Witch (The Devil's Roses #4)

Witch (The Devil's Roses #4) Page 41

He undid the button on her jeans and slid them down over her underwear. He bent to a knee and kissed her naval. He kissed her inner thigh.

"You smell like honey."

She shivered as his tongue traced along her thighs. His fingers brushed against her underwear. She felt faint. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her. She felt a soft bed beneath her and his weight over top of her. His fingers masterfully unhooked her bra. His lips never left hers. His hands moved up her torso sending shivers everywhere. His fingers found her breasts and he began thumbing her nipples. She gasped into the darkness.

He kissed along her neck to her breast. He took her right nipple in his warm mouth and sucked. She cried out. He spilled his free hand over her mouth, "Log houses are notoriously bad for sound proofing."

She ignored him. A fever covered her body. His hand slipped from her mouth and traced a line to her underwear. He slipped his fingers inside of them. She shook her head as he pulled them down.

"I haven’t done this before." She whispered into his cheek, as her face lit on fire. She was embarrassed.

"I won’t hurt you."

She nodded but bit her lip as her panties were stripped from her. She felt rigid.

"Relax Ophelia. I won’t hurt you I promise. You'll like it."

His mouth returned to her nipple. She felt her body relaxing again as he caressed and sucked. She felt herself getting lost in him. His scent was everywhere. His kisses touched everything. His hands rubbed and smoothed away the tension.

He pulled his clothes off and climbed between her legs.

His weight against her made her nervous, like she was trapped. She started to feel tense but he soothed her again. His words floated in her mind, 'Breathe O. Just relax and enjoy.' He sat up between her legs.

She felt his fingers brush against her thigh. Then they trailed up until they were high enough that she clenched her fists.

'This is the best part' His words whispered in the back of her mind.

She felt his thick finger slide inside of her. She inhaled sharply. He rubbed a hand on her belly. She loved the touch of him. His fingers began to slide in and out. She moaned as a fire was lit in her stomach.

He lay back on top of her and suddenly a huge pressure filled her. His mouth was on hers. His tongue was moving swiftly and instantly the pressure was lost in a moment of pain and then pleasure again. She noticed she had bit his lip and was moaning in both pain and pleasure.

He moved slowly inside of her. His hands pulled at her skin, like he couldn’t get enough. She felt her fingers dragging along his back. He thrust harder, crying out.

Heat and sensations she had never experienced before filled her. She had orgasms when she was alone at home but nothing prepared her for the pleasure that built and ripped through her. The heat became unbearable. She felt as if fire licked her skin.

She cried out again and again, lost in the rolling pleasure. She panted, "Harder. Do it harder."

He chuckled into her hair. His body met hers harder and faster. She maintained the high she had reached until he cried out and collapsed on her.

She opened her eyes to see fire surrounding them.

"Shit." She made rain clouds in the ceiling and let a downpour rain all over them.

In the light of the flames he looked unimpressed. She couldn't see his face any longer as the rain washed them away but she assumed he was pissed.

"Sorry."

"Guess we're sleeping in another guest room."

She giggled.

"Stop the rain, the fire is out."

She blew the clouds away and then her eyes burned from the light of the bathroom. She looked at her naked body in the mirror. She gasped, "Oh my god."

Oliver's back was covered in thick angry scars.

He raised an eyebrow as they healed before her eyes in the mirror.

"I did that?"

He picked up her hand and kissed it, "I think we need a padded cell with fire retardant everywhere for the next time we do that."

He walked pulling her into the huge stone walk in shower.

She couldn’t look down. Until the water had washed them both clean.

Chapter Forty-Three

Aimee

The hallway was the same, Ophelia was gone. Dorian had gone to look for her and the others searched the cells they had to find on their own this time, without Blake as a tour guide. Without Giselle and Lydia or Brandon Green they had to kill more than the first time. The Alaskan vampire retreat was also Jonathan's headquarters for his evil deeds.

Aimee hated being there. There, where Alise and Blake had been tortured and made to do things against their will. There, where Ophelia's mom was held as a victim of rape and solitary confinement.

Sam's mom had been left in her cell. Without Sam there to care if she was saved or not Hanna was the only one who had bothered to mention her.

Oliver appeared in the long corridor as they opened the cell knowing they wouldn’t find Abbey but frightened if they didn’t stick to the plan she might be sacrificed.

Aimee looked around at everyone standing in the hall watching Oliver.

Aleks looked at her and whispered, "Your line."

She rolled her eyes, "What could you possibly want from us?"

Oliver tilted his head, "You Aimee."

She walked closer to him, "Fine done. Everyone else walks free."

Oliver flashed to the far side of the hall opposite them, "Walk out the door behind you into the snow. There is a courtyard. Stay there. We will meet you outside." He was gone.

Aimee looked at Ari, "He's awfully theatrical."

Ari stifled a laugh.

Aleks pointed to the door, "Ladies first."

The cold arctic air blasted them. She noted it was miserably cold for July. Aimee scanned the white courtyard for movement.

Luke lowered and growled as Oliver walked toward them. In his hand he had a thin girl. Aimee knew the girl was Abbey.

Her memory flashed of Alise being held there. She pushed the memory away and looked at Abbey. She looked the same as last time. Her body was again covered in sores. Aimee assumed they were bite marks. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, like bed head. Her jeans were ripped and torn and her light blue t-shirt was bloody.

Another man walked out into the courtyard with Oliver. It was Jonathan. The memory of the fire hitting her in the stomach crept into her mind. Ari put a hand on her, "It's okay."

Aimee nodded.

Jonathan smiled and held his hands out, "Roses. It's wonderful to meet you all. Sorry for being such a poor host. I'm sure you understand the time constraints placed upon me, what with Ophelia and Tristan turning eighteen and all."

Aimee stepped forward, the world fuzzed as she spoke the same words as last time, "Look you want me to stay. I want them all to go free. Cut the shit and niceties."

He chuckled, "Aimee I like your style." She cringed waiting for the gunshot.

He pulled his hands from behind his back, "You remind me of Lorri, before she became old and stodgy Lorri. She used to be fun and carefree."

His dark eyes flashed at her, "Now I'll give you this thing here if you'll stay as my guest obviously."

Aleks's hand shot up and gripped her shoulder.

She nodded, "Deal. Everyone walks."

He shook his head, "Hanna you are naughty thing I'd bet. Marcus can't be nearly as fun as I am in the sack. He's a cursed Vampire. I'm a born. I have talents he doesn’t have."

Hanna looked at Aimee and smiled, "If you want me to stay then Aimee and O go home."

He laughed again. He looked at Oliver and laughed.

Aimee hated the smug look on his face.

She glanced at Aleks, whose grip was almost ripping her shoulder off, "I got this."

He shook his head, never taking his eyes from Jonathan, "I just got you back."

She felt her heart break. She nodded, looking into his crystal blue eyes, "I'm yours and nothing he does can change that." She took a step toward Oliver. Oliver released the thin frightened Abbey. She looked confused as she stumbled forward rubbing her sore covered wrists, Abbey looked around, "Where is my sister?"

Aimee smiled at the frightened girl, "She's waiting for you." Aimee whispered. She looked back at Aleks. He nodded. His jaw was clenched. He looked pissed.

Aimee felt Oliver's fingers close around her wrist and then she felt him flash her.

She smelled decay and mildew. She looked around at the dark cell. It reminded her of Marcus's dungeon. He was such a weirdo.

"This is your new home."

She laughed, "Till I flash out."

She looked behind her at the tears pouring from Ophelia's wide eyes. Her dark eye was creepy black against her light eye. Aimee's hands were secured to the wall in a fabric. She tried to flash out of it. Fear slammed against her.

Ophelia's mouth was gagged with the fabric.

Aimee looked at Oliver in horror as a huge man came to stand next to him. His massive fist came at her face fast. Her head was slammed into the rock wall behind her.

Oliver smiled and walked to Ophelia. He stroked her cheek.

Aimee tried to focus her eyes but the fist slammed into her face again. It hurt more than anything she had ever felt. The fiery gunshot was nothing compared to the pain she was in. She was sure her head was bleeding in the back.

Ophelia's muffled cries filled the room.

Blackness took her eyesight, as a dark and creepy laugh filled her mind.

"The fabric is made from Lillith's hair. It interrupts power, if you imagine anything so bizarre."

Aimee smiled as the fist slammed into her face again, "When I kill you I will rip your soul from your eyeballs."

Epilogue

Ophelia felt sick still from watching the dark blood pour from the cuts on Aimee's face.

The quiet of the darkness inside of the cell was frightening. She felt dirty and afraid. Oliver had conned her. She had given him everything.

She wriggled her lips enough to get the fabric from them, "Aimes." She looked around the darkness.

"Aimes."

She whispered a little louder, "Aimee."