The Butterfly Killer

Chapter 15

15

It was quiet in the cabin. There wasn't even the howl of the wind outside.

Marcus sat curled up on the lounge chair. He rested his head back, tilted away from the open book he held in his hands. He'd stopped after a few minutes after the words started to jumble together. His eyes stared at a random spot on the wall.

Three more days had past. It was an estimate. He could only tell because Roman always left the cabin when it was morning and when it was night. What he was doing was still a mystery to Marcus. He'd tried to get a look at the cabin surroundings when Roman took him out to the outhouse, but Roman didn't dawdle. He rushed Marcus back between the points as if he knew Marcus was trying to canvass the area.

The days were short, but they were so repetitive they blended together into one long period of time. That was why now he couldn't even escape into a book. He was tired yet he couldn't sleep. The fatigue wore him down to the point he just wanted to lie in the recliner and drift away.

He didn't even stir when Roman came from behind his curtain and walked up beside him. The man stared down at his unmoving form. The gaze burned into the side of Marcus's face. He felt those eyes all over his body, through his limbs, but he didn't so much as stir.

Roman nudged the back of the chair. "How's your leg?"

Marcus slowly blinked. "Fine."

It ached, but the pills Roman gave him each morning helped with the pain. It also made the rest of his body feel like a sack of fluff. However, that wasn’t the reason for his…boredom. He didn’t want to name what it was—that would only make it worse. He wanted to fight it for as long as he could because if he fell for it…

He wouldn’t be able to fight Roman. He’d waste away and let Roman win.

Roman stood beside the chair. Marcus watched him for a second from the corner of his eyes, but he eventually turned back to the wall again.

He jumped when Roman’s hand settled on the chair beside his head. Roman’s face lowered.

Marcus’s breath hitched as he felt Roman’s breath over the shell of his ear. Goosebumps rose along his arms and his hands clenched. He shook as he tried to keep as still as possible though he wanted to shoot up from the chair and get as far away from Roman as possible.

There was an even more unsettling feeling growing in his gut. It was connected to the stupid thoughts he had. Ones that questioned what would happen if he turned his head and pressed his?—

“You don’t look fine.”

Roman’s voice had a slight rumble to it. Either it was from fatigue or he’d woken from a nap. It tickled Marcus’s ear even worse than when it was just his breath ghosting over his skin.

He wanted so badly to flinch away, but he held still. It was miraculous he was able to have such control over his body when he felt like he was going to melt into goo because of how bored he was.

“You asked about my leg not me,” he said, trying to sound unaffected. However, there was a slight tremble that made its way into it. He cleared his throat and pulled the blanket higher over his chin.

Roman moved around the chair, his hand sliding over the back of it. He lowered himself to a squat next to the chair and looked up at Marcus with a tilted head and a little smirk on his lips.

Marcus couldn’t help it as he sent a glare the man’s way.

“What the fuck will it take for you to leave me alone?” He clenched his teeth as he asked the question rolled in a threat they both knew he couldn’t fulfill.

Roman’s eyes squinted with amusement though the smirk didn’t grow. It was that uneasy expression that made the fucked up feeling in Marcus’s gut simmer. It felt like adrenaline, but it was so much more than that.

Roman reached out and grabbed Marcus’s cheek. He pinched the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. Marcus did jerk back this time. He smacked at Roman’s arm which retreated.

Roman let out a laugh. “I was getting a little worried I’d broken your spirit without trying. It’s good you’re still fighting. I need you kicking and screaming up until we leave.”

Marcus gave a disgusted look. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Roman’s brow rose. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Marcus fumed. If he had feathers they would be bristling. The anger came faster than ever before. It might be his boredom that made him feel so out of control. These emotions he was dealing with were building up to a point he felt he was going to explode if he didn’t get them out.

Marcus grabbed Roman by the collar of his shirt and yanked him forward. He had no idea what he’d been planning to do. He realized only when Roman was falling toward him that he changed his mind. His eyes widened as he thought too late about not attacking Roman.

Roman landed with his arms on either side of Marcus’s head. The recliner tilted back as both of their weights almost toppled the thing over.

Marcus stared at Roman’s seething face in shock at what he’d done. He looked down at his clenched hand that stretched out Roman’s shirt collar. He yanked it away. The fabric of the shirt was ruined, the collar stretched out so much it looked like a scoop-neck.

Roman glanced down at his collar. He huffed through his nose softly and closed his eyes for a brief second. When he opened them again, there was a change in that gaze that made Marcus’s stomach invert on itself.

“I-I—” He stuttered as he tried to think of something that would calm Roman down. Though, he already knew Roman was beyond calming down.

Roman’s hand shot to Marcus’s throat. He squeezed hard enough to leave Marcus gasping. He twisted in the chair, trying to get out of the strong grip, but in this position, he didn’t have the leverage to make it out of the chair.

As darkness ate away at the corners of his eyes, he felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He stilled in shock as he felt himself hardening in his pants. He looked away from Roman’s eyes, his cheeks heating as he started to lose consciousness.

Roman’s grip lessened as Marcus became weaker like pudding in his grip. He looked ready to say something when he noticed how strange Marcus was acting.

He lifted away from Marcus. He didn’t fully remove his hand, but he stopped squeezing.

Marcus gasped. His breaths were wheezes. His throat ached and it felt like he was breathing through a straw each time he took a breath. He made the mistake of looking at Roman’s face. The second he met the man’s eyes, he stiffened as something electric zipped through his body.

Roman stroked Marcus’s throat absentmindedly which didn’t do Marcus any favors. He gulped, feeling it against Roman’s hand. Roman’s eyes flickered to Marcus’s throat as he must of felt the swallow.

Roman’s brows furrowed. The pure rage that had burst out of him like a wild animal was pushed away to make room for curiosity. Marcus wiggled to get away, but the second he moved, Roman pounced on top of him.

“I’ll rip your face up with my teeth if you don’t stay still.”

Marcus stilled.

The order bled from Roman’s lips like it was a curse being sent Marcus’s way. He could do nothing but follow it. He was tranced into following Roman’s words, a dark magic that could only end with him getting hurt.

But under that spell Roman had cast, Marcus’s own embarrassment bled through and made him think stupid thoughts. He acted without thinking and moved his hips, tilting them just so to hide that he was hard.

Roman threw his forearm against Marcus’s neck and collarbone, slamming Marcus down into the chair. Marcus winced and wheezed as his breath was knocked out of him.

“I told you—” Roman cut himself off as he looked down.

Marcus cursed his eyes for averted down at the problem he was trying to hide which led Roman to look in the same direction.

Marcus tried to twist his hips even further, but before he could do so, Roman grabbed his thigh from under the blanket and forced it back to the right.

Marcus couldn’t do much being pinned down under Roman’s arm. He attempted to flip over on his side, but that only gave friction to his problem. His breath hitched as Roman’s hand tightened on his upper-thigh. He grew harder at the rough and almost intimate touch.

It had been long enough since he’d gotten off that he was starving for this. It wasn’t even that he hadn’t jacked off in so long. The last time he’d had sex was last year—and it had been a quick tumble in a hotel with a girl he’d met at a bar.

Marcus’s face burned. He didn’t even attempt to speak. There was nothing he could say that could make this situation better.

Roman stared at the tented area that Marcus didn’t even have the chance of covering up.

There was a lengthy silence that made Marcus want to crawl into a hole. He waited for Roman’s face to scrunch up in disgust and finally kill Marcus. Or at least beat the shit out of him.

But what he didn’t expect was for Roman to let out a little snort.

“Were you getting off on this the whole time?”

Marcus sputtered. “W-Wha?—”

Roman lifted his arm from Marcus’s chest, but at the same time, he grabbed Marcus’s crotch, knocking the breath out of Marcus once more.

A grin stretched over Roman’s face. It was cruel and evil. The smirk let Marcus know that what he’d seen from Roman wasn’t even the start of the worse the man could do.

Roman just laid his hand over Marcus’s crotch like it was nothing out of the ordinary. He didn’t have to do anything more than that for Marcus’s brain to short-circuit.

He couldn’t decide whether to buck his hips into the touch or to scramble back. He didn’t do either of those things because he couldn’t get himself to fucking move . He was captured in Roman’s web. The more he even thought about struggling the more escape seemed hopeless.

Roman leered down at him like he could see the inside of his brain. His smile widened and revealed his teeth.

“All you needed to do was ask.”

Marcus didn’t get the chance to even ponder what that meant before Roman ripped the safety of the blanket away from him. Cold hit him like a brick wall. It wasn’t enough to flag his erection, but it was enough to wake him up from the brain fog that had nestled into his head like a parasite.

He jolted up from the bed and shoved Roman away from him. Roman, not seeing the attack coming, fell back in surprise. Marcus dove for the edge of the recliner. He fell halfway off of it. He began to crawl on the floor, but Roman grabbed the back of his shirt and tried to haul him back into the chair.

The recliner teetered back and forth as the two fought for dominance. It ended up falling over, making a loud thud and throwing Marcus the rest of the way onto the floor. The chair made a loud thud as it hit the floor. He heard Roman curse. He didn’t even look over his shoulder as he began to crawl towards the bed. He didn’t know where else to go besides under it.

He made it completely under the bed when he hear Roman’s footsteps coming toward him.

Roman crouched at the end of the bed. He gave a dark laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. “Where did you think you were going to hide?”

Marcus didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until he lungs started to burn. He slowly let out the breath and took a steady one in. He felt the beginnings of a heartattack.

Roman got up. He turned the fallen recliner back over and straightened up the mess they’d made as they fought. All the while, Marcus anticipated the man coming right back for him. He was waiting like a scared animal and he hated that he’d been reduced to this. He hated this feeling.

He didn’t like feeling weak.

Roman turned back toward the bed. This was it, Marcus thought. He was coming back to finish what he started. Fuck what Roman’s original plans were. Roman couldn’t stand Marcus to live for another second.

Marcus was just as disgusted with himself as he surely thought Roman was with him. He had other things to worry about though than his increasingly worrisome turn-ons.

But Roman didn’t do anything other than stand there. He waited a minute, letting Marcus simmer in the silence that was so loud his ears were about to bleed.

Roman let out a soft chuckle. “I’m not going to chase after you if that’s what you think.”

His footsteps made Marcus’s heartbeat spike as he walked around the bed. The bed frame squeaked as he lowered himself down onto the mattress. Marcus could just imagine Roman getting comfortable as the mattress dipped close to Marcus’s back. Just a little more and Roman would be crushing him under it.

His leg ached as he thought about the bed collapsing and it falling right where he was wounded.

“When you want to let loose, I’ll be here.”

Marcus ground his teeth together. That was never going to fucking happen.

His breaths were becoming more even. However, he didn’t have the strength to pull himself from under the bed. Roman never moved from the bed and with him lurking so close, Marcus didn’t want to find out if Roman would end up doing something to him or not.

He fell asleep and dreamed of Roman breaking his leg over and over. Each time he helped heal the damage he’d done, only to break it again.