by Nora Flite
Lying on my back, dressed in nothing but my boxers, I was coated in drops of sweat. Noel had given me insomnia like no one else—nothing else.
One crack, two crack, three crack...
Rolling on my side, I stared at the clock; eleven p.m. I hadn't turned the lights off, it was pointless. I knew I couldn't sleep. Having Noel on my mind was akin to having an itch. Until I scratched it, I'd find no relief.
Again, the ceiling. Again, I counted. One, two, three... Each discolored line reminded me of her skin. The pattern I'd created on her with my fingers and teeth.
Fuck.
Sitting up, I brushed my hair from my forehead. I knew the cure for what ailed me. I also knew where to find it.
Slipping on a thin grey shirt, jeans and boots, I crawled into my jacket and let the door slam behind me. It was brisk out, free of rain and clouds. The moon was half a coin, glinting in a black puddle.
On my motorcycle, I tore down the thin streets of Paris. I didn't wear a helmet; I didn't care about the risk. I'd lived all my days in a forgetful blur. Death was an eventual reality, if it happened while I flew through the night air, fine.
I was a bloodhound on the scent; rabid, in heat. The engine roared. Around a corner, I saw the apartment up ahead. It was easy to find, Lavender House was only a few streets down from Rosella studio.
Guiding my bike down an alley, I leaned it on a wall. My ears were ringing, the tips burning from the weather. I circled the building; a shark, seeking my prey. I wasn't sure which room was hers. Noel could have been behind any of them.
A reminder, I didn't care if I was wrong. I'd smash every glass pane if I was, eventually, right.
The first pebble missed the window; tapped off the wood beside it. Crouching, I scooped up three more and fired them one by one. On target, each of them hit. The glass 'pinged' in the quiet of the night.
I had bent to grab more rocks when the window peeled outward. Her hair tumbled loose around her shoulders. Noel strained out over the ledge. I saw her stunned face; hoped she could see my wide smile.
Raising a hand, I made a little motion. Speaking might have been easier... but I was sure she knew what I wanted.
Why I had come for her.
Shutting the window, Noel vanished from view. Confident she was coming down, I rolled my motorcycle to the front of the street. Minutes after I'd seen her, Noel slipped through the front door. She was dressed in sneakers, sweat pants and a winter coat. Standing on the top step, she hovered beside the cracked door. “Carter? What's going on, why are you here?”
In answer, I crossed the distance. Gripping her shoulders, I shoved her against the old wood. Two sounds; her muffled groan, and the door being forced shut.
She wouldn't be going back inside anytime soon.
I held her close, braced my lips on hers and shoved harder against the door. I wanted to feel the wood grain pushing through her back, passing through her body and into my lungs. If it was possible to crush myself against Noel and make our bodies fuse, I'd have done it.
Butterflies, her fingers brushed my neck. They turned into talons, trying to push me away. I obliged reluctantly, wondering what she was trying to tell me. “Slow down,” she hissed. She looked around restlessly. Fear that wasn't caused by me. “Not here. We can't do this, someone will see.”
I put my thumb on her lower lip, pulled it down show her teeth. I kissed her again, ran my tongue over each of her little grooves in the roof of her mouth. Noel was panting when I allowed her to catch her breath. “You don't want to be seen?” I teased.
“I—aren't you worried?”
Laughing loudly, the night absorbed the sound. Noel quivered, eyes shooting, seeking invisible faces. She was terrified of what I'd bring down on us. “Do I look like I give a shit who sees?”
Something was clearly on her mind; she wasn't buckling. “I'm just worried,” she whispered. “What we're doing, it's not... I mean I could get in serious trouble.”
“Noel,” I chuckled, “Are you that oblivious?” Hooking my hands onto her hips, I lifted her up, cradled her tight ass. “You're in trouble right now, sweet girl.” Using the door to help support her, my free hand ripped the front of her jacket open. Her whimper was a warning; she was seriously anxious.
Distantly, I understood her fear. I didn't share it, but it wasn't irrational. The ceiling for my perverseness was high. I wanted to cause her this panic, was caught up in how she squirmed. My need to touch her, to hold her and make her squeal, had driven me here at almost midnight.
It was delicious to see her tangled up in such an uncomfortable spot; fighting her arousal for me alongside her shame in being caught. Getting spotted by the police for indecency would do little for the mood, though. I set her down, my arm around her middle. Easily, I pulled her towards my motorcycle.
“Where are we going?” she blurted.
Setting her on the back of the bike, sitting in front of her, I revved the engine. Her arms hooked around my stomach. “If you don't want to do this here,” I said, just loud enough to be heard over the rumbling, “I know somewhere with more privacy.
We tore down the street, her grip tightening on me like a vice. I wondered if it was the first time she ever been on a motorcycle. The thrill of something so powerful—something besides me, I mused—between her thighs.
The cool air wasn't enough to soothe the fire in my belly. My loins were stoked, ready to feel Noel writhing under me, to hear her scream in my ear. I went faster than I should of; reckless speeds that would have left us smashed on the cobblestones. Tires argued as I came to a quick halt in front of my apartment.
Rolling the bike into the garage, I locked it in place. Noel accepted my help off the bike. Her hair was wild from the wind. Apples bloomed on her cheeks and stars dance in her eyes. She looked more alive than ever. Fuck, I can't take this.
In that filthy, dark tomb, I kissed her again; fused my tongue with hers. Noel was so eager to meld against me. She purred a small sound of pleasure, shaking in my arms. If I didn't get her upstairs now, I'd bend her over and bury my erect cock inside of her next to the rusty cars.
I hooked her up against me, held her close. There were three flights up to my apartment; I cleared them in minutes. Running at full speed, my keys jingled, agile fingers making quick work of my own lock. And then we were inside, the door clicking.
We were alone alone in a way we hadn't been before. No one could potentially interrupt us. If anyone heard the sounds she made, they wouldn't even knock. I knew my building. Tenants here wanted to be left alone, like me. We didn't even meet eyes when we passed in the hallway.
In here, we might as well have been on the moon.
She tried to look around. “Is this your place?”
“More or less.” More or less? Why had I said that? Stepping over piles of newspapers and books, I understood. Noel was the first person to see where—how—I lived. I hadn't been ashamed before, what did someone's opinion matter? Don't worry what she thinks, I commanded myself. But my guts were tightening.
Peering over her head on my chest, I tried to see what she might see. Clutter, a lack of caring about what was where. It wasn't filthy, I did throw out food, dusted so I didn't perpetually sneeze, but the rooms lacked warmth. Suddenly, I didn't want to look at them.
I smothered Noel under me on the couch. Between us, she started to struggle. Second thoughts? I asked myself. Sitting up, I watched her undo her jacket. She wasn't trying to escape. She still hadn't attempted it.
Noel threw her coat, reached for mine. Kneeling on her legs, I held perfectly still as she stripped the heavy clothing away. It joined hers on the floor. I couldn't stop watching her face; Noel's eyes were glistening, her lips plump from my rough kisses. Nothing about her screamed worry or fear or regret.
She'd cried out the other day, fluctuated between lust and terror. I knew she had! I'd seen it, recognized it. I had prepared myself to need to lure her more. We were alone in my home, she'd felt what I could do to her—why w
as she always so fucking eager?
Noel went to lift my shirt; I grabbed her wrists. “Stop.” The word was strained. In my jeans, my dick was pressing painfully on the back of my zipper.
“Why?” she sat up under me, her eyebrows knotting together.
My thumbs made circles on the backs of her hands. “Why? Because I don't think you get the gravity of your situation.”
“You think I should be scared of you still. Is that it? Carter, I'm really not!” I didn't correct her about calling me by my first name. When had I stopped caring? She leaned closer, like she wanted to kiss me. Unless I shortened the gap, she couldn't reach. “What am I supposed to be afraid of?”
In a quick motion, I let her go; yanked at her thin blue sweater. It went over her head, left her long hair in a tangle. Disheveled, her white skin exposed—the contrasting dark blemishes all over her—she was beyond flawless. “This, you naive idiot! You should be scared of this!” Faced with the marks I'd made, my psyche was going wild.
Noel flushed, hands covering her breasts. She hadn't put a bra on under her clothes before coming downstairs to meet me. “It's nothing, I just... bruise easily.”
“Is that how you justify your decision to follow me so willingly?” Rocking forward, I pushed my chest on her, yanked her arms down by our hips. Through my shirt, I felt the plushness of her tits and shivered. “You tell yourself it's not my fault?”
Her body flexed, knees coming up on either side of my thighs. Already she was wiggling, heart punching at me through her ribs. “It's not your fault. No more than mine.”
For a second, the claws that came for my mind retreated. Was she right? The way I was, the things I wanted to do, could they really not be my fault?
I brushed my nose on hers, felt our eyelashes tickle. “I like hurting you, Noel. Don't pretend I don't.”
“I know you won't go too far.”
My laugh was short, empty. “You have no idea what too far is! God, did no one teach you to be scared of monsters?”
Closing her eyes, she breathed in deep. When she looked back at me, the blue heat in her eyes was hypnotizing. “I was taught not to run from the things I want.”
The way she said that... want... it slid into my veins. It mixed with the poison that wanted to infect her, and that was already infecting me. She wants me? Impossible, Noel couldn't understand who—what—I was.
Lifting my arms, I stroked the side of her neck. “So you want me to hurt you?” I whispered into her ear. “I'm happy to prove these bruises have everything to do with me, and nothing to do with the strength of your skin.”
Her hands were free. She used them to grab my lower back; I locked up in surprise. “Carter... I chose to follow you here.”
I paused to digest that. “If you stay with me, you're going to regret it.”
Nails slid over my spine, caused my cock to twitch. “Are you giving me a chance to leave, then?”
“No,” I breathed out, pushing myself up. Noel was smiling coyly; that faded as she saw the hard line of my mouth, the cloaking shadows in my eyes. “After I first tasted you, I knew I couldn't let you escape.” I ran a hand into her hair and smiled. “You never had a chance.”
Bending her head back, that long neck became my target. My tongue ran up, felt her goosebumps. She was already whimpering before I bit down; nipped her salty skin. She thought the blemishes I left were her fault? Noel needed to learn.
I did what I did for me.
It was always because of me.
Barbed tendrils dug into my conscience. I was flush with desire, ready to prove my point. I knew what I was. Why didn't Noel? After our first encounter, I thought I'd have to work hard to get her alone with me. I'd hoped, after class, to take her aside until everyone else left. Her friends had stolen her, though. Accidentally saved her from me.
My body was electric. I bent her over the arm of the couch, watched her hair pool on my floor. Her breasts were forced high; too tempting to ignore. Circling a hard nipple with my lips, I shuddered violently.
“Ah!” Noel gasped, raking my back, trying to regain control. That wouldn't happen. She had no center of balance here. The woman was forced to endure my tongue on her chest, fingers keeping her head down, the other hand squeezing her hip.
I wanted to feel her skin on mine. She made a confused noise when I released her. “Relax,” I chuckled, peeling my shirt away. “I'm not stopping, if you were worried about that.”
Hard muscles ground against pliant breasts. It sent tingles into my lower belly, made my mind fade further under the consuming beast of lust and destruction. The hand in her hair shifted. It crawled to her throat; her nervous squeak was pure temptation. I wanted to fuck her, to claim her, to make her scream for help and hear her mewl in pleasure.
It'd be so easy, choking her with just one palm. It even fit, lined up with the bruises from before. Her pulse rippled, a river of life in the mercy of my desire. There was someone screaming in my head. No, my memory. Someone who deserved to die. Deserved to have blood bubble from his twisting lips.
Not Noel. Fuck, she doesn't need that!
And... I didn't want that.
Invisible hands yanked at my essence, threatened to rip me into pieces. I found sanity in Noel. She was an anchor for my growing madness. I held her neck, not squeezing. I couldn't make myself let go entirely. Reaching between us, I slid her sweatpants down her creamy thighs. The front of her panties were dripping. In my skull, I heard her moaning. I clung to that.
Stroking the lips of her pussy through the material, I felt how engorged they were. Noel was turned on as much—or more than—even me. Breathing faster, I buried my hand under the elastic band. Instantly she whimpered, fidgeting to get my fingers inside of her. “Please,” she hushed, “Carter, please! God, I need you!”
I felt a new crack spreading in my heart. I didn't have time to wonder what it was, what it meant. Kneeling over her, I tore my jeans down my legs.
Noel tried to get off of the couch arm; that wasn't going to happen. Pushing her back over the edge, her head nearly on the floor, I took my cock in one fist. In the yellow lights, I saw the marks blooming on her throat. They stretched up, tentacles that wanted more of her and couldn't get it.
I pushed the thick head of my prick along her slick inner thighs. Each stroke teased her, made her gulp. “Carter, stop,” she begged me. I loved that. I needed her to beg. “Just do it, I'm going crazy!”
“Good.” I pumped my cock, let it glide over her cunt. “Now you know what it's like to be me.” And... truly... I did want her to know. It was impossible, Noel could never glean who I was or how my mind worked. The things I'd seen, done—I could never tell her, let alone expect her to understand. Giving her a taste of the excruciating craving I had for her all the god damn time would have to do.
Noel tried to wrap her legs around me and guide me inside of her. Snarling, I grabbed one of her knees, pushed it against her stomach. She was amazingly flexible, reminding me that I had at my mercy a dancer who put my skills to shame.
Even back then, when I'd been so good—so ready to excel—if she'd shown up, she'd have crushed me, I thought bitterly.
My fingertips made pale indents; she cried out. It put me over the brink. Heaving, I sank my painfully hard cock into her welcoming body. Her pussy was rippling, demanding I go deeper. With me crushing her leg and her back bent painfully to a full arch, Noel still tried to stuff more of me in her.
Could she have meant it, what she'd said? I was taught to go after what I want. Her claim was bold; reckless.
But if it was true...
Distantly, as I felt myself sinking into a world of liquid pleasure, I wondered if I could remember a single person who had ever really, entirely, wanted me.
Under my weight, Noel was screaming. Not a scream of fear, her throat was raw with joy. She met my hips, bounced as much as she could to get more of me. The sound of us fucking was obscene.
She couldn't reach my back with her hands in the po
sition I'd placed her. Instead, she linked her fingers in my hair and held tight. Nails scraped my scalp, sent thrills into my core. At the point her wet walls began milking me, fluttering with the heat of her orgasm, I was nearing my breaking point.
My vision melted; I saw nothing but black fuzz and pricks of light. I was slamming into her, drowning in her gritty moans. My muscles moved fast enough that I knew her hips would be sore. Mine might be, too.
“Carter,” she panted, “Carter, I'm—God, I'm...” Sweat spilled off of me, landing on her cheek. Blue eyes gaped, and in spite of my daze, I saw how she looked. Saw Noel, saw her parted lips and that pure grimace of bliss.
She scratched me, leaving searing desire in her wake. With her knees shaking, Noel came with a final, breathy sob. The sensation of her clinging so hard, every inch of her so openly seeking me out, holding on so I couldn't leave, sent me over. My cock swelled, thick streams of my seed the final action to get me as close to her as possible. My twitching made her twitch, sparking pleasure that wandered close to delirium.
Grunting, I slumped forward over the couch and crushed her in my arms. The musky scent of cherries and sex hit me, my nose on her temple. With her ear so close, I fought down the urge to say... something. What? I wondered. What can I even say right now?
I felt on the cusp of being fully satisfied. A bliss that had eluded me since three years ago. What did I want—need—from this girl?
And I wondered, as I held her tight and thought about the fresh bruises on her throat, how I could dare ask for it in the first place.
****
The drive back to Lavender House was a quiet one. We shared the wind, the rumble of my bike, and that was all. My brain was a mess and I hated to feel so lost. I'd been living a half-life, a dying thing.
Something new was forcing roots into my heart. It shoved aside the beast's razors, fought to get a hold on me. I was being transformed by the day... by the hour.
What was I changing into?
Pulling up to the steps, I parked the bike and climbed off. Noel jumped free, landing at my side. In the cool night, she'd zipped her jacket high. The reddish, broken skin of her throat was still visible.
