Hunting Adeline (Cat and Mouse, #2)

by H.D. Carlton

the open doors.

At one point in our lives, we’re all afraid to die. For some, it happens the first moment we fully understand what death means—before depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues arise. For others, it’s before they’ve found something to believe in—whether it’s God or something else that’s spiritual. And there are those who flounder through life, terrified of the day they take their last breath. I think for some, they aren’t so much scared of death itself, but rather, how they’re going to die.

Rage. It’s not appreciated enough. Not studied enough.

“Meadows, baby. Our last name is Meadows.” “Yours. Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’ll be expected to beg.” There’s no stopping the savage grin from gracing my lips. “I love to beg.”

“I was obsessed with you from the moment I saw you. All those dark, twisted emotions I felt were the rawest form of who I am. I made the decision to show you that instead of concealing it. I never claimed to be a good person, little mouse, and that was something I decided I could live with. Just like murdering a bunch of pedophiles and human traffickers.”

“And I’m sure there are many who claim to be good and honest, and that they would be willing to kill me for my crimes against you. But that’s the difference. I’ve never made those claims.”

“You will never hear me call myself a good man. Or kind. Or even honorable. There is very little left of that in me, and the truth is that it was never really there to begin with. I was born with a blackened soul and good intentions. And there is a difference between those who are needlessly evil and those who do bad things hoping that something good will come out of it. I'll let you decide for yourself which one I am.” He doesn't wait for me to answer—I get the distinct feeling that he wants me to think about it first. He steps towards me, and my muscles instantly stiffen. That’s when I realize I don't need to think about it at all. Trauma has a tight hold on me, but all I want him to do is hold me tighter.

“You want the simple answer, too?” he asks, his voice deepening, causing my pulse to skyrocket. “It’s because I love you, Adeline Reilly. And I know you love me back. When I’m inside you, you won’t be thinking of anything else but how to get me deeper. The only fear you’ll taste is from a God sending you to heaven too soon.”

Others may believe it is never okay to take a life under any circumstances. We are not the judge. At one point, I might have even believed that, too. But then I came face-to-face with true evil. People who are not human at all, but vile things that will continue to destroy this world and anything good that inhabits it.

Now, I realize that choosing to look the other way and let God handle it is a fucking cop-out. It’s allowing evil to continue to live because they believe the afterlife is scarier.

“You really want to cause mass extinction for those names? Moan them, little mouse, I dare you. Whichever ones you choose, not a single man by that name will fucking exist anymore. How about we start with Chad? We can definitely live without the Chads in the world.” My mouth pops open. “That is so… excessive.” He shrugs, turning to take the mac ‘n’ cheese out of the oven, “Doesn’t change a damn thing.”

The air crackles around us, and it’s clear that I don’t need to set this car on fire when our chemistry is like dynamite and burns everything around us. “Our mouths are touching the same spot,” she says shakily. “Does that count as kissing?” “You tell me, little mouse. When I make you cry out for God, does that count as praying?”

“Did you know that reclaiming something that was stolen from you can help with trauma?” he asks. “Yes,” I murmur. “And if something hurt you before, giving it a new meaning can help.”

“I won’t touch you,” he promises. “You’re in control, little mouse. I’m only here to protect your hand. Instead of allowing this knife to cause you pain, use it to give yourself pleasure instead.” My throat constricts, and I have the strongest urge to run away. But that feeling is what keeps me still. I don’t want Xavier to win. To haunt my life so terribly that an inanimate object has the power to control me. Nodding my head, I guide his hand up, my breath hitching when the handle slides along my slit. Zade watches my movements closely, his teeth clenched and the muscle in his jaw pulsating. Blood begins to trickle down his wrist, and for reasons I can’t explain, I squeeze his hand tighter, eliciting more trails of blood. He growls deep in his chest but doesn’t stop me. I bite my lip, a whimper breaking free when I slowly insert it inside of me, my legs trembling. Normally, I don’t think I could ever get enjoyment out of fucking myself with a knife handle. But using Zade’s hand to do it adds a layer of pleasure I wouldn’t be able to find on my own. Seeing his blood drip from our hands instead of my own—it does something to me that I can’t explain. My breath escalates when I slide the handle inside me to the hilt, Zade’s fingers pressed up against my flesh. A groan rumbles deep in his chest, but he keeps his promise, his hand not even twitching against me. “Tell me how it feels,” he rasps, enthralled by the sight of me tugging our hands down just to drive it back up, elici...

“You know what I see? I can see how tightly your pussy is clenching the knife,” he growls, face strained with need. “Like it’s just begging to be filled.” “Do you wish it was your cock instead?” I pant, enjoying the way his eyes flare. Absolutely loving that he can only dream of fucking me, forced to watch a knife handle do it instead. A rush of power flows through me, and I can’t contain the smile. His eyes lift to mine, something dangerous whirling in his irises. My stomach clenches, the orgasm cresting higher. But I don’t fear him. I pity him. “Does it hurt knowing that you can’t touch me?” I ask, another moan slipping free when I hit that spot inside me. “Does it cut deeper than this knife?” “Yes,” he confesses, his tone low and dark. “You can’t have it,” I taunt. He eyes me closely, understanding what I’m doing and not liking it. Yet, he’ll never disobey me, knowing that the trust I’ve placed on him will be shattered. Giving respect hurts like a bitch when your hands are tied. I drive the knife deeper and faster, reaching that peak, and I decide that giving him a small taste will deepen the agony. All I need is a little nudge, but this time, I’m not the one that will be begging him to let me come. He will be begging me. “Do you want to lick me, Zade?” I ask, eyes threatening to cross. “I’m so ready to come.” He drops his gaze to our hands, baring his teeth from the restraint. “Yes,” he chokes out. “Say please.” A flick of his dangerous gaze and savage curl to his lips...

Giving me one last weighted look, he leans forward, and I shiver when I feel his hot breath fan over my core. And then his tongue is sliding against my clit, slow and firm. He groans around me, and I can no longer hold on. I shatter around him, crying out as my world breaks apart. My free hand flies into his hair, grasping for something to hold on to as my knees buckle. He quickly stands, catching me and holding me up against him, our hands pressed tightly against my pussy as I ride out the waves. I press my forehead into his chest, squeezing my eyes shut as the remnants of the orgasm slowly fade. Both hands cup my face before sliding into my locks, pulling my head back and nudging his mouth against my cheek. “Give me them,” he demands sharply. With aftershocks still attacking my nerves, I let him in, turning my mouth towards his. His lips capture mine immediately, and it rivals the pleasure radiating between my thighs. He kisses me deeply, drawing out a small, husky moan before pulling away, only to brush his lips across my ea...

Instantly, I relax. Zade may be Hades, but the dark God has never been known to bow for anyone but his woman. It gives me a small dose of power, enough to reignite my confidence.

"Do you think needing me somehow makes you weak?" "Doesn't it?" I snap. "No, baby, it makes you strong.” He bends down, putting his face directly into mine. "I may own every breath in your body, but make no mistake, Adeline, you own mine, too. I am yours to command. To bend and break. To mold and manipulate. Do you think that makes me weak? Or do you think I'm strong enough to admit that even though my body can physically live on without you, I would never get my fucking soul back?” His hand slides into my hair and fists the strands tightly. "Without you, I will shatter. But with you, I am indestructible."

“What you’ve forgotten is that the heart beating inside your chest isn’t fucking yours,” he snarls. “It’s mine. And if my heart has stopped working, then pull that trigger, little mouse. Kill the rest of me. I’m nothing if I’m not the reason you breathe.”

and the woman comfortable in a gothic mansion, at home with herself and the ghosts that haunt her. I loved both versions of you, and I love who you are now—someone full of both strength and vulnerability. Yet still, you carry fire in your heart, and that will never fucking change. They will never take that from you, Adeline.”

It made me feel… in control. I was holding someone else’s life in my hands, and it was my decision and only mine if I pulled that trigger. I held something precious. Something irreversible. And it was all… mine.

“Because they never owned any part of you. They took what they did not possess. That doesn’t make you a whore; that makes you a survivor.”

A devilish grin quirks his lips up. “But you are my whore. You’re my everything, and you become so much more with each passing day. I possess every fucking part of you, Adeline. Even when you screamed and cried that you didn’t want me, you could never let me go. All those nights you stood at your window, letting me watch you. Confronting me instead of running and instigating me knowing what would happen. And when you did run, you only ever used your mouth to try and get away. You gravitated towards me, just as I did you. And that is something no other man will ever have.”

“I don’t care if I need to set this world on fire until there’s no one left but you and me. The world will burn around us, and I’ll gladly live in chaos with you as long as the only person that is a danger to you is me.”

“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.”

She was fucking made for me.

“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.”

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 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.”

“I love you, Zade. Sometimes I can’t fucking stand it,” I say, my voice raspy and uneven. “But it was the only thing that kept me alive. You saved me. Even when we were apart, you saved me. And I hope to God you never stop hunting me.”

“I was only ever helpless when I fell in love with you. And you may hold all the power over me, little mouse, but I’ve never been defenseless.

Don’t mistake my lack of control for weakness. All the ways I’ve hurt you have always been intentional.”

“Don’t mistake my submission for weakness, baby,” she breathes into my ear, voice husky with desire. “All the ways I’m going to hurt you will be intentional.”

I’m so full of him, and I’ve never felt more complete. “You’re searching for life inside that sunset, yet I seek death between your thighs,” he rasps, his deep voice husky with desire.

Heaven isn’t a place you go to when you die, it’s inside the person that’s worth dying for.