seen again.The last straw was when a child disappeared while riding this carousel. After that, they shut it down for good.”
I inhale deeply wrapping my arms around his, “That sounds like just typical ghost stories to me, Hell.”
He gently runs his nose up my ear before responding into it, “There’s always some fucking truth behind all stories, Little Dolly.”
“That’s true, but nothing is as terrifying as actual reality,” I confess, my voice barely a whisper. He stills, the weight of my words hanging in the air between us.
After a moment of silence, he finally speaks again. “What’s on your mind, pretty girl?”
The ache to reveal everything to him hurts me, and I ponder opening up to him just a little bit. “My sister,” I whisper, my eyes threatening to water. “I’m finding it hard being here. I can’t settle because I know I need to find her.”
“Well, where is she?” he asks, and I shrug my shoulders with a sniffle. “I don’t know.”
I can sense his confusion. “Do you want me to find her?”
My brows knit, and I turn my head until our eyes meet. As my gaze wanders over his painted face, I worry that any information I give him might lead him to Kyro.
“How could you do that when I don’t even know where she is?” I lie. I could be sending him on a hunt for someone who is still in that vile man’s hands, but I am almost tempted to let him because I am so fucking desperate.
“All I need is a name, Dolly.” His warm breath kisses my lips as the words escape him.
“Arabella,” I say without thinking straight, but he gives a simple nod. “Anything else?”
Unfortunately, there isn’t anything else. I don’t even know if she has the same last name as me. I don’t know where she is from. Changing my mind and shutting down, I give a small headshake. “There isn’t. Just don’t worry about it, Hell. I’m sure I will find her one day,” I say while looking away. “Or maybe I have to accept I have lost her forever.”
“I’ll do what I can for you, Noir,” he promises, and I smile softly.
“You lost someone close to you recently, right?”
When I feel his body tighten behind me, I warily turn my head until I am looking up at him again, and his eyes flash to mine.
“What happened?” I ask.
He inhales before responding, “He was killed.”
As he faces aside, I can tell it’s something that still bothers him, a wound that hasn’t healed.
“Did you find who did it?” I question, and he shakes his head, his eyes not meeting mine. “No.”
I can only imagine how it eats away at him, not getting revenge on someone who took something from him. Hell likes control. He likes answers. He is so straightforward and doesn’t pretend to be something he isn’t that he probably expects the same in return. Mixing his cousin’s murder with him knowing I am holding secrets; I can only imagine it’s driving him insane, and I feel so guilty for it.
If I don’t leave this place, and I choose to stay with him, I can only hope that one day, I will find the confidence to open up to him. I lift my hand, bringing it to his cheek, turning him to face me. As I glance at his lips, he dips down, crashing them against mine. His hand finds my throat as he devours my mouth, making my feelings for him grow stronger with each stroke of histongue. He tastes like sin, a toxic pleasure that I can’t resist. He is a drug, potent and addictive. I can’t get e-fucking-nough.
When his other hand trails down the front of my body, I moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his feral kiss. As soon as he reaches my jeans, he flicks open the button, dragging down the zipper. Without hesitation, he slides his big, warm hand down into my panties. My stomach somersaults from the sensation as his fingers press firmly between my pussy lips, rubbing from my entrance up to my clit repeatedly and roughly. His fingers are so fucking skilled, knowing exactly how to drive me wild.
