Shadowman (Alabaster Penitentiary Book 5), page 73
“Whose little hole is this?” I growl, lapping at his dick, and his balls, swirling my finger in his tight ass.
“Yours, Byron,” he gasps. “Mmm-my hole belongs to you.”
“Forever…?” I purr again.
He shudders. “God… yeessss. Sweet fury, will you get in me? I wanna come with you stretching me open…”
“You know I can’t resist you.” I kiss his cock, thrusting my finger inside a few more times before I stand up. “That’s why you act like such a jealous, possessive, crazy fucking brat… Because you know I like it.”
He whines when I hoist him up onto the countertop, pushing his legs open.
“You fucking have me, don’t you, gorgeous boy?” I palm his cock and knead his balls roughly until he arches. Then I grab the nearest thing that could be lube… Some coconut oil. “My pretty little slut wants this cock that he owns inside his tight pussy?”
“God, you’re gonna make me come just t-talking…”
I chuckle, slathering oil onto my inches, then between his cheeks.
“I’m gonna push in, baby…” I growl. “Take all of this big dick at once, okay, violet?”
He’s nodding, crumbling and heaving as I nudge, then grab his hips, and then thrust. One deep push, and I’m settled between his legs with my cock all the way in. His dick is leaving a puddle on his abs, and it’s the sexiest thing ever.
“Ohh, baby… That’s right. Open that warm little hole for your man.”
“Unngghhfuck.” He’s writhing, squirming, squeezing my hands on his hips. “Fuck it… fuck m-my… spot.”
“God, you’re a beauty, baby.” I pull back then press in, dragging a garbled cry out of him. “Am I fucking you right?”
“Yes yes yes yes yes, there there, please!”
“I love you so much, Trev,” I whimper, dropping to lick the cum off of his stomach. Then, I force my tongue into his mouth, and he sucks at it greedily. “I can’t believe you’d think I could want anyone else…”
“I’m… s-sorry…
“Yea, you are. Don’t doubt my loyalty, tight, perfect thing.” Kissing him, I’m smacking my hips between his legs, fucking my cock into his hole rough. It’s so tight it’s sucking me, squeezing and gripping.
“I won’t, baby,” he breathes out, fingers in my hair.
“You love me?”
“I—fuuuuck—I love you so much.” Trevel wraps his legs around my waist, getting me as deep as our bodies will allow.
I’m going out of my mind, pumping him full while we groan and growl and sob. I’m getting close, and I can tell he is too by the way his thighs are tightening.
Licking and sucking at his nipples brutally, I purr, “I’m almost there, Trev…”
“Byron… mmff baby, please…”
“Please what?”
“Ask me…” His back arches. “Oh fuck, ask me to marry you, baby… And then come in me. I’m gonna come, sweet… fury…”
I chuckle breathlessly, teasing his dick. The feel of it hard in my hand is going to push me over the edge. “You wanna marry me, gorgeous love?”
He nods.
“You wanna be my husband…?”
“Yes…”
“You want me to breed you ‘cause you’re mine?”
“Uhhhfuck, forever. Forever, Byron… I’m coming!”
His long cock shoots cum all over him, while I milk it out in my fist. Matching his spurts with bucks, I reach my orgasm while he’s still coming, the clamping of his hole welcoming my hot, thick pulses.
“God, Trevel… fuck yea, baby.” I take his left hand in mine and suck his ring finger into my mouth, sucking and sucking on it while I come deep inside him.
“I’m yours I’m yours… I wanna be… your husband.” He melts into a puddle beneath me on the counted.
I’m humming, releasing his finger to kiss his gasping lips. “You’re my prison husband,” I fizzle down, and he snorts.
“I want you to be my actual wife,” he says through a yawn. I grin. “You better ask me one of these days… I’m sick of waiting.”
My thoughts go to the ring in my pocket… The one I’ve been carrying around since we left the island.
“I promise I’ll make you mine forever, Trevel Fenwick.” I kiss him softly, and he hums. “I love you.”
“I love you brighter than a million Times Squares.” He chuckles.
“Moon, and sun…” I whisper the words he said to me, over a year ago. “And all the light between… You’re it for me, baby. No one before you matters.”
He blinks up at me, and whispers, “I know.”
Pulling out, I ogle him for a moment, all flushed and gushy and so perfectly mine, it’s not even fair. Sure, I have memories. We both do… But they don’t hold a candle to this…
Psycho shit. I love it.
Bending to grab my pants, I reach inside my pocket, chest fluttering with nerves. But then my phone rings.
Trevel peeks at me, smiling and content. Happy. I love that look.
“It’s probably just Ren calling to blab about the puppy some more,” I mutter, and he chuckles.
But when I pull my phone out, I see a Las Vegas number. And my heart falls with a thud into my gut.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
Oh, fuck…
I know I should ignore it. I should just… decline the call.
But I don’t. I swipe to answer.
Tentatively bringing the phone to my ear, I mumble, “Hello?”
And the voice of Manuel Blanco croons into my ear. “Hello, Shadowman.”
To Be Continued…
Here’s an EXCLUSIVE SNEAK PEEK of Ivory, Alabaster Penitentiary Volume 6, THE FINALE:
When I was three years old, I met the devil.
I didn’t know it at the time… Turns out, everything they say about him is true.
He hides quite well in plain sight.
But he doesn’t blend into the background. No, that wouldn’t work. It would be impossible not to see him. Instead, he lures you in, flatters, manipulates and comforts, giving the illusion of loyalty.
He’s very good at what he does.
El diablo esta astuto.
He had woven himself into the fibers of my family. Earned their trust, and he did it well. He was good… And my father was weak.
In the end, though, a debt must be paid. That is what I learned as a child, as I cowered and sniffled, hand clasped tightly over my mouth to keep quiet. Eyes wide with terror.
I saw evil that day, and it looked right at me. It saw me.
Yet I was spared. I wasn’t taken… Not then, anyway.
I hate to admit it, but I learned a lot from him; el diablo. And anything he didn’t teach me, I learned because of him. One way or another, he is responsible for so much of what my life has become. Whether that’s good or bad remains to be seen, but I prefer not to give him the satisfaction of thinking he molded me…
I’m sure he’d love that all too much.
For now, I will focus on the things I’ve done for myself, what I’ve discovered, and how hard I’ve trained. How diligently I’ve worked over the years… It’s been my sole motivation for so long, I can barely remember a life outside of him.
I hate it.
That’s good. I need to hate. I need to loathe, and remember why. Because sometimes it’s easy to forget… When he’s close.
Teeth clamping together, I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. Reminding myself to be in the present. Not to dwell so much on the things I can’t change. It’s difficult for me… Life is difficult, and it has been since I was just a boy who lost his parents. Forced to grow up way too fast…
Again, because of him.
The ocean breeze brushes through my hair, and I let it settle me. The smell of the saltwater and the mist of it touching my skin. When I reopen my eyes, I see it. We’re close…
I glance over myself, my body in this outfit. My hands run down the silken fabric, and I buzz inside.
I bite my lip.
“Hey,” a sultry male voice comes from behind me and I startle, tipping my chin. “Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”
Swallowing hard, I attempt to calm my instant nerves, and nod. “I am.”
He’s very good-looking, in a fair, yet defined way, like me. Though his skin is pale, and his hair is platinum blonde. A face of all sharp angles, in contrast to his full pink lips. He looks like a model.
I’m instantly insecure.
But then he smiles, a dazzling thing, though it’s kind, like his deep green eyes. “I always love meeting a newbie. I’m Soren.”
“Ari,” I try not to stammer. I’ve practiced this dozens of times, but it’s still overwhelming… Actually being here, so close.
“You’re, like, way too pretty.” He pouts playfully. “I’m not sure if standing next to you will make me look better by association, or worse by comparison.”
I have to snort at that.
Soren leans up against the railing, facing me rather than the view from the top deck. “So what brings you here?”
Revenge.
“I like to party, and I need the money,” I serve him my rehearsed answer. “What else?”
He chuckles. It’s a great sound; melodious and sweet. I think I like him.
“You’re cute, Ari.” He tilts his head. “Stick with me. I’ll show you the ropes.” He winks, and I think my cheeks are warming.
But I don’t have time to obsess over it, because we’re about to dock.
We’ve arrived… At Alabaster Isle.
“Come on.” Soren takes me by the arm, guiding me to the stairs.
Okay… I guess we’re besties.
I’m not mad at it. I could certainly use a friend. Especially one who knows the ropes…
We disembark; myself, Soren, and a group of eleven others, by my count. Not including the staff—two large, quiet men who have been instructing us on where to go and what to do.
They’re the ones who explained the rules, and handed out the NDA’s for us to sign. None of it was a surprise to me. I knew what to expect going in. After all, this has been the plan for quite some time.
The rules are simple… No phones. No talking about the island. No leaving the left side of the mansion. That’s the one I might have to break…
We’re here purely for entertainment purposes, and we aren’t allowed to leave until the ferry goes back to the mainland on Sunday. Not that we’d have any other way to get off the island…
The group of us are ushered into a few black SUV’s, and driven up the coast of the island. And all the while, my pulse is steadily increasing, with every inch we cruise closer to the giant palace of alabaster elegance.
The closer we get to…
My fingers roll the material of my dress between my fingers as I shift subtly in the soft leather seat. I still can’t tell if I’m comfortable or not, and it’s bothering me. I don’t like not being able to identify my feelings—something he’s a true master at weaving in people. El diablo, he has this magnetic force when he’s nearby that frays confidence and breeds uncertainty.
Just one of his many powers.
“Relax,” Soren whispers to me, noting my fidgets, which naturally makes me even more self-conscious. “You’ll do fine. Velle will love you. And if you’re in with him, you won’t have to worry about anything else.”
My stomach twists into an even tighter knot. I don’t want my new friend to think I’m unappreciative of his camaraderie, so I nod and offer him a grateful smile. But his pep talk is only making me more nervous.
Yes, I know about John Chevelle. And I would stand to agree that getting in his good graces will be helpful…
But is he… too close? If he is, it might be difficult…
That’s the question I’ll need to find an answer to.
The vehicle comes to a stop, and we all file out. The sun is just setting, casting a pale orange glow over the scenery. Ocean on one side, forest on the other. It’s truly quite breathtaking, but the thing that steals every ounce of oxygen from my lungs is what’s towering before me…
The Ivory Mansion.
“Diablo…” I whisper, eyes wide, chest caving.
“What’s that, sweetie?” Soren asks, and I shake myself out of it.
“N-nothing,” I stutter. “This place is…”
“Yea, it’s massive,” he chuckles. “Sorta creepy inside, but you get used to it.”
He takes me by the hand, tugging me along with the rest of them as the security team brings us all inside through the front. Double-doors, large, black, with brushed brass fixtures. On the way inside, I sneak a peek at the ornate door knocker… In the shape of a birdcage.
I swallow a jagged lump in my throat.
“Huyes de tu jaula, pajarito…”
Once inside, we’re immediately guided left, toward a large staircase. But my eyes are coveting the right. The side of the mansion we’re not allowed to enter…
Still, I’m becoming distracted by the sheer size of this place. All of the research in the world couldn’t have prepared me for what it would actually be like…
From the decor, to how big it all is; opulent, regal grandeur with an underlying sense of malevolence. To the naked eye, it’s luxurious and majestic. But the immorality is palpable, and my heart is instantly racing, almost too fast.
This is him. I feel it in the air, in every square inch of this monstrosity.
What have you created here, diablo?
What did you do…
“Dios… ayúdame,” I mumble under my breathe.
At the top of the stairs, the security team spouts off a warning for us to remember the rules, but no one seems to be listening to them. I think I’m the only one who’s new here, because the moment we reach the third floor, they all scatter, as if they’re familiar enough with the place to know where they want to go.
I’m left slowly wandering the long corridor, following Soren—sort of—but getting lost in studying everything. My eyes scan floor to ceiling, taking in the ambience of dimmed light from lantern sconces, accentuating the deep red paint with the occasional black accent, erotic artwork, brass and bronze fixtures… Baroque, and beautiful in its own very ominous way.
It’s ridiculously familiar, and I have to scoff to myself for a moment.
Would you look at that? I’m back at the house in Bogotá…
Voices ring out from up the hall as music begins to play, soft at first, until someone cranks the volume.
“Ari!”
I’m lingering outside of a bedroom whose door is ajar, peering inside. No one’s in there, but it’s pretty big.
“Hey, Ari!”
People are cheering in the distance. I suppose the party is getting started right away. Makes sense.
I’m about to push the door open a bit more when someone grabs me, and I flinch. “Uh, Earth to Ari,” Soren chuckles. “I’ve been calling you…”
I gulp and blink. “Sorry…”
Get used to the name, Angel… You picked it.
“Come on, party favors are out.” He grins, yanking me up the hall, where I’m assuming everyone is gathered to begin their evening with alcohol and drugs.
Fluttering nerves encompass me. Blend in… Be a chameleon. It’s the only way.
“I, uh… is there a… restroom I can use?” I ask him, pumping on the breaks.
Soren is distracted by a guy setting up lines on a bronze tray as he motions with his hand. “Yea, door on the end.”
I locate the bathroom, slinking inside and locking the door. After I triple-check that it’s definitely locked, I can breathe a bit easier. I step up to the vanity and assess myself in the mirror.
Combing fingers through my hair, I blink at my reflection. The person staring back at me… I smooth out my dress and adjust myself.
I look like her…
It’s good. This is by no means the first time I’ve done this, but it still always shocks me. How easily I can look like her when I want to. How much this settles me sometimes…
I wish I could wrap my head around it fully, but it’s hard, because so much of what I do is wrapped up in anger… And vengeance.
Running hands down my front, I verify that everything is securely in place. I take a deep breath, and I leave the restroom to join the party. But when I return to the hall and hear the raucous noise of my fellow partygoers, I bite my lip, chin tipping in the opposite direction.
There appear to be guards emerging from their rooms at the sound of the party, dressed in uniform. One of them is griping about the night shift.
When the coast is clear, I slink down the hall toward the stairs. The front door opens, and I slip around a corner, peering over the balcony of the third floor landing.
“Don’t piss me off, Rookie,” a male voice barks from downstairs. “I’m not in the mood.”
I watch as two big guys storm inside, also in uniform. The taller guy has dark, chin-length hair, tied back in a tiny bun, whereas the shorter guy has sandy-blonde hair, and a much more country look about him.
“Sorry… I just thought you might—”
“No one’s paying you to think,” the larger, surlier of the two cuts the other guy off. “Just do your job and shut up until it’s time to stop.” He pauses, eyes flinging in my direction. I duck out of sight. “Sounds like the festivities are getting started…” I peek down in time to catch him slapping the blonde guy on the back, hard enough that the dude winces. “Do us all a favor… and lighten up.”
That’s him.
I don’t even need confirmation. That has to be John Chevelle.
He turns toward the stairs, the blonde guy looking after him, longingly and a bit dejected. He’s about to follow when dress shoes on the marble floor stop them both in their tracks.
My heart is instantly in my throat. My anatomy is sizzling, chills breaking out over my exposed skin.
“Go on upstairs,” Velle mumbles, eyes fixed in the direction the footsteps are coming. “Grab a drink, do a line. Just… whatever.”
He saunters away from the blonde guy, toeing the line between right and left. The blonde guy’s shoulders slump visibly, but he doesn’t come upstairs. He stays on the first floor, stomping off in a different direction.
