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Malachi says.
Edging forwards, I start travelling the steps, both of my hands dragging along the crumbling bricks to keep me steady, Do rabbit holes go round in circles? I don’t think so. I think they go straight down and then along. Different tunnels. Which way?
I look up and realise I’m in the castle again, corridors and halls leading in all directions.
“Enough now,” the voice says.
I’m upside down, hands pointing at the floor. I laugh and look down at the reds and golds drifting by underneath me. Pretty. They’re muddling, creating patterns and swirling visons. Not like outside with its whites and blues. Richer in here. Shadier. Deeper. My stomach hurts. Why does it hurt? I try to move to get comfortable, try rubbing at it, but there’s something hard digging in.
Painful.
Something inside me wants to run. Run and never look back. But it’s all so calm here. Relaxed and sensual. Pain can be sensual. That’s what Malachi said. He said we’d play the game, make it painful so Gray would come and watch – join in maybe.
Where is Gray?
I watch the gold chain dangling from my wrist down to the floor. It’s swinging loosely, bouncing on the carpets. Not attached. Not attached to anything. I don't want that. I want him attached to me in this rabbit hole. We’ll run together, chase the boundaries and play as if the world outside of here doesn’t exist.
Rick.
Dead.
Something’s on my cheek. Wet. I lift my hand and wipe it away, swiping a second time to get it off me. It’s itchy, slimy. I don’t know what it is. Get it off me. Off. I don’t want it. I struggle, trying to get both hands there and end up gouging at my eyes in the hope that the sensation stops.
“Hannah, calm down.”
Calm. Yes. No. I can’t. Too much.
I flex my stomach, trying to get rid of the pain in my ribs and the feel of wet. Ants on my skin. They’re there and crawling all over my face, under my skin. Little legs creeping and crawling and getting inside me. I swipe again. I swipe and swipe until the swiping turns into scratching and pulling at my hair. They’re everywhere. All over me. In my veins. Must get them out. Help. Help me.
A sudden hard yank on my hair makes me howl in pain. I’m falling. Tumbling.
And then lips.
I gasp at the feel of them on my own, my body perfectly still as they glide over me. Tender. Soft. And then harder, ferocious even. No ants anymore. Just these lips and a tongue. I sigh and relax into them, my hands reaching for the face attached. Warm skin and firm bones. Scratchy. Not cold. No ants and no cold anymore.
My legs get moved, hoisted around a waist. I cling on, hitching my hips onto them and letting myself fall deeper into the kiss. Arms binding, wet kisses. It’s so quiet now. Safe and calm. Someone’s holding me in his lap. Large hands on my skin, both of them wandering lazily over my thighs and pulling me closer. Yes. Close. I wrap my arms around the neck and deepen the kiss, letting my pussy gain traction on the rigid cock behind trousers.Malachi says.It’s not Malachi, though. I remember those lips. They were cold. These are full of heat and density.
The kiss stops eventually and he pulls back to look at me. He’s blurred at first, but then the vison sharpens in front of me. Cruel eyes. Eyes I know.
“You said you couldn’t.” No answer. Nothing but eyes that almost glare at me. He just stares and grips onto my ass, shifting me further forward into him.
“Make yourself come on me,” he says, throatily.
Throats. Blowjobs.
I giggle and rub myself on his cock, pushing hard against the feel of it, as I run my fingers through his hair. Wouldn’t, couldn’t? What does it matter? My head tips back, gaze looking at the ceiling as I keep rubbing against him. Anything can happen here in this place filled with rabbit holes and games. And it feels so good here, especially with him beneath me and his stiff cock rubbing at me.
His hand grabs the back of my neck harshly, suddenly, focusing my eyes back to his. Yes. Two of us together. I felt that in that other room with that other man, could feel Gray even though that other man fucked me and a screen was between us. And then earlier with Malachi and the thing hitting me. And now he’s here, his nails digging into the back of my neck and causing pain. It hurts, but the feel of him pushing his cock against me harder, one hand holding me down on him, is consuming everything but him.
Everything else disappears around me. All thought, all decoration and furniture. Just me and him. And then his hand crawls around my face to hold my chin firmly.
“I want you,” he snarls, manhandling me. “Focus and fuck me.” He slaps the side of my face. Gently at first, and then harder. I frown as it builds in ferocity, each slap tougher than the last, and I keep staring into his eyes. The pulse inside me rushes against my skin, building a rhythm that lands in time to the slaps.
Tap tap, tap, tap, tap.
So focused. In tune with this pain. “Make me want you more, Hannah.”
I’m hitched again, held so tightly and pushed and pulled into position as if I’m nothing but a rag doll in his grasp. Maybe I am. And oh god, the sensations. Harsh and soft. Hard and heavenly. I can feel the orgasm coming, chasing over me, all around me, as I keep grinding and creating speed. Rhythm. So much rhythm and pace. More speed. Just there and then I’ll come.
