Hunting Adeline (Cat and Mouse Duet Book 2)
Hunting Adeline: Part 2 – Chapter 35

Usually, when I finish murdering someone, I feel all the tension release from my body. It can be an aphrodisiac sometimes. It’s so rare not to be strung tight that when my muscles are loose and languid, it’s fucking orgasmic. Another reason why I’m addicted to Addie and all the ways I melt beneath her fingertips.

But this time, I’m just fucking annoyed. Sibby did what she always does and took shit a step too far. She decided it would be fun to play fucking frisbee with body parts or some shit, so we spent an hour alone trying to locate every piece of Francesca so we could bury them.

By the time I picked up all ten of her fingers, I didn’t fucking care anymore. Didn’t help that Sibby decided to have an imaginary orgy directly after, forcing Addie and I to leave until she finished. Literally.

And of course, during the two hours it took to dig and bury the bodies, she felt inclined to tell me every sordid detail of what her henchmen did to her. Or rather, what she did to herself.

I let her talk and tuned out the parts I didn’t care to hear. Sibby’s never had real friends before, and despite how badly I don’t want to hear how she got railed up the ass, I refuse to set an example of friendship by silencing her.

Sighing, I tiredly make my way up the steps, my movements heavy and lethargic. I’m covered in dirt and blood, and probably a few other things I don’t care to know.

When I trudge into Addie’s bedroom, I replace steam spilling from the depths of her bathroom. I roll my head back, immediately overcome with images of her standing beneath the shower head, water sluicing down her naked curves. My cock hardens instantly, the tension in my muscles bracketing my muscles into stone.

Pushing the door open gently, I’m surprised to see her standing in front of the vanity mirror, eyes tracing her bare skin. There’s a frown pulling down her lips, and she stares at her reflection with a mixture of abhorrence and curiosity.

She tenses, hearing my intrusion, yet she doesn’t take her eyes off of herself. She’s completely naked, and the sight nearly sends me to my knees.

Both in worship and sorrow.

Two long, jagged scars slice across her back. The sight of them makes me viscerally angry, and it reignites my desire to kill the man who caused them. I vividly remember watching Dr. Garrison stitch those wounds through the camera footage.

Learning to accept my own scars was a process, and one I faced alone. But Addie will never face anything alone again. Soon, I’ll trace my tongue across each one and show her that she’s still beautiful with or without them.

Scars only serve as reminders of what we’ve survived, not what killed us.

Blood and dirt coat her pale skin, flaking from her body and onto the heated rock floor. She runs her hand across her flat stomach, drawing my eyes to her fingers. Slowly, I move closer until what she’s doing becomes clearer. Like plucking a string on a guitar, her nails claw at a tiny white scar.

“I had hoped these would fade,” she murmurs, keeping her voice low in an attempt to hide the wobble. “They’re more tragic when it’s another carving sorrowful memories into your skin.”

She flicks her gaze to me. “I hate them.”

I grit my teeth, fury building in my chest. I would’ve loved to have killed Xavier myself. Take my time with him as I did with Max. But it wasn’t my revenge to take. Though the satisfaction of getting her off before him is something I’ll cherish.

“Every time I look at them, I think of him,” she continues in a hushed tone. “I don’t want to look at my body and see anyone else but me and you.”

I stay silent and pull my hoodie and t-shirt over my head in one go. She doesn’t even glance my way, too lost in the memories that gave her those scars.

“Do they still hurt, baby?” I ask, unfastening my belt and jeans before removing those, too.

By the time she answers, I’ve completely undressed.

“Sometimes,” she whispers. “Sometimes they burn. As if the blade never stopped cutting through my skin.”

I hum in response, the anger continuing to rise in my chest. Just like water boiling in a pot, it’ll bubble over until everything I touch burns with me.

“Sometimes,” she starts again, her voice raspy. “I wonder how you could still possibly want me.”

I meet her stare through the mirror as I approach her from behind. That plump bottom lip replaces its way between her teeth, and fear flashes in her caramel eyes.

It reminds me of those moments when I was a stranger, and she was an obsession I only knew from afar. So many times, that same look crossed her eyes. When she saw my roses or when I stood outside her window. Even more so when she was wriggling beneath my hands, arching into my touch while begging me to go.

It satisfied the dark part inside me reserved only for the woman standing in front of a mirror, wondering how strong she really is.

I craved her beyond good intentions, morals, and doing what’s right. I wanted her so badly, I threw away those things to make her mine.

And if she thinks a dark mind and scars marring her flesh would deter me, she still doesn’t grasp how deeply I long for her.

I press into her back, the heat of our bodies transferring into one another. She feels like a slice of heaven I’ll never have the honor of seeing, but I’ve always preferred to replace paradise in the depths of Addie’s body.

My hand slides up the column of her throat, encouraging her to tip her head back against my shoulder, mouth parted.

“I’ve followed you through lifetimes, Adeline. My soul needs you so badly that I’ve become a shadow, destined to hunt you for eternity.”

Her eyes flutter, and a little moan slips free, nearly writhing from the promise of haunting her soul.

She was fucking made for me.

“If you think scars are going to turn me away, then you haven’t seen just how cruel I can be,” I rasp.

Her breath hitches, and those caramel orbs round, flashing with trepidation as they focus on me. Her pulse thrums wildly beneath my hand, and I want to sink my fucking teeth into it so I can taste how much I scare her.

I snarl, letting the blackness in my soul bleed out and pour onto her skin, staining any innocence she had left. Those men took that from me, and I’ll be damned if I let them have any more of her.

With my free hand, I knock away hers and trace the scar she was picking at, earning a little gasp from her throat.

“These will become mine, too. I will put a blade to every single one and claim them as my own. The only thing you’ll see when you look at them is me,” I growl, my hand flexing around her throat.

“You wouldn’t,” she breathes, challenge sparking in her irises.

I grin wickedly, delighting in the sight of her fear deepening. Just as her nipples tighten, and her arousal permeates the steamy air.

“That’s it,” I whisper, right before I tighten my hold until her air supply cuts off. “Fear me, little mouse. Not the sick fucks who have no right over any part of you.”

Then, my other fist flies out, cracking the mirror. She flinches in my grasp, her nails scoring into my flesh as I pick a piece of glass out and present it to her.

Relaxing my grip, she greedily sucks in oxygen while keeping her eyes pinned to the shard of glass. She’s trembling, and I roll my hips into her pert ass, groaning when she only shakes harder.

“Point me to the first one,” I order.

I’m giving her a choice. I may be scaring her blind, but she knows how to get out of my hold. She knows how to turn the weapon on me instead.

She knows how to fucking fight me.

Sucking in an uneven breath, she points her finger to her stomach.

Deliberately, I move my hand to the spot, watching her closely through the broken mirror. Her gaze is locked on the glass, inhaling sharply when I press it into her skin, directly over the scar.

I pause, giving her one last chance to back down, but she turns her lips to my neck, her hot breath fanning across my skin.

So, I press the shard into her old scar, snarling when she opens her mouth and clamps her teeth onto my throat, biting down without restraint.

It’s over as soon as it began, and she releases me instantly, chest heaving. It’s not deep—just enough to draw blood.

Blackness licks at the edges of my vision as I succumb to the beast inside me.

“Next one.” I hardly recognize my own voice, but it’s one she trusts because she peeks through the mirror and points to another on her hip.

Again, I slice while she bites. Over and over until her front side is covered in cuts, and she’s shaking. Then, I spin her around and lift her on the sink, cradling her to my chest while I slice over scars on her back until she’s stained with blood, and my neck and shoulders are imprinted with bite marks.

We’re both breathing heavily, brimming with lust, agony, and a restlessness that puts us both on edge.

She’s trembling beneath my hands, and her eyes are like glazed caramel apples, high off the endorphins rushing through her system. I drop the glass, rubbing each thumb over a wound, intoxicated by the sharp hiss from between her teeth.

“Does anything about the way I love you feel tragic?” I ask, brushing my lips across her jaw.

“Yes,” she whimpers. “But only because one day it will end.”

A growl rips from my throat, and I fist her hair, tipping her head back and forcing her to see the truth.

“You and I will never end, little mouse. Even when we’re six feet under, and our bones are dust, I will haunt your soul until it aches to be free of me. And then, I will hold you tighter.”

Her lip trembles, fighting against my grip on her hair in order to press herself against me, her hardened nipples brushing against my chest.

“I don’t ever want to be free of you, Zade. Not in this lifetime, and not in all the ones that come after.”

She grabs either side of my face and crushes her lips onto mine, her nails scraping against the stubble on my cheeks.

She holds on to me like she’s falling, but I have no interest in catching her. I will always fall with her, chasing after her even in death.

Her legs lock around my hips, so I pick her up, my hands sliding against her slick skin, and carry her to the clawfoot tub. She pulls away just an inch, her teeth chattering and drawing out a grin from me. She’s grinding her pussy against my length, slipping and sliding from how fucking soaked she is.

Carefully, I step into the tub and lower us in it, crimson dyeing the porcelain with smeared fingerprints and fresh droplets.

Baring my teeth, I groan when she undulates against my cock, threatening to tear my sanity out of my head like a monster does a heart in a cheesy horror film.

Before I completely lose it, I reach forward and grab the handheld shower head that rests by the faucet. Then, I turn the hot water on full blast, playing with the temperature until it’s comfortable.

“Zade,” she pleads, lost in delirium. Addie was only ever shown pain with a knife, and now she’s experiencing just how cataclysmic it can be when done right.

From now on, the only knife she’ll ever fall prey to is mine, and she’ll fucking beg me for it.

I switch the water to the shower head, before leaning back and spraying it over her body. She hisses, tipping her head back and continuing to move her hips in slow movements.

Her husky moans fill the space, bouncing off stone and porcelain, and sticking to me like hot wax. Red-tinted blood streams over her curves before swirling down the drain.

I turn the water to myself next and rid myself of the blood and grime from today’s activity. By the time I finish, I replace her staring down at me, a heat in her eyes that robs me of breath.

“Look at your new scars,” I demand sharply. It takes a few beats before she drags her gaze from mine and down to her body. The wounds are still bleeding, the hot water not allowing the blood to clot. “What do you see?”

Sliding a hand across that same scar on her stomach, she exhales shakily. “You.”

I lean up, curling my finger beneath her chin and raising her eyes back to mine. “Someday soon, little mouse, you will not be able to see anything else. I will be the only villain in your story, and the only one who has the power to make you scream.”

The moment the last word leaves my tongue, I turn the shower head towards her pussy, the powerful spray directly on her clit.

She jolts, a gasp quickly transforming into a cry. Her hands grasp either side of the tub, and once more, her head falls back. But this time, she screams, just as I said she would.

“That’s it, baby. You’re so fucking beautiful when you cry for me,” I bite out, gritting my teeth as she uncontrollably bucks against me. I lean up and curl an arm around her waist, pleasure building in the base of my spine too quickly. I lift her off of me just an inch, but she hardly notices.

“Oh my God, Zade,” she cries. I capture her nipple in my mouth, swirling my tongue over the peak before biting down. Her moans grow sharper, and her claws score across my shoulders.

Blood continues to stream from her wounds, painting her body in red. An angel of death is what she is, kneeling above me with blood on her hands that will never wash away.

She’s absolute perfection, and I will never get tired of showing her just how much I fucking worship her.

“I’m going to—” I move the shower head away, and this time when she screams, it’s from frustration. Her nails bite into my skin, creating angry crescent moons. I grit my teeth, the pain morphing into intense pleasure.

“How do you get what you want, Adeline?” I snap. “Pray to God, and only then will I let you come all over my cock.”

“Please, Zade, please,” she begs desperately. Breathlessly.

I shake my head, denying her. “Please, what, baby? I can’t answer your prayers if I don’t know what they are.”

“Let me come,” she breathes. “Please, let me come.”

“Such a good girl,” I murmur, moving the spray back to her clit. Her eyes roll, and within moments, she’s collapsing against me, grinding on my cock, and exploding all over me while I continue to batter her clit with the spray. She chants my name like it’s a Hail Mary, and the only way she’ll be forgiven.

She pushes my hand away when it becomes too much, relieving herself of the water. I lean forward and tap the lever, so it switches back to the faucet. Dropping the shower head, I sit back again, not bothering to plug the drain.

She’s panting still, the aftershocks rolling through her and causing her to twitch over me like a malfunctioning robot.

Her pussy is hovering mere inches above my cock, and I’m nearly blind with the need to sink myself so deep inside her, I come out the other end. I could do it so fucking easily, especially while she’s still recovering.

The urge to hurt. To damage and cause pain, to bend, and break—it’s always going to be there. I will always want to rip Addie to shreds for my own sick enjoyment, but that doesn’t negate my need to protect her. To treasure and hold on to her like she’s the plastic rose my mother gave me.

I’m so fucking in love with her, and while my love is brutal and ruthless, it’s also nurturing. Choosing when to be kind and when to let go will always be an uphill fucking battle.

And this is one of those moments where I need to tame the beast. As much as it makes my dick want to fall off from pain.

Addie turns her eyes to me, peeking at me almost shyly beneath her thick lashes. The ends of her damp hair are plastered to her wet body, molding around her round tits and over her ribs. Water droplets slowly trail down every part of her, and I can’t decide which one to lick first.

Fuck. I really, really don’t want to be kind right now. I want to put the devil to shame.

“Turn around,” I tell her, voice tight and hoarse. She slowly shakes her head, then lowers herself on the ridge of my cock, forcing it to lie flat against my stomach. Then, she begins to slide up and down my length, enveloping me in her wet heat.

A growl rips from my throat, and my hips jerk up as a threat.

“Don’t fucking test me, Adeline.”

“You won’t fuck me,” she drawls, her pink lips curling into a smile.

“Don’t be so sure of that. I can do a lot of things, but resisting your sweet little pussy is hardly one of them.”

“You know I wouldn’t forgive you,” she says, a wicked glint in her eye.

Snarling, I seize her by the throat and bring her in close. “Your hatred has always tasted like heaven, little mouse. If I have to spend the rest of my life on my knees, then I will use my mouth for more than just begging for your forgiveness.” I grin sinisterly, and her breath hitches. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be kneeling beside me.”

She shakes her head, refusing to back down. The little wench rolls her hips, gliding her pussy up to the tip, then down to the base again, drawing my balls up tight. Her eyes flutter as she rubs her clit against me, uncaring how precariously her life hangs over the knife.

“Just stay like this,” she whispers, repeating the motion again and again until I’m close to snapping her neck like a goddamn toothpick.

My nerve endings ignite, and my body goes numb with pleasure. I’m no more conscious of how tightly I’m squeezing her neck than I am of life outside of the girl grinding against me. I’ll die if she stops, but there’s every chance she’ll die before I can finish.

It’s taking everything in me to keep my hips still. Her little hand wraps around my wrist, and it’s then I notice that every vein in my body is protruding from my skin.

Forcefully, she pushes my shoulders back until I’m slamming into the back of the porcelain tub, ripping my hand from her throat. She sucks in a deep breath but doesn’t stop gyrating against me.

My hands move to her round hips, and there’s no stopping me from jerking her further against me, taking over her grinding and setting a pace of my own.

Pleasure is pooling in the base of my spine, and I feel every muscle in my body tighten as I draw closer to release.

It’s when I’m lost to pleasure that I’m overpowered easily. She lifts up on her knees, away from my pulsating cock, and just when I was getting ready to explode.

Instantly, I’m overcome with frustration I’ve never felt in my life.

“I swear to fucking God, Adeline, if you don’t sit back down right fucking now—” She slaps her hand over my mouth, and she might as well have stuck a lightning rod up my ass—I’m so goddamn shocked.

“Shh, baby,” she whispers, a slight grin curling her lips.

Fuck. Her.

She wins.

And she already knows this, moving to wrap her hand around the base of my dick and point it upward. All words die on my tongue, completely forgotten as she gently lowers herself until the tip is breaching her entrance.

Her voice shakes as she says, “I’m in control, Zade. Not you. Me.”

She drops her hand, her eyes pinned to me, a raging fire so hot, they look like liquid pools of whiskey.

My fucking favorite.

I clench my teeth, the fragile bones in my gums threatening to crumble as she lowers herself further until her tight heat consumes the tip of my cock. The side of my fist cracks into the tub, nearly unhinged from how incredible she feels.

“Fuck, Addie—”

Leaning forward, she plants both hands low on my hips, pressing down firmly. Her arms push her breasts together, and if I weren’t so close to erupting, I’d have them between my teeth.

“Don’t move,” she sighs, breathless and raspy with desire.

I can feel the flames shooting from my eyes as I glare at her. I’m hardened steel and could shatter diamonds across my dick, but my control has always been nonexistent with her.

This is the worst torture a man can endure, yet I will gladly suffer through it if it means getting even an inch of her wrapped around me.

“Don’t let that control slip from your fingers because if it does, I will be responsible for every one of my actions. I’ll fuck you so deeply, you’ll be crying for me to stop, and I won’t, Adeline. You’ll have to fucking kill me before that happens, and I will die without a shred of remorse.”

They always say eyes are windows to the soul, and fuck if it isn’t true because I can see the fear invading her body. Yet she still gets off on it just as much as she used to when I was only a shadow in the night.

Her pussy clenches, and I feel her arousal leaking down my length, drawing out a deep, guttural growl from my chest.

Hot water pools mid-level to my thighs, sloshing when she readjusts to balance herself better.

I hiss when she circles her hips, her nails biting into my sides.

“Harder,” I bark. I need the pain to ground me. I need it to keep me sane. If I feel nothing else but her, I’ll lose it completely. “Dig your nails harder.”

She listens, and I shudder from the sharp pin pricks. It’s just enough to keep me from spilling inside her.

Ever so slightly, she bounces her ass, her movements scarce and hardly allowing her pussy to swallow more than an inch of me. Yet it sends my eyes rolling.

One of her hands moves to wrap around the base of my cock, but I stop her. If she touches me, I’m done for.

I circle my finger and thumb around the base to stabilize it, and then use my other hand to rub her clit in tight circles. She’s not taking nearly enough of me to get off on. Even then, she needs stimulation most of the time.

A long, uneven moan fans across my chest.

“Fuck, I need to feel this pussy. I need to feel it wrapped around all of me. Every part of you is mine, little mouse, and you will never feel whole again without me inside you.”

“This is… this is as far as I can go right now, Zade. I can’t do more,” she says, nearly pleading for me to understand.

“Take as much as you can handle, baby. Give me all your pain.”

With her hand back on my hip alongside the other, she digs her nails in again. I groan through gritted teeth, bliss clouding my vision. There’s still so much of me left, but I won’t force her to take more.

“You’re doing so good, baby. And you look so fucking pretty. I can’t wait to see how you’ll look when you take all of me.”

Her teeth chatter again, a moan slipping free.

“So fucking proud of you,” I mutter, intoxicated by the sight of her sweet pussy suspended above me, even when she’s allowing so little of me inside her.

“Zade,” she pleads, voice hoarse.

“I’ve missed watching you soak my cock,” I rasp, biting my lip to hold back another moan. She shudders from my words, rivulets of her arousal trailing down to my fingers wrapped around my dick. I circle her clit faster, eliciting a bone-rattling shiver from her.

“I’ve missed how tightly your pussy clenches around me. How you mold so easily around me.”

She nods her head, lost to the pleasure as I am. Her eyes drift shut while her rhythm becomes choppy, shifting her focus to grinding against my hand.

“It’s not enough, is it?” I breathe, watching her brows pinch. She bites her lip, and even with her eyes shut, I know she’s struggling with herself. Fighting the instinct to seat herself completely down.

She wants to. Fuck, I can see how much she wants to. Still, she resists.

“You need more of me, but you won’t let yourself have it. So, you’ll have to settle for my cum filling you up instead.”

Her mouth parts, a husky moan rolling off her tongue and down my spine. I can feel her right on the edge, desperate to throw herself off.

“You have five seconds, Adeline, or I will fuck you anyway.”

That spark of fear is enough to send her diving off the cliff. She breaks, her thighs shuddering and eyes squeezing shut. A hoarse shout echoes throughout the bathroom, but I couldn’t say who it belongs to.

I quickly follow her over the edge, lightning shooting down my spine and robbing me of all sense. She clamps around me so tightly, it nearly hinders the ropes of cum overflowing from my dick.

If this is what heaven feels like, I’m only sorry I’ve done nothing to deserve it.

An impossible amount of time passes before we both collapse, out of breath and ridden with electric currents.

Her cheek rests against my chest, wet strands of hair draping across my skin like drizzled chocolate, and I just know she can feel my racing heartbeat ricocheting between her teeth.

My fingers dive through her tangled tresses, and I wrap my other arm tightly around her. For several minutes, we just lay like this, catching our breaths and losing it all over again with every touch.

Eventually, I coax her to turn around. She hugs her knees while I squeeze shampoo in my hands and meticulously wash her hair, soothing any lingering tension in her muscles.

I tell her about the first person I killed, and she tells me about hers. A girl named Phoebe, who helped save Addie’s life, only to be forced to take hers in return. She cries while speaking of the girl with flaming orange hair, and the fear she carried in her bones except when it really mattered. In the end, she embodied the flames that hung around her shoulders.

I rinse the soap out, her tears following the suds down the drain while she mourns, her head bowed with grief.

Then, I carry her out of the tub and set her on the counter, holding her mouth open as I brush her teeth. I kiss away every tear and remind her that she will always carry Phoebe with her, and those flames are now hers, too.