Chapter 68: Jarring
As we stumble into the bedroom, Erica throws me onto the bed without a word. Our eyes lock, blazing with an intensity that threatens to consume us both. In that moment, all thoughts of morality and consequence evaporate like mist in the scorching heat of our desire.
My trembling fingers fumble with the buttons of my shirt as Erica practically tears her blood-soaked clothes from her body. The metallic scent of blood fills the air, mingling with the musky aroma of our arousal. Crimson droplets spatter across the pristine white sheets as Erica’s garments fall away, leaving streaks of red.
I drink in the sight of her naked form, marveling at how the blood accentuates every curve and plane of her body. It glistens on her skin like rubies, catching the light as she moves. Her blue eyes burn with primal hunger as she stalks towards me, a predator closing in on her prey.
My breath catches in my throat as Erica straddles me, her warmth enveloping me. I can feel the sticky wetness of the blood on her skin as she presses against me, marking me as hers.
Erica mounts me, her body grinding against mine in a brutal rhythm as if we were dancing. Her pussy squeezes and releases my cock, milking it dry of any resistance. She bites her lip and growls, a mix between pleasure and possession.
The mattress creaks with each thrust, the sound filling the room like a primal drumbeat. Every movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through my veins, erasing any semblance of doubt or fear. The sight of her heaving breasts bouncing hypnotizes me.
Sweat beads on our skin. It drips down her muscular arms and into the crook of her elbows, adding to the mess we’ve created together. Her long blonde hair is wild now, more beast than human, as it cascades around us like a fiery waterfall.
Our tongues tangle in a kiss that’s both violent and tender. She tastes like blood and desire mixed into one potent cocktail. There’s an urgency about her movements that mirrors my own hunger, as if we’ve both been starving for this moment for eternity.
She leans in close enough for me to feel her hot breath against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. “Mine,” she whispers hoarsely before nipping at my flesh gently, making me moan in response.
Our eyes lock, an electric connection that transcends the physical. In that moment, I see the depths of Erica’s devotion reflected in her gaze the fierce protectiveness, the all-consuming need. My breath catches as waves of sensation crash over me.
Erica’s movements grow more frenzied, her hips pistoning against mine with bruising force. Sweat and blood mingle on our skin, creating a slick sheen that glistens in the dim light. The air is thick with the scent of copper and sex.
Suddenly, Erica’s eyes darken, pupils blown wide with lust and something darker. Though her gaze is shadowed, I still see the love burning beneath the surface.
“Did you like that I killed Riley to protect you?” she pants, her voice husky.
The question sends a jolt straight to my cock, making me impossibly harder. Shame and arousal war within me as I struggle to form words.
Erica’s eyes narrow dangerously at my silence. She slams down onto me with punishing force, driving the air from my lungs.
“Answer me!” she snarls, anger edging into her tone. “Did you like it?”
She punctuates each word with a brutal thrust, pushing me to the edge of ecstasy and madness.
I look up at Erica with pleading eyes, silently begging her not to make me say it. The shame and self-loathing churn within me, warring with the undeniable arousal her words have sparked. My body betrays me, my cock twitching inside her at the memory of her blood-soaked form.
Erica’s eyes flash dangerously as she reads the conflict on my face. She slams down onto me with renewed vigor, pussy clenching around me like a vice. The bed creaks ominously beneath us, the headboard slamming against the wall with each punishing thrust.
“Say it,” she growls, her voice low and commanding. Her hands press down on my chest, pinning me to the mattress. Blood-streaked fingernails dig into my flesh, leaving crescent-shaped marks that brand me as hers.
“As long as you’re with me,” she purrs, her voice low and hypnotic, “everything will be alright.”
*****
[Amelia’s POV]
I stand beside Vivian in the cavernous chamber, the flickering candlelight casting long, dancing shadows across the blood-splattered floor. Before us, Riley’s desecrated corpse remains strapped to a nightmarish chair, a morbid centerpiece in this tableau of violence.
Vivian sighed deeply, her eyes fixed on the gruesome scene. “You know, Amelia,” she pauses. “Erica reminds me so much of my own mother sometimes.”
I turn to study her face, noting the complex mix of emotions playing across her features. Pride, nostalgia, and something darker lurking beneath the surface. “You must be proud,” I offer carefully, “to have a daughter so willing to protect your family.”
Vivian’s lips curl into a small, cynical smile. “Oh, indeed,” she murmurs. Her gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the intricate symbols etched into every surface, the hundreds of candles still burning steadily despite the carnage that has unfolded here. “But why go to all this effort? Erica’s never been one for theatrics.”
I clear my throat softly, choosing my words with care. “From what I gathered, Madam, Erica went to great lengths to convince both Jason and Riley that she possessed... supernatural abilities. She seemed particularly intent on Jason believing her to be a witch.”
Vivian’s eyebrows shoot up, her eyes widening in disbelief as if connecting dots. For a moment, the only sound in the chamber is the soft crackling of candle wicks and the distant drip of blood. Then, suddenly, she throws her head back and lets out a burst of laughter that echoes off the stone walls.
“A witch?” Vivian gasps between fits of mirth, wiping a tear from her eye. “I guess that’s what the boy was on about earlier. What a crazy lie for her to tell.”
I nod solemnly, my face a mask of composure despite the absurdity of the situation. “Indeed, Madam. I did try to explain to Miss Erica how unnecessary such elaborate deceptions were. The intricacy of this setup alone...” I gesture to the carefully arranged candles, the meticulously drawn symbols, and the ornate chair that now serves as Riley’s final resting place. “It’s all rather... excessive.”
Vivian’s laughter subsides, replaced by a contemplative sigh. Her eyes roam the chamber, taking in every blood-spattered detail. “Still,” she muses, her voice tinged with a mix of admiration and exasperation, “what an incredible length to go to eliminate someone she deemed a threat. I must admit, her commitment is... impressive.”
Vivian cocks her head curiously, her brow furrowing as she takes in the scene. “What exactly did this girl do to make Erica take such drastic action?” she asks, gesturing towards Riley’s corpse. “Surely it must have been something truly heinous to warrant... all of this.”
I meet Vivian’s gaze, my expression carefully neutral. “I’m not entirely sure, Madam,” I reply evenly. “Miss Erica was adamant that Riley posed a significant threat to the family, though she didn’t share the specifics with me. Whatever it was, she clearly felt it justified these extreme measures.”
Vivian sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just... don’t let her become a serial killer, Amelia,” she says, her voice tinged with equal parts exasperation and resignation. “We have enough to deal with without adding that to the mix.”
I can’t help but let out a small, wry chuckle. “I will certainly try my best, Madam,” I assure her. “But if Miss Erica takes after your mother as much as it appears... well, that may prove to be quite the challenging task.”
Vivian sighs and says, “Just keep me updated.”
I nod and agree, “Of course, Madam. You’ll be informed of any significant developments.”
As Vivian turns to leave, I can’t help but feel a tinge of annoyance at how I am just expected to clean up the body on my own.
“Perhaps if her eyes are intact i can put them in my jar with the other.” I say out loud to no one in particular.