The Oath We Give (Hollow Boys, #5)

by Monty Jay

“You want me?” He tilts his head, shadows splaying across the contours of his handsome face. “You’ll crawl.”

IM ON MY KNEES SILAS BABYYYYYYYY

Silas leans forward, grabbing my chin between two fingers. “Pout those pretty fucking lips and say please.” I bite my bottom lip softly. “Please, Silas.”

“I want you to wet my cock with your mouth, get me nice and ready for your pussy, Hex. I can’t fuck your face the way I want to with my piercings in.” His breath is warm against my skin, thumb lightly caressing the curve of my jaw. “Wouldn’t wanna shatter those pretty teeth.”

His grip on my face tightens before he spits onto my tongue, forcing me to shut my mouth around it, forcing me to swallow it down. Whiskey and heat. The familiar taste of him fills my throat, a moan rumbling from my lips. I could drown in him. The intoxicating bourbon and smoke on his breath. My mouth stays open when he removes his hand, guiding the tip of his cock to my waiting lips.

want to make him feel good. To make up for all the good he’s done for me. Every moment he’s caught me while I was crumbling, carefully guiding me back together. I want my body to be his comfort, like his voice is mine.

Silas makes me want to break apart and forget everything I was before him, only to piece myself back together into the perfect fit for him. Not this cursed, damned version of myself. I want to be someone who deserves him. His praise.

“You gonna be a good girl for me, Hex? Let me use your holes until they are leaking my come?” he grunts, eyes intense and unyielding. “Be sure about your answer because I’m not just gonna fuck you. I’ll ruin you. Your body isn’t yours—it’s mine. It’s my temple to worship and mine to fucking destroy.”

The two of us collide. We give in, letting our bodies have what they so desperately want. I give in to that craving for him, the one I tried to ignore for so long. My hand grabs at the back of his neck when he crawls between my legs, pressing our lips back together, like I can’t stand for them to be apart. Two colliding stars that waited centuries to touch, refusing to be separated.

“You’re not ready for me yet. Gotta fuck you with my mouth first, baby. I have to get this tight pussy loosened up, or I’m not gonna fit.” He grunts, settling his upper body between my spread legs.

“Silas,” I beg, twitching beneath him, everything fucking aching. “Please.” “Ah, come on, Hex. You can do better than that.” His voice rubs against my skin, thumb skimming my clit. “Beg me.”

“Look at the mess you made.” He shakes his head, clicking his tongue before showing me how soaked his fingers are. He smirks, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, crooking a single finger at me. “Come clean me up with that witchy mouth.”

“These are fucking delicious,” he mutters before attacking them with his warm mouth. “I’m going to shove my dick between these soft tits and fuck them until I come all over your pretty face. But not tonight.”

“I’m going to break your heart.” He stills, jaw twitching. “You’re going to let me into yours.”

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Suck my cock inside that tight pussy,” he groans when he bottoms out, staring down at where our bodies connect, watching the slaughtering of my pussy. “Look at you, Hex. Taking all of me like a good fucking girl.”

“Cry for me, baby. Cry because it’s so fucking good and you know no one’s cock uses this pretty little cunt like me. Cry for me.”

This is what the gods felt like, I’m sure of it. Completely and utterly euphoric, like nothing could touch them.

“Tell me where I’m gonna come tonight,” he orders, leering above me, chasing his own release. “Say it, pretty thing.” “My pussy,” I mutter, sinking into the mattress beneath me, content to let the plush material absorb my thoroughly fucked body. My inner walls contract, squeezing around his shaft, feeling those barbells rub against the skin inside me. Jesus fucking Christ. Like he needed the piercings with a dick this fucking big. “That’s right, baby. It’s all mine, all fucking mine,”

“You bought a fucking lavender plant? Why?” I refrain from laughing, because that’s what Rook said when I first told him. My head bobs up and down, a slow nod, confirming her words. “Because you like it.”

Rook Van Doren and fire? Never an accident.

“You’re not replacing her, Coraline. We don’t see you that way. Neither does Silas. You can’t replace what they had because what you share is completely different,” she says, looking over at me. “I like you, Coraline. I get you. I was you. And I can’t think of a better way for Silas to honor my sister’s memory than by falling in love again. It’s all she’d ever want for him.”

“Tell me, Daniel.” I tilt my head, a smirk at the corner of my lips. “What’s my wife’s name?” His lips tremble, and his eyes dart away from mine as he swallows hard before uttering one whispered word. “Coraline.” “Remember that name. It’s the one that spared your life.”

“This your way of telling me physical touch is your love language?” I smile against her skin, forcing her hips back to mine, making her ass grind against the bulge in my slacks that won’t stop throbbing till it’s drained every ounce of come into her tight pussy. “I think you might be my love language, Hex.”

“No panties, Hex?” I hum my approval. “Were you hoping I’d show up and fuck you in one of these dresses?” “This is a four-thousand-dollar vintage Vera Wang.” “Not anymore. Now it’s priceless ‘cause it’s going to be the dress you soak in come for me.”

“Be a good slut for your husband and get on your hands and knees.” My hand swats her ass, making her jump. “Face down, ass up, pretty thing.”

I feel the heat of her inner walls pulling me inside every time I pull back, only to shove myself back inside of her, each thrust trying to put me deeper, wanting to be embedded inside every inch of her body and coated in her DNA so she can’t spend a second without me flowing through her. If I could physically remove my soul just to stitch it to hers, I would. And yet, I doubt I’d be close enough.

I want her falling apart. I want both of us falling apart until we are shattered remains of who we were. All so that we can piece each other back together, until we are a mosaic.

She’s opium. Some addictive substance that I never want to quit. That subtle, sweet sting of drugs being injected into your bloodstream, its tendrils wrapping around your mind, luring you into that secluded place where subtle whispers and sweet release hide.

"Stephen was nice enough to call me today, just to tell me that I've been carrying the wrong last name for my entire life, he felt like it was time." Easton spits the words out like they burn his tongue. Eyes sharp as knives, the pure hatred emanating from his gaze was palpable. Disdain and disgust pouring out toward Alistair. "Your father doesn't even have the balls to come out and face the son he never claimed."

"Wayne Caldwell is my father, Van Doren. Learn to read the between the fucking lines, dumbass." Easton snaps, leaning up from the car like he might try and go for him, but he stumbles, too drunk to stand on his own. "A druggie heir. A rotten spare. And a bastard. The completed trio for the king of Ponderosa Springs. How fucking ironic."

“Nothing about us has ever been fake, Coraline.”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you. There is something wrong with me.” I mumble. Large palms enclose around my hips, tugging me into his hard chest. “Touching you has always felt like more of a gift than any curse, Hex.” “And if it kills you?” “Would hurt less than never kissing you again.”

“Silas.” I moan, feeling the pressure of his mouth. “I can’t hide hickeys in my wedding dress.” “Good.” He grunts, biting down on my throat to prove his point, “Let them all know that you belong to me. This body, those witchy lips, your heart. It’s all mine.”

“If you don’t believe in the curse, why call me hex?” I breathe, dropping my forehead to his, my limbs feeling weak. I feel his fingers at the back of my neck, rubbing softly. “Hexadecimal.” “Huh?” “It doesn’t mean cursed, baby. It’s short for hexadecimal.” He mumbles, rubbing his nose against mine. “From the moment I saw you leaving that fucking hell house, there was this secret connection between us. I understood you, saw your pain, and wanted to take it away. Like I knew what you needed before you asked. I’m not calling you cursed, I’m saying you’re a special language only I can decode.”

It was this trauma. A horrible, nasty evil that would live with us forever, but also brought us together. Along the road of pain, we stumbled across one another, clung to each other, and refused to let go. We wouldn't have met without the pain. Wouldn't have loved as deeply as we do without the fear. We hold on tight to one another because we refuse to lose it. We know it's rare and breakable and entirely ours.

"You're so warm, baby." Trying to chase her touch, her smell, her. "Can you feel how fucking cold I am?"

"We are gonna go home. You and me, we're gonna go home. You have to plant more lavender, you have to because I don't know how. Okay?"

few years ago, all I wanted to do was die. Now, I can feel my heartbeat slowing. Now, I am dying and all I want is another day with her. Just one more day so I can soak in her laugh, feel her touch, experience her love. One more cup of lavender tea. One more scoop of honey in my coffee. One more day.

“Hey Silas?” Her voice is a whisper now, the in-between place of flowers starting to fade. The cold is returning to my body and as much as I want Rosie to be happy, I want to go back. I want to go back to Coraline because I can't leave her alone. I'm her curse breaker. I can't be another person she loses. I want to be the person who proves that she can be loved, loudly and endlessly, without it killing me. “Yeah?” I ask. Rosemary's head tilts, a sleepy smile tugs at the corner of her fading face. Drifting off to a place of peace. “Can you carry me one last time?”

“Always, Rosie Girl.”

“1852, the Evergreen Game. Adolf Anderssen sacrificed a queen for checkmate.” I lift my head toward the hospital bed. “Why are you crying like I’m dead, baby?”

“Ask me what my favorite color is.” “What?” I furrow my brow. “Ask me again what my favorite color is,” he asks again, a smile on his lips like he has a secret ready to share with me. I laugh, wiping the tears from my eyes. “What’s your favorite color, Silas?” Instead of answering, he lifts his hand, removing the wedding band on his finger and tilting it into the light so I can see the engraved marking along the inside. “dd4a3d?” “It’s a hex code.” Silas slides the ring back on, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair behind my ear. “For the orangish-red color named Coraline. I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time. All of it.”

“Curse me. I’ll live my entire life cursed as a reminder that I loved you. That you let me love you. That you loved me.” "I'm your favorite color?" "You're my favorite everything, Hex."

When you are born into a life destined for tragedy, a life full of nothing but wicked lies and impossible expectations, you grow up struggling to believe in happily ever afters. You exist in a world of loneliness and melancholy sadness until your inevitable death. I thought I was going to spend my life all alone, trapped in a lonely tower, to protect people from my wretched heart. But Silas came into my life like a gust of wind, a voice that shattered the walls I’d built so high to protect myself. He saw through my pain, my sorrow, the scars. He loved me, not in spite of them, but because of them. He was the person life left me empty for. To give it room for him to fill.

He'd died and come back to me, just to prove I wasn't cursed. I argue that it was him defying death that broken my wicked spell. Silas was willing to cross the grim reaper just to show me I was worth the return. I wanted to spend the rest of my life returning the favor. Proving I was worthy of a love like his.

That what I am, Hex?" He hums, turning around to face me, his hands cupping my face, "Your curse breaker?" "You are everything, Silas Hawthorne. Everything." I lean into his touch, smiling as I press my lips to his thumb, "Even if you are painting your office that ugly-ass orange color."

just want more of her. All of her. Three months of pure freedom looks like heaven on her. The walls built around her have crumbled and she's let me fully into her heart. Letting me make a home there.

“What are you, hmm?” I whisper, tapping the toy to her lips as a silent command to open for me. “Say it, Coraline.” “I’m yours. I’m your wife.” She chokes out, wiggling beneath me, “Only yours. Just…just a hole for you.”

"I'm pregnant." I peer down at her, "What?" "I'm pregnant." She grins, hiding her face in my chest, "Found out yesterday morning." Coraline has given me everything I never thought I would have. A family of my own and love without conditions. I'm in awe of her constantly, her strength and dedication to those in her life. And now she's carrying my child, our baby’s very first home. What a lucky kid.

never got to choose Rosemary. Our connection was circumstance, a gift from something beyond us to help us through our pain. That will never take away the love I have for her, because it was real and it saved me. But I never got to make a choice. From the second I saw her, I chose Coraline. Today, tomorrow, and every day after. I will choose to love her, to give myself to her. Because it could be no one else but her. It's us, forever. Inevitable death and all.

"How pissed you think they'd be if I burned this place down a second time?" Rook asks as he slides into one of the pews, tossing his arms behind his head and making himself at home.