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GRACE
I wake with a start. A warm feeling is spreading through my body, and I groan sleepily. Ivan nuzzles my neck, his panting breath warm against my skin.
I realise his fingers are the cause of my warmth as he pumps them inside me, using his thumb to rub delicious circles over my swollen clit. I’m crying out in pleasure seconds later, and he replaces his fingers with his erection, easing into me while pressing his front to my back.
His fingers dig into the flesh on my hips as he slides in and out. His free hand cups my breast, teasing my nipple as he rolls it between his fingers, occasionally tugging. I realise he’s building up to his own release and I place my hand on his thigh. He pauses, and I take the opportunity to let him slip from me.
I turn to face him, smiling before kissing him with a passion I’ve never shown him before. It takes him by surprise, and I throw my leg over him and push myself to sit up. I rub myself against his large cock, and he groans in pleasure.
I reach between us and line him up at my entrance, slamming down onto him. We both cry out. I begin to ride him, slowly at first and then picking up the pace. He closes his eyes and grits his jaw, and I know he’s lost to me.
Sliding my hand beneath the pillow, I find the cold handle. I grip it, pulling it from its hiding place, all the while fucking him with everything I have.
His hands slide to my waist, and he thrusts up, matching my pace as he desperately seeks his release. I watch his gorgeous face as he strains in pleasure.
“I hate that you’ve forced me to do this,” I whisper, leaning down and pressing my lips to his. His eyes shoot open as he feels the tip of the blade pierce the skin of his waist.
Confusion plays out on his face as I push harder until I feel the blade meet resistance, then I withdraw it, and he groans somewhere deep in the back of his throat. It sounds different to the groans of pleasure I’m used to him making.
“I have no choice,” I whisper, and tears are spill down my cheeks onto his.
I push the knife in a second time, and he winces, taking my face in his hands and fixing his eyes to mine. A slow smile spreads across his face as I twist the knife. He frowns, then coughs, and his hands fall back to his chest.
He finds my wrist and tries to remove the blade, but I stick it in harder. He grunts, his body jerking once as I pull out the knife and drop it onto the bed beside us. I take his clammy face in my hands and kiss his lips gently. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, “but it was the only way to stop you from taking me back to hell.”
His breathing is shallow as he gasps harder. I climb from him and stare down at the wet, blood-soaked sheets.There’s so much blood. My hands shake violently as I wipe them on the sheets before pulling my bag from under the bed and rushing to fill it with my belongings.
My mind is racing with thoughts of the police, or what I’ll do if Alek turns up unexpectedly. I shake my head to clear it as now’s not the time to panic.
I go to the bathroom, all the while crying, and I wash his blood from my thigh and hands. It runs down the drain like a crimson, which only makes me feel sicker inside.
When I go back to the room, Ivan is silent, but his eyes track me as I dress. They’re full of pain, and I wonder what’s going through his mind right now.
Once I have everything I need, I go back to him and listen closely. His breathing is shallow, with more gasps than breaths. I place a gentle kiss on his lips. By the time Alek finds him tomorrow, he’ll have bled out, but to make sure, I take his mobile phone from the bedside and place it on the other side of the room. Pulling the plug on the room phone, I take one last look at him. His eyes are now closed, and he almost looks peaceful.
I pull the sheets over him to hide the blood. “I hate the person you’ve made me into,” I tell him as I place Lara’s diary on his chest. “And despite everything, I love you, Ivan. And I hate that about myself. I’ll take care of our child,” I tell him, placing one last kiss on his lips.
As I pull back, he grabs my wrist, and I cry out in surprise. His eyes shoot open, and he gasps hard. “I love you,” he whispers. “I love you.” And then he releases me, closing his eyes and letting his head fall to one side.
I cry harder, covering my mouth with a shaky hand to muffle the sound. As I back out the room, I pray I make it out before anyone discovers his body.
IVAN
It’s a strange feeling knowing the woman you love wants you dead. It’s even stranger that each time I close my eyes, drifting between life and death, I see Lara’s face. She doesn’t look pleased, and maybe that’s what forces me to open my eyes again.
Grace is moving around the room, panicked and shaking. Does she realise this will haunt her nightmares? She’ll see blood on her perfect skin for months, and she’ll scrub her hands extra hard to remove something that’s invisible, something only we see.
The next time I open my eyes, she’s gone. My beautiful Grace has gone, taking my child with her. The pain of knowing that hurts so much more that the wounds she’s inflicted in my side.
I let my eyes close one last time, smiling at Lara as she comes back into view. She reluctantly holds out her hand, but when I try to take it, I feel nothing. Like we’re worlds apart. And then suddenly, I’m falling. Down, down, down, until my body crashes hard onto the ground. It’s the last thing I feel, and as I succumb to the pain, I take a final rattling breath.
Hell will be my final resting place. And I welcome it.
The End
