by Folia Deux
I can’t do that to him, though. So I hang on, wishing I could come, wishing he could push me as far as I want to go.
His fingers dig into my ass as he suddenly stops moving, frozen with his hips canted up. The warmth pulse of him inside me winds like a silk ribbon through my bloodstream, his energy slithering through me. “Fuck,” he whispers. His head bows against my shoulder. “Fuck. I’m so dizzy. I …”
I get my legs underneath me as he sinks to his knees, bracing his hands on the ground. I stroke his hair. “You’ll be okay,” I say gently, bending to look at his face.
“Did I …” He blinks at his pale hands, spread across the grimy cement. He raises his head. “Was that okay for you? I’m sorry, I …” The concern in his eyes is like a blade drawn across my tender skin.
I rear back, my arms reeling as I stagger upright once again. It’s painful, this caring. I don’t understand it. It’s too delicate, too easily crushed and twisted and broken. It squeezes in my chest. Suddenly, I hate this nice, caring, desperate young man. He is impossible to kill, and even hurting him makes me ache. I have never been ashamed of what I am, because this is how I was made. But right now, I wish I was something else, and it makes me want to scream.
“Wait,” he says, his trembling hand reaching for me in the darkness.
“No.” My voice is choked with all of it, regret and rage and unsated need. Dammit. I yank down my skirt and quickly stride out of the alley. Hot and frustrated as hell, I make my way back to my hotel room and stand beneath the searing water of the shower, letting it turn my skin red. I scrub the boy off of me, already knowing I didn’t take enough from him. When Soren comes after me, I have to be ready, and by all rights I should have taken everything from that bartender in preparation for the hunt. Now I have to go back out again.
This time, I need to kill.
I slide on a new dress, a red one that fits me like a second skin. I twist my long, black waves into an updo. I am perfect, crimson lips and white teeth, smooth skin that glows with life and eyes that gleam with invitation. I smile at my reflection in the mirror. I’m going back to the club. I made a mistake with that bartender. He was a wish conjured up by a part of me that I need to stomp beneath my heels. The part that wants gentleness.
Be honest, Mala. The part that wants love.
No. What I want is a meal. What I need is true quarry. And I know exactly who deserves my company tonight.
I stride back into the club, not even looking toward the bar. The arrogant blond, his long legs stretched beneath his table, is leaning back while the curly-haired girl next to him strokes his cock under the table in a way she thinks is subtle but is not. She’s gazing at him with a fond, hopeful sort of look that he’s ignoring, which makes me rather eager to get my hands on him. I saunter over to the table, feeling male eyes follow my path. They want me, though they have no idea how lucky they are that my eyes are riveted on Mr. Tall-blond-and-cocky. He crooks a finger and I move forward, allowing him to believe he has power over me. I lean over the table. His eyes snap to my tits. He shoves the curly-haired girl away and stands up.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come over here for hours,” he says, bowing his head over me, speaking into my ear. “My cock is aching to be in your mouth again.”
I arch my eyebrow and lift my chin. “So romantic.”
His chest rumbles with laughter. “You don’t seem like a girl who’s into romance.”
Too right.
“Jace, when are we leaving?” whines the curly-haired girl.
I look up into Jace’s blue eyes. “How about now?” I suggest, rising on tiptoes and running my tongue along his bottom lip.
His hands close around my waist. “Now.” He takes my hand, and without looking back at the curly-haired girl, leads me to the door. Her what the fuck is cut off when the door to the club slams shut behind us. I guess he wants to be alone with me.
“I live only a few blocks away,” Jace says. He’s squeezing my hand like he’s afraid I’m going to run, and his strides are long like he can’t wait to get me back to his place.
I grin. “Perfect.”
He leads me into his building and up the stairs, then through the door of his apartment. It’s cramped but neat. He flips the lights on and turns to me. “I’m into some kinky stuff,” he says. “I thought you might want to play.”
I slide my hand under his shirt. “I’m always ready to play.”
Jace gives me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and that’s when I realize he wants to hurt me. I arch my eyebrow. I don’t mind it rough, but this guy--there is something in him that goes beyond the desire to dominate. I think he really wants to do damage. In fact, I can smell the faint iron tang of blood, along with the sour edge of fear and suffering. Darling Jace has done some very bad things in this apartment.
My heart speeds. Not with fear. With eagerness. I’m going to destroy him, and it’s going to feel amazing. I’m going to come, and it’s going to kill him.
I slowly unzip my dress, and his smile grows tight as he shoves the straps off my shoulders and yanks it down my hips, ripping it with the urgency of his movements. His hands are trembling. Once I’m standing there in my black heels and lacy red panties, he takes my hand and leads me to his bedroom. As the door swings open, I see his bed, all set up like he planned to have someone here tonight. There is a special metal railing installed on the wooden bedframe, and hanging from it are two sets of handcuffs. On the bedside table lies an assortment of whips, a steel dildo, and lube. Leaning against the bedside table is a spreader bar. Normally, these things would make me wet with desire, but I get the sense that Jace doesn’t always use them on willing partners, which changes the game completely. I can feel the trickle of evil oozing out of him, something he hides well most of the time.
“Where do you want me?” I ask.
He looks at me appraisingly, his thick cock molded against his pants. Then he squeezes his eyes shut and grabs my wrists, roughly leading me to the bed. He shoves me onto it, his fingers grinding against my wrist bones. I grit my teeth and fantasize about looking down at his pale, dead eyes after I’ve killed him. I could easily escape this now. All I have to do is disappear, and that would be that. But that’s not what I want.
He pushes me forward until I have to grasp the railing on his headboard, and then he cuffs first one wrist and then the other. I’m on my knees, my legs pressed together. Playing coy is going to make him crazy. He gets onto the bed behind me and straddles my knees, then bucks his hips against my ass. “If it were up to me,” he snarls, “I’d fuck you into submission myself.”
His words freeze me up. “What?” I whisper, alarm bells sounding off inside my head.
“I’d ram my cock into your ass while you begged for mercy,” he continues, his teeth right by my ear. “But that’s not what he paid me to do.”
Any retort is stuck in my throat. I’m cuffed, nearly naked … and Jace has been paid to make it happen. Panic surges through me and I will myself invisible, needing to get away.
Nothing happens. I’m solid and stuck, and Jace is gripping my hips so hard that I am certain bruises are forming beneath his hands. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying again, imagining sliding into the ether, his fingers flexing over open air.
Nothing happens.
That’s when I sense Soren in the room. I look over my shoulder to see him standing in the doorway, staring at Jace. And when Jace becomes aware that he’s being watched, he nearly tumbles backward in his eagerness to get off the bed. My flesh throbs with pain and heat where his hands used to be.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” he says to Soren, his words strung together with no space between them. “I did like you asked.” He gestures at me.
Soren regards him with a completely cool expression. “You will find the balance of what I promised you in your account tomorrow morning. Do not come back here until six.”
Jace’s head bobs eagerly. He looks back at me, chained to his b
ed, struggling uselessly against the cuffs.
“I’m going to kill you,” I promise him. It’s more of a growl than anything else. And it scares him. He gives Soren a nervous look.
Soren’s lips curl into an amused smile. “Come now. She looks pretty harmless, doesn’t she?” The smile falls away. “Leave now.”
Jace leaves. Soren and I stare at each other until we hear the front door slam and Jace’s boots on the stairs. “You look beautiful that way, Mala,” Soren says quietly.
“You’re a cowardly bastard,” I snap, jerking at the cuffs. For the life of me, I can’t go invisible. Soren is so powerful that he can keep me here.
He chuckles. “I never said I would play fair.” He takes a few steps toward the bed, his gaze slipping along my spine like a caress and settling on my ass. “Not when the prize is so fine. Not when you’re all I’ve thought about for months.”
I look away from his beautiful face and cruel smile. Staring at the wall, I whisper, “You mean my power. My power is what you’ve thought about.”
“Really?” His shoes clomp to the wood floor and the bed dips beneath his weight. The warmth of him is at my back a few seconds later. His fingertips skim up my thighs. “That’s what I told myself for the first few months, too,” he murmurs.
My fingers are white-knuckling the bar. His fingers move over the place where Jace sank his fingers into my flesh, and I hiss as he touches the sore spots. Soren makes a low, menacing noise in his throat. His nose grazes my shoulder blade, his heated breath fanning over my skin. Against every survival instinct I have, I shiver. My nipples draw tight, little points of painful tension. Goosebumps ripple across my skin. Soren inhales sharply, his fingers rising to circle those hard, taut buds. “Tell me you want it,” he says, his voice low and seductive in my ear.
“Go to hell,” I whisper.
He laughs, a sensuous rumble that I feel low in my belly. I’m dying for him to touch me.
And I’ll die if I let him.
He plants the most delicate of kisses on my shoulder, and it is so sweet that I can’t stifle my moan. I feel him smile against my skin right before he does it again and again and again, each touch of his lips to my flesh making liquid desire coil inside me.
His hand is on my waist, his fingers stroking the hollow of my hip, and my rebellious body responds, tingling with the wish for those fingers to slide lower, to take possession of my pussy. Soren takes his time, though, a gentle and deadly seduction that has me caught like a fly in his web. The heady poison of his lips on my neck makes me whimper. “Tell me you want it,” he says again.
“No,” I try to say, but there is no volume, no air. I merely shape my lips around the word.
He skims my hair off my back and over my shoulder, and then his hot mouth is at the nape of my neck, his tongue sliding down the bumps of my backbone, making my pussy clench. My ass jerks back before I can think to stop it, offering itself to him. His huff of laughter is brief but painful to me.
How could I be so stupid? Why am I so weak? He doesn’t want me. He wants what I have.
But I do want him, and that’s why he’s going to win. The truth of it is like a knife through my heart. I clamp my lips together as he reaches the base of my spine, my desire soaking the silky fabric of my lace panties. His teeth scrape over the tender flesh of my ass, and I cry out.
“You want this, Mala. All you have to do is say it,” he says softly, sliding his tongue beneath the edge of the fabric.
I want it so badly that I’m willing to die for it.
No, no you don’t, screams a voice in my head. I bite my tongue.
He hums his mocking disapproval, slowly inching the fabric of my panties down, revealing more and more of me. “I can smell your need,” he whispers, snaking his tongue along my ass crack. “I want to taste it.”
I sob with want, shaking my head to keep myself from begging for it, from begging him to slide his long, thick cock inside my tight cunt and fuck me until I have nothing left. He’s the only one who can make me come, the only one who can make me scream his name.
And I think he knows that.
His tongue flicks over my asshole and laps at my pussy, making us both moan. My panties are tight around my thighs, making it impossible for me to spread my legs, which is exactly what I want to do, especially as he presses his face against me, devouring my pussy with greedy strokes of his tongue. The tension inside me winds in a spiral along my bones, trembling inside my gut, my chest, making my hands clench the rail for a completely different reason now. My hips undulate as his movements become rhythmic sliding from my clit and into my slippery hole at just the right speed to drive me wild. I moan, needing just a little more, a little more …
He stops.
My cunt throbbing for him, I look over my shoulder to see his calculating smile. My juices glisten on his lips, and he licks them clean and moans, a deadly, seductive noise. My need is a physical ache inside me, destroying me, making me tremble. His eyebrow arches. He’s waiting.
I close my eyes. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“I need to come. Please.” My cheeks are burning with quiet rage and fiery desire. I want to kill him and fuck him and let him burn me to the ground.
I’ll only get two of those three, though, and both of us know it.
“I’ll make it easy this time, Mala,” he says. His hips press against my back. He’s still wearing all his clothes.
He’s perfectly in control. He’s not letting himself get lost tonight. He’s the gentle executioner, the patient, seductive murderer. His hands slide over my body, his fingers delving between my legs as the shaft of his cock nestles between my ass cheeks, only the fabric of his pants between us--but that feels like too much. He strokes my already soaked cunt and slides two of his fingers deep inside while his thumb caresses my clit. With his other hand, he rolls one of my pink nipples between his thumb and forefinger. His teeth close over my shoulder and he rocks against me. He’s all around me, his citrusy scent in my nose, his silky hair brushing against my skin, and that’s all it takes. My pussy clenches around his fingers and I writhe, coming against his hand, coming undone in his arms. My vision spots as he greedily siphons the energy from me. My body shudders as I lose control. The last thing I see is the headboard rushing up to collide with my face.
Chapter Four
I stir as I feel myself being moved. Blinking at the ceiling, I tense as the handcuffs click into place and my back sinks onto soft sheets. I’m still alive.
For now.
The cool air of the apartment on my tender flesh tells me that I’m completely naked now. I am dimly aware of gentle pressure, of warm hands sliding over my skin. Massaging my legs with oil, moving upward. Each firm stroke is a moment of heaven, and my body grows more pliant and relaxed despite the muffled alarm buried somewhere deep in my brain. His hands caress each part of me, up my ribs to my breasts, across my shoulders. Gradually, Soren’s painfully handsome face comes into focus. There’s a somber, meditative look to him, a reverence, like he’s handling a precious artifact or a sacred text.
“Preparing for the final blow, aren’t you?” I murmur.
He doesn’t meet my eyes, but there’s a flash of anger in his. “Mercy is for the weak,” he says through clenched teeth.
I feel the words like a slap across my face. He’s saying I was weak for letting him live, and he’s right. I was. I had him at my mercy, and if I had only done then what he’s doing now, I would have won.
“Then don’t be a coward, Soren,” I say. “You will never feel like a victor if you don’t take me on with your whole self. No matter what happens, you’ll know you played it safe.”
The side of his mouth curls. “I couldn’t drain you with just my fingers or tongue, Mala, even if I wanted to. You’re too strong for that.”
He moves off the bed and starts unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his chest, every muscle taut and sculpted, his skin deliciously tan. My breath hitches.
Since he means to finish me, that means he’s going to fuck me. Desire trickles through my bloodstream as I watch him slide his pants down his lean hips. His eyes are riveted on my pussy as he steps out of them. “You’re already wet for me. So eager for your own destruction.” He crawls onto the bed and dips his head to lave my cunt. “Or maybe you think you can get the better of me like you did last time?”
Maybe I do.
I spread my legs, giving him full access. “Do your worst, then?”
He grins. “You haven’t seen my worst.” And then, in a quick, sudden movement, he grasps my ankles and raises my legs, pressing them closed and bending me so that I’m staring at my own knees.
And my pussy and ass are at his mercy. He confirms my fear a moment later when I feel the cold slide of lube against my puckered asshole. My breath quickens. My hands rattle the handcuffs. The plump, round head of his cock nudges at my entrance, massaging, probing slowly. “You’re going to take this and more,” he says.
A movement to my left makes me turn my head in time to see Soren’s hand close over the steel dildo, and a second later, I feel the cool, unyielding metal slip over my clit. I moan and buck, need taking me over.
Still holding my legs in the air, Soren continues to apply gentle pressure against my ass as he plays the dildo over my slick cunt, my throbbing clit. Slowly, my lubed, slippery asshole dilates, opening for him. I hear a low sound in his chest, pure animal lust, as he presses his cock inward, unhurried and merciless in his certainty. He’s going to take me deep and hard, and this will end me. But I have to have it.
I gasp as the head of his cock slips inside my ass, clenching around him. He groans and curses. Then he slides the steel dildo all the way into my pussy. “Soren,” I whimper, as he allows my legs to settle on his shoulders, his chest pressing against the backs of my calves. His face is rigid with concentration as he penetrates my ass, pushing his long, thick cock in all the way, until his balls are flush against my skin. The pressure is unbelievably intense as the movements of his body push the cock-shaped rod deeper into my pussy.
