Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
It makes me so happy, I could weep. I am weeping. I am undone.
“You’re doing so well for me,” he praises me between whip cracks. “You take what I give you so beautifully. You are perfect when you’re falling apart.”
I’m addicted to these sweet nothings earned with sweat and pain. Rex leans close, and he’s breathing hard, too. He’s working hard to bring me to that place of ecstasy, and I love him for it.
“I bet you could come like this.” He runs a hand down my back, re-igniting the fiery sensation. “From just the touch of my whip.”
I moan. I want that.
“Do you want me to do it? Do you want me to whip your clit until you come?”
I have a flash of terror. Not fear that he will hurt me, but fear that he will and I’ll let him down.
“I don’t know. What if I can’t.”
“You will. I won’t let you fail.”
No, he won’t. He will never let me fail or fall.
I weep then because I’m so happy. I was so afraid, but he took that fear, consumed it, and turned it into something else. There’s no more danger. Only ecstasy.
I tug on my bindings just to make sure they’re there. When I’m sure I’m held fast, I lean into the cross and smile. “Please.”
“I’ll give it to you. . . on one condition. You don’t ever leave me again.”
I shake my head frantically.
“You’ll be with me forever. Whether or not you wear my collar, you’re mine.”
“Yes.” I’m sobbing. “Yes.”
“Okay, little bird. I’ll give you what you need.”
The whip crashes down, sparking an explosion inside me. A white hot, searing pain. And then I fly like a bird, traveling safely home.
23
Faded photographs, peeling from the moldy walls. Feathers crushing underfoot. BK’s scarred face, telling me, “It’s over,” before the flames engulf us all—
* * *
I wake disoriented, my instincts screaming at me. Something’s wrong, something’s wrong!
I’m in our dark bedroom. The pillow is soft under my cheek, but Rex’s side of the bed is empty. I grope the rumpled covers. They’re still warm, but Rex is gone.
I have a vague memory of him cutting the ropes and letting me down from the cross. It’s okay. You did so well. Just be with me. He must have cleaned me up and carried me to the bedroom. I was too deliciously limp to do anything but allow it.
A few hours later, I remember him rising and waking me. He kissed my head and told me to go back to sleep. I was still drunk from orgasms and pain.
I make a move to get up, and my muscles start screaming, too. My sex is raw, and my abdominal muscles ache. Forced orgasms hurt.
Muscles I didn’t know existed cry out. They’re overextended from me clenching so hard and so often for so long.
I push through the pain and rise. I want Rex. He should be here. It feels wrong that he’s not. He wouldn’t leave me unless it was important.
“Alfie,” I say. “Where’s Rex?”
I expect it to say the cave lab or his office, but it tells me, “En route to New Rome.”
“What?” There’s a fog in my head, and I’m fighting it to clear it and make sense of what Alfie is telling me.
“There was a report from the morgue. The body of Emily Rodriguez went missing. Mr. Roy went to investigate.”
Emily Rodriguez was the last Blackbird victim. How does a morgue misplace a body? Between this unsettling news and my dream, I’m officially freaked out.
“Call Rex.”
“Calling.”
While Alife’s trying to reach Rex, I scramble out of bed. There’s a shock of pain, like jumping into cold water, but the more I move, the easier it gets. I push through the stiffness and throw on some clothes. I’m still chilly, so I find Rex’s bathrobe and drape it around me. The weight grounds me into the room, allowing me to shake off the lingering ick of the dream. The robe even smells like Rex. I press my face into the plush lapel and inhale.
“No answer,” Alfie reports, and my nerves start to jangle. I’m awake now.
“Is that typical?”
“No. Mr. Roy has orders to put your calls through no matter what. Re-dialing now.”
I can’t just sit here while Alfie rings Rex. “Is Hamish awake?”
Ten minutes later, I’m in Rex’s office, watching Hamish commandeer the console behind Rex’s desk to check on his whereabouts. The Scotsman looks a bit rumpled in a tartan dressing gown, but he’s wide awake.
“He didn’t want to wake you,” Hamish explains. “He thought he’d be back before dawn.”
This is exactly what I did when Ted called me on Burgess’s number. Now I’m the one left behind, and I hate it.
I’m chewing my lip. “I have a bad feeling.”
Hamish nods as he types. His focus on the computer screen reminds me of Mina. “I’ve contacted Rex’s network. Including his more. . . nocturnal acquaintances.”