Page 60 of Shattered Souls

“Hayze!” Rayvn yelps as I nip on her shoulder. She’s trying desperately to wash the sweat and excitement from the night off of her skin in the shower, but I can’t focus on anything other than the dip of her waist, and the swell of her breasts.

I spin her, pining her back to the cold tiled wall. She gasps, and I capture the sound between my lips. She molds to my body, her hand splaying across the dips in my abdomen. One hand finds the back of her neck, while the other cups her full breast, twisting the hardened nipple between my fingers.

She moans into my mouth, arching into my flesh at the touch. Fuck, she’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I can’t let her go. There’s no way she’s leaving me—us.

I part her lips with my tongue and she meets me with every beat. I slip my tongue into her mouth, the taste of the sugary soda she had earlier still encasing her. Her hand slides down, rubbing against my hard length as I devour her mouth.

She breaks off, eyes meeting mine, and lifts her hands between us. “Fuck me, Hayze.”

I smile at her, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I lean down and lift her by the bends of her legs, her arms wrapping around my neck. I walk us towards my bed, still dripping wet, while she places lazy kisses and nips to my neck.

I lay her down on the bed, never taking my hands off of her, and admire my woman. My right hand is holding the small of her waist, thumb caressing the tattoo that’s still healing.

A machete and a meat hook.

She never complained about the design. In fact, her eyes lit up at the sick and twisted nod to her two crazy men. Now, she’s watching me with heavy eyes as I admire the symbol on her skin.

“I want more.” She admits, breaking the silence. “I want your masks.” My cock jerks at that, and she giggles at the physical response.

“I’ll tattoo anything you want, little scarecrow.” She reaches one hand between us and leads the head of my cock to her entrance. Gingerly, she places both legs over my shoulders, eyes never leaving mine, and fuses herself to me.

“Fuck,” A whimper. With my hands on the bend of her hips, I work in and out of her, drawing out and sliding back in slowly. Her head lulls to the side as small moans slip free.

I ram into her, catching her off guard. Her back arches off the bed, hand coming to her clit as she rubs circles on the swollen nub. “Yes, right there.” I fuck her like it might be my last. One hand holds her in place while the other roams her heated skin.

Her smooth thighs, the small birthmark on the inside of her left knee, the hollow of her stomach, her hardened peaks, all of it. It’s mine. And it’s perfect.

She crashes over the edge, thighs clamping shut and head throwing back as she cries out for me, and a God that won’t reach her in the house of the devils. Mine finds me shortly after and I fill her with every ounce of my seed.

Slipping out of her, I lay down next to her and open my arms for her. With heavy limbs, she turns over and nuzzles up to my chest. Her fingers venture over my skin, and the various tattoos I’ve done on myself. She traces the lines of the Medusa on my hip. The thing took me forever to get just right, and hurt like hell right over the bone.

“Why Medusa?” She doesn’t look at me, so I don’t answer. “I always wanted one. I wanted to get an ouroboros.”

“Why?” I spell just in her view.

“The process of creation and destruction.” She traces the tattoo as she talks, a small sniffle accompanies the words. “Life is a cycle. You can kill something, but another will be born in its place. I’ve found myself restarting too many times to count.” That’s all she offers.

Her voice echoes in my mind as her breathing evens out and her hand lays forgotten on my stomach. I understand the cycle.

I’ve been stuck in my own cycle for years. Trying to better myself, for the sake of Synn, but falling right back into the same mess I’m in now. I was never good at fitting in, especially after I stopped talking, but I’ve always wanted to try and help.

When I got the job as a butcher, I was sure my life was making a 180. All it did was fuel my craving for blood—and teach me how to properly butcher a body for the acid.

But now, maybe she can be the start to a real change. We can get her far away from here, somewhere she can venture out without looking over her shoulder for the cops, or us. Though I want her to stay—I don’t want to force her, she said it herself.

20

Rayvn

“Slow down!” I kick my feet at Hayze as he talks to me in sign language with movements like a jet. He slows, just barely.

“Did you like the ending of the book?” He points to the discarded book on the TV stand, When monsters fell in love. I read it in one sitting. I mean there’s not much else to do when the men made it clear they were going out tonight alone.

“Eh,” I recline on the arm of the couch. “It was a tad predictable. No?”

“Depends on how you read it.” He’s signing slower for me now. “Yes, they die in the end, but they’ve made the ultimate sacrifice.”

“Killing themselves so the world is better is stupid. Now the women are alone. I mean, Sheri was devastated.” The book followed a few different monsters. They each got to experience love in their own ways, some harsher than others, but all full of love nonetheless. In the end, they had to choose between peace for humanity or their women. They chose humanity.