Marked

by Charisse Spiers

  We both moan out together and speed up.

  I can't think.

  I can't breathe.

  I can't stop.

  I want to come.

  I need to feel her come.

  She places her free hand back on the front of my thigh and pulls me into her face. I increase pressure on her clit as well. Our legs are starting to shake. I can see her starting to clench around the dildo as do I. We're about to come at the same time. We clamp down on each other's clits at the same time, each massaging it between our tongue and the pallet of our mouth; so hard that I didn't even feel the build of my orgasm before it starts to consume me, making it hard to keep going, but I do anyway. I moan against her, the vibrations adding to the sensitivity of my clit. She doesn't let up. It's becoming hard to endure.

  Without thinking I pull out the dildo and stop, riding out my orgasm. I need her to stop, but I can't find the will to make her. I've already come twice today. She slightly alters the angle of the dildo and presses in further. "Fuck. I'm so full."

  All of my muscles tighten as she begins the short bursts with the vibrating head against my G-spot, a different feeling starting to build. It's not the first time I've ever gotten a G-spot orgasm and it won't be the last, but it's been a while. I cannot move. My toes curl as I start to come on the dildo. I can feel it. Everything is in slow motion.

  "Stop."

  She pulls it out. I do the same and quickly turn around to finish her off. She looks at me, unsure. I kiss her lips. "Thanks, doll, but it's your turn. This time...I'm letting you come. Scooting back down I spread her legs as far as they will go, opening the lips of her pussy, and revealing her clit.

  "It's not going to take me long. I was almost there when you stopped."

  I place the edge of my tongue on her clit and quickly massage it at a steady rhythm, not too hard and not too soft. She tries to close her legs but I hold them down, making her take more of the sensations. "Shit. Lux, I'm about to come. Keep going."

  I insert two fingers into her pussy...for now, to feel her, to make sure she comes. Her muscles tighten and she grabs ahold of my hair, pulling it. I have one thing that is like a fucking NOS button. Pull my hair and I turn into a crazed sex addict. I never let up, slowly rubbing my tongue until I can feel her. She presses on the back of my head as she starts to orgasm. When I feel her clenching around me and my fingers become wetter I suck her into my mouth as hard as I can. She instantly arches her back, giving me my angle.

  In the middle of her orgasm I remove my fingers and slam the dildo inside against her G-spot. "Oh, fuck."

  I do it again.

  "Shit."

  Repeat.

  "Fucking yes. I'm going to come."

  I will not stop until she comes. I'm dedicated.

  I'm back to flicking my tongue over her sensitive clit, keeping her mind in a haze, free from thought. Everyone that studies a woman knows that if she has things on her mind she can't come. Things are rarely as cut and dry as you read in fantasy romance novels.

  I thrust harder, but don't alter the angle.

  "Oh hell. Fuuuuuck. Now."

  She pulls my hair harder then lets go and replaces them on her breasts. I look at her beneath my lashes. She is kneading them and pinching her nipples. "Dammit, yes. Oh, fuck. I'm coming."

  She thrusts her hips up. My tongue is getting tired, but I will make it till the end. She becomes still, the octave in her moan getting higher.

  She's coming.

  I watch her, feeling a sense of pride overcome me. After two years...that's fucking talent.

  Her body goes limp.

  I stand to my knees and lick my lips in an attempt to rid them of excess moisture. She has a lazy smile on her face. "That was fucking awesome."

  I slide off the bed. "You're welcome."

  I go to her dresser and start digging through the drawers for some clothes. There is no way in hell I'm wearing what I wore earlier through Atlanta this late at night. I pull out a long sleeve cotton jersey, tunic length, and a pair of yoga leggings. I turn to her as I pull them on. She rolls over on her side to face me. "Where are you going? You know you can stay here if you want."

  "I know, but you know I can't sleep if I'm not in my own bed. It's a curse, but I haven't figured out a way around it yet, and I have to work tomorrow night. Did you have a good birthday?"

  "Yes. Thanks. I’ll clean BOB and BOB’s friend when you leave. I just need a minute."

  I pull on a pair of flats and walk toward her. She pulls the covers down and gets underneath them, pulling them up to cover her chest. I lean down and pull her into a loose hug as I kiss her cheek. "Good. Get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow. Now your mind should be clear. I'll get my clothes later, okay?"

  "Okay. Whatever you want."

  I walk to the door and stop. "Delta."

  "Yeah?"

  "Just be yourself tomorrow, okay? This is what you're meant to do. If it weren’t, tonight would have never happened. You know I'm a firm believer that things always happen for a reason, whether bad or good. At some point everything will fall into place just as it was predetermined to be. If Kross is interested, give him hell but give in. Occasionally you have to go against the grain. Happy birthday, babe."

  I unlock and open the door before walking through the apartment in search of my purse. It's sitting on the bar next to Delta's decorative glass bowl, etched with a black skull wearing a pink bow that she uses to hold gum and cigarettes. I shake my head. I'll never understand her taste. Gum and cigarettes: with Delta you'll never see one without the other. If you don't know her personally you would never even know she smoked.

  Those cigarettes are tempting and I don't even smoke. My hand traces over the brand name across the front. What the hell? Why not... I've already done all kinds of fucked up shit today. What's one more? All the way or none at all...isn't that an old saying? Fuck it.

  The pack is already packed and open. I grab two cigarettes from the pack and confiscate the lighter, along with a piece of gum. I know she always has extra anyway. They are lying all over the place, most of them with skulls to match the bowl. "Thank you, Delta," I mumble as I grab my purse. I suppose I should get a move on it if I ever want to get home. Catching a cab is going to be a bitch at this time.

  I walk outside the building. The cool breeze of the night air hits my face. It's oddly quiet for a busy city. I prefer the fast pace over abandoned small towns any day. It's why we moved here after graduation, that and to leave Hell behind. This may not be Heaven, but purgatory is still an upgrade.

  I place my purse under my arm and slip the filter end of the cigarette between my lips. Placing one hand in front of the tip to block the breeze, I light the cigarette and suck, letting the vapor enter my mouth.

  I inhale, allowing the calming mixture to invade my lungs.

  "Shit, that's good."

  A nicotine high begins to occur since I don't smoke on a regular basis. It's actually been years since I've touched a cigarette.

  I'm suddenly not in a hurry to go home. Looking from side to side, I decide to take a walk. Most of the alcohol has worn off, but I still have a slight buzz. It's probably not the safest idea, but I've done worse.

  I exhale and take another drag before my feet start to move down the sidewalk. There is no excitement. It seems most have become silent.

  "Please. I didn't mean to. It was an accident. Let me go." The plea of a male's voice flows through the air only feet away. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. My feet don't stop. Feet shuffling on the pavement sounds through my ears. It's getting closer.

  One building ends and another begins, leaving a narrow alley between the two. Why am I still walking toward it? "An accident is once. Four times is fucking murder. There may be nothing to link you, but someone is always watching. Shadows are everywhere."

  Something about that low raspy voice strikes a familiar nerve.

  The cry of the man takes over once again, voicing a string of curses; one inc
luding what most would consider the absolute worst of them all. When referring to damnation, most stray from including God's name, while others obviously love that word, even him.

  "You better make sure when you use his name it's sacred and holy, because you're going to need him on your side after what you've done. Say your prayers."

  I turn into the edge of the alley just as the bullet penetrates his heart, causing the man trapped at the dead end of the alley to fall to his knees as the blood drains from the vital organ. His eyes are wide and he becomes silent. I should run. I should be scared. I should be in shock.... but instead, I find my head falling to the side, intrigued as I watch him take his last breath, still smoking the cigarette.

  Then the killer turns around.

  Everything in my world suddenly stops.

  My heart starts to pound.

  It's him...

  "Kaston," I whisper.

  His eyes lock with mine and I can no longer breathe. Every conscious thought becomes muted. The world around us fades away. The hand holding the gun immediately goes into the front pocket of his hoodie. "Come."

  My feet start to inch forward. I don't hesitate. I don't ask questions. It's as if he has control over my body, my mind, and my soul, controlling me like a puppet. Where fear should be present, desire takes its place.

  I stop approximately three feet in front of him.

  He raises his head, showing more of himself. He's beautiful...

  "Lux."

  My head falls to the side again. "Who are you?"

  "A monster."

  "Why am I having a problem believing that's true?"

  His brow raises and he looks back at the lifeless body on the ground before turning back to me. "Because I kill people. It's a high that I need. Normal people would feel remorse. I don't."

  My heart pounds harder with the finality in his tone. A monster is what he calls himself, but I've never known a monster to be beautiful. He scares me, but he also makes me feel alive.

  He walks forward as I take another drag of my cigarette. It's a few short from being done. I blow out into the air, never veering from his eyes. He's so close I can feel his breath on my lips. I bring the small cigarette toward my mouth but he grabs my wrist and takes it from me. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

  "It should."

  "Why?"

  He places the filter between his lips and finishes it off in one suck, before grabbing the back of my head and pressing his lips to mine, blowing it into my mouth. If it were possible to orgasm without someone even touching your genitals I'm pretty sure I could in this exact moment. Holy fucking hell, where has he been? He may not be dating material, but a little fun never killed anyone. After all, it is officially the beginning of summer. It’s always best to be single for the summer.

  I inhale, taking all that he has to offer. My head falls back slightly, opening my throat even more. He hesitates before closing his lips as he drags them up my mouth, pulling my top lip out before completely releasing it.

  I open my eyes. He puts the butt out on the brick wall and shoves the filter in the pocket of his jeans instead of throwing it on the pavement. "Because you're a liability. You know too much. I have no choice. You've just been marked."

  I loosen the arm hold on my clutch and let it fall into my palm, gripping the bottom as I quickly open it with the other hand. Without a second's thought I pull my handheld pistol from my purse and aim it at his temple the exact moment he mirrors me. Barrel to skin we both stand here, ready to pull the trigger. He looks slightly taken by surprise with the narrowing of his eyes. I press my gun into his temple further, tilting my head for emphasis. "Awe, did you really think a girl like me wasn't packing? Let me tell you a little something about me, baby. I may look like a spoiled princess, but where I come from, cops are scared to enter. This can go down one of two ways: one, you back the fuck up, let me walk away, and we forget each other exists, or two, we become a modern day Romeo and Juliet."

  I step closer, pressing my chest into his, and my barrel into his head so hard it's sure to leave an indention of the outline behind. I lower my voice. "Never underestimate my reflexes. My instincts are sharper than you can fucking wrap your head around...so what's it going to be, handsome?"

  His jaw muscle twitches back and forth as he stares into my eyes so deep it makes me feel naked. Most people would be scared shitless right now, but not me. I'm no stranger to guns. I've owned one since I was big enough to pull the trigger. We didn’t have much, but we had a gun, and I was alone often. If I'm going to die there is nothing I can do about it, but that doesn’t mean I’m going down without a fight. The only way to live is as if the moment could possibly be your last. We are never promised another second. Fear is a weakness. It shows through more than anything else.

  I'm mentally preparing for option two when a smile breaks free; a smile so big it shows in his eyes. Damn, that smile could brighten the darkest room. I remain like I am. I may be melting inside, but I have a control over my muscles that many don't, including facial ones. He lowers his gun, placing it back in his pocket. He grabs my face in his hands and kisses me again, only this time... I want to scream inside. There is a heat in his kiss that burns me from the inside out.

  He releases me and I lower my gun to my side, but he moves his lips closer to my ear. A wave of dizziness takes over. I blink repeatedly, trying to gain my composure. "You just fucked up, beautiful, because one of two things is going to happen: one, I'll find you and I'll kill you because I never leave loose ends, or two, I'll find you and never let you go. Either way, I'm coming for you. Be ready. Now get out of here unless you plan on helping me get rid of this body."

  He takes a step back and I turn off the wall, before I start walking backward. I press the length of my index and middle fingers to my lips, blowing him a kiss. "I'll be waiting."

  After that kiss I hope it's not long...

  After a three-hour drive I pull my silver Porsche into the parking lot of The Watering Hole. This place brings back bad memories, because it reminds me of the years I spent growing up in this fucked up small town. I've been back here maybe once a year since Delta and I left after graduation, usually when Mom needs something because she's a fuck up. Saying that isn't cruel, it's just the way it is.

  Our only goal was to get out of this place. We made a pact freshman year that we would save every dime we could to make it happen. We didn't care about fucking college. Something like that isn't possible when you come from trash. To some people college is an expectation, a pain in the ass required by their parents, but to people like us it's like wishing on a star - useless and a waste of time, because it'll never come true.

  The second we got back from our senior trip we packed everything we owned in Delta's old Volkswagen Beetle and headed north. We didn't even have a destination in mind. We just drove until we decided to stop. Atlanta just seemed to fit and we've been there ever since.

  My hand starts to shake as I shift into neutral and pull the emergency brake. I clench my fist, trying to calm my nerves. I hate coming back here. I look around. The only other car in the parking lot is Mom's beat up Mercury. I'm sure Ella's car is parked out back. I close my eyes and count to ten, trying to take deep breaths in between.

  My one and only fear is to be stuck back here; being her.

  I kill the engine and toss my keys in my purse, before grabbing it out of the passenger seat. Placing my left hand on the door handle, I open the door. "Come on, Lux. Get this shit over with so you can go home," I mumble to myself.

  I stand and look at the building before me as I lock and shut the door to my car. I walk through the front doors, knowing Ella will be working the bar until the night shift picks up. She lives at this bar, literally. This is her life. It's also the only bar for miles, making it the place to be every night of the week. For the most part it's the older crowd from open until nine and the students from the local junior college late at night. That's also usually when the high school kids sneak in. Summers he
re are like what I assume fucking rush week is like at universities. The fresh meat upgrades from field parties and gains their drinking panties before they get shipped off to college - their last chance to be an irresponsible kid.

  Some of us never get that luxury...

  Delta and I have been coming here since we were about fourteen, sneaking flasks inside to drink in the bathroom. Ella let us in because usually our moms were already here and it was safer for her to be able to keep an eye on us than the alternative. She always has been like our second mom, even though she doesn't have kids, nor has she ever been married. She claims she married the damn bar because that was the only lifelong commitment she needed. I'm with her there...

  I look at the bar in the center of the room, but Ella isn't there like I assumed. Instead there is a male bartender wiping down the bar and talking to a blonde female, but she's facing away from me. She laughs, that hideous drunken flirty laugh. I clench my purse to my side and slightly hang my head. This is humiliating; that said blonde being my mother and flirting with a man half her age.

  I walk forward, my wedges clunking against the aged hardwood floor. "For fuck's sake, mother, can't you at least wait until five p.m. to start drinking. Normal people start their day with coffee."

  Her laugh stops.

  The bartender looks at me. He looks familiar, but his face doesn't register with a name. Mom doesn't immediately look at me. Instead, she looks at the shelving filled with alcohol in the center behind the bar. "Lux. You came."

  "Of course. You did need my help, did you not?"

  "I just assumed you would take care of it over the phone."

  "And give out my credit card number? I think not.... Are you ready to become a productive member of society? It's not really classy to smell like a bar before nightfall. Plus, I have to get back to the city. Some of us work for a living." She places her hand on the purse resting on the bar top. Her shoulders hang.

  "Wait. Lux Larsen?"

  I look at the bartender, staring between my mother and I. "Who's asking? Do I know you?"