by B. B. Hamel
The truth is, I want him more than I can explain. I need him, really. I need him to explain to me what’s happening inside of me, why I suddenly want to kill, why I’m no longer afraid of embracing it. I need him to show me how to do it.
Most of all I need him to make me feel again. When he touches my body, it’s like a veil is lifted from my face and I can suddenly experience the world in all of its intensity again. Noah makes me feel that, all of it, every inch of the world around me. His skin, his kiss, his touch lights the world back up and makes the fuzz in my brain disappear.
I don’t know how or why, but he does it. Something changed for me that night when he took me, and slowly through the days we’ve been together I’ve come awake to that change. I’m a different person, and although it scares me, it also excites me beyond my ability to explain.
So instead of killing him, I’m kissing him. I knew it would come to this. In his killing room, surrounded by his implements of death, he presses his body against mine and takes me.
His hand is hard against my wrist as he kisses me, holding me tough against him. I moan into his kiss, every ounce of desire and need overflowing into him. I needed this moment more than I realized, and I know that I’m ready.
I could have run away earlier today. But I didn’t want to. I saw a bunch of opportunities, but I just ignored them all. I know where I want to be, and it’s with Noah.
He turns me and presses my ass against the workbench. He swipes away his tools, sending them flying onto the ground, then lifts me up and sits me down in front of him. He slams me back against the wall, kissing me hard. I wrap my arms around his neck as he presses in between my legs.
I gasp as his lips find my neck. “I knew this is what you’d choose,” he whispers. “Since the moment you touched yourself for me, I knew you couldn’t stop yourself. You’re mine now and you know it.”
“Noah,” I moan as his fingers pull open my jeans. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
“Good.” He smirks at me, taking my hair in his hand. He tips my head back, sending s sharp bit of pain through my scalp as his other hand slips down underneath my panties and finds my soaking clit.
Pleasure and pain. That’s what Noah is. He’s my darkness and my joy. His fingers tease my clit as he holds my hair firmly, chin in the air, throat exposed to him. He kisses my neck as his fingers slide inside of me, sending deep shivers of pleasure through my entire spine.
I writhe against him, desperate for his fingers to keep doing their dirty work. I moan as he slides them in and out, pushing deeper and pulling back. His lips press against mine again, tongue touching my own, before he pulls his hand from my jeans. I gasp and whine a bit but he pulls my shirt off over my head, tossing it aside.
His lips tease my nipples as he squeezes my breasts together. I love the way he handles me, rough but sensual, like he can’t hold himself back. He breathes in my smell and I feel a shiver run down my spine as he pulls me off the bench and turns me around.
I support myself with my hands flat on the bench top as he pulls down my jeans from behind. I watch him over my shoulder as he stands and teases my exposed pussy. I can feel the cool basement air against my soaking clit as his fingers slowly slide inside of me, fucking me from behind.
I dip my head forward then whip it back as he slaps my ass hard. I gasp and stare at him, mouth hanging open. He grins and takes my hair in his hand, wrapping it over his palm, and then slaps my ass again.
“Don’t struggle,” he says softly. “This is my pussy, my ass. I can do whatever I want with it.”
He teases me by pressing his fingers deep inside of me again before slapping my ass. The mix of pleasure and pain overwhelms me again.
He releases my hair and I watch as he unbuckles his belt and slides his pants off. He pulls his shirt over his head and I stare at his muscular body and the tattoos that snake up along his skin. He’s gorgeous and dangerous and everything that I want, need, and yearn for.
He slides off his boxer briefs and I watch as he slowly strokes his thick, hard cock. He steps up behind me and teases my wet pussy with his tip, sliding it up and down. He takes my hair again and pulls me back toward him.
“Beg,” he says simply.
“Please, Noah,” I whisper. “I need it. I can’t stop thinking about you deep inside of me.”
“You want me to fill you up?”
“Yes,” I moan. “Please. I want you to come deep inside of me.”
“Filthy fucking girl,” he says softly then pushes me down again.
I gasp as he slides himself deep inside of me.
It’s that perfect mix of pleasure and pain again. His cock is thick and long and he stretches me out as he pushes deep between my legs. But it feels so fucking good to finally have him inside of me that the slight aching pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter.
“Fuck, girl,” he grunts. “You’re so fucking tight.”
He slams deeper inside of me, pulling my hair back. His other hand squeezes my breast, teases my nipple, and he begins to fuck me.
His cock slides in and out slowly at first, but deep and firm. I can’t believe I’m getting fucked by a serial killer in the place where he keeps all of his knives, but that only makes me more excited. We’re surrounded by death as he fucks me, and I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.
His cock slams deep inside of me, fucking me rougher. I twist my hips and buck back against him, taking his every inch. He spanks me again, rough and hard. I love the feeling of his callused palm against my smooth ass.
“You like that, don’t you?” he whispers in my ear. “You like that I slap this perfect tight ass, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I moan, his cock sliding deep inside of me.
“You like a little pain.” I feel him pull out of me and I turn around to watch him bend over and pick up his belt. He folds it in half and smirks at me as I stare at him, a little bit of fear coming into the pit of my stomach.
He slaps my ass with the belt. Not hard, but enough to feel it. I gasp as he reaches around my hips and finds my clit. As soon as he touches me, I can feel the pain mingle with the pleasure, making my entire body shake.
He slaps me with the belt again and again. Not so hard that I cry out, but hard enough to leave a red mark. All the while he works my clit.
“I knew you’d like this,” he says. “I can see it in you. We’re alike, me and you.”
“How?” I ask him. He slaps me again and I groan.
“You like pain,” he says. “A little pain makes the pleasure that much sweeter. But it’s more than that.”
He grabs my hips and spins me around, pressing his mouth against mine. I kiss him back eagerly, starving, needing it. He pulls me and lifts me back up onto the work bench, pulling my ass to the edge of the table and lifting my legs up. He presses his cock deep inside of me and I gasp, moaning, head pressed against the wall.
He reaches up and his hand takes my throat gently but firmly. “You have it inside of you, too,” he says. “The darkness. You’re a filthy, needy little girl that wants my big fucking cock.”
“Noah,” I moan as he fucks me. He’s not holding back anymore, I can see it in his eyes. My body is dripping sweat at this point from the exertion and the sheer pleasure.
He’s gorgeous as his cock slides in and out of me. His muscles are tense and hard and I can see how much strength he has inside of him. He could break me to pieces if he wanted to, but instead he works my body just the right way, pushing me along that fine edge of pleasure and pain.
This is all pleasure, though, as his cock slams deep inside of me. He takes his thumb and begins to work my clit, and I know that I’m close. My moans come faster, deeper, as he continues to work me, fucks me, ruts me, slides himself deep inside of me.
“Keep going,” I beg him. “Just like that. I want to come so badly.”
“Good,” he says. “Come on my big cock, Amelia. Come for me like the bad girl you are.”
I ca
n feel it crest and slide through me. The orgasm is intense, more intense than anything I’d ever experienced before. For a second, the world goes white as the pleasure explodes through my body. I can dimly feel my muscles tense and grip the bench but the only thing I can really experience is pure bliss rushing through me.
And then I’m back to reality. I reached forward and pull him toward me, kissing his lips, greedy and needing his touch. He continues fucking me, faster now, deeper, and I work my hips with him.
“Fuck girl,” he groans, and I can feel him come inside of me.
His hot cum fills me as his body tenses and he groans. He thrusts deep into me, filling me, and it’s an entirely new pleasure.
Slowly, he winds down and pulls out. I collapse into his arms and he holds me there, standing against the workbench, our breaths synched and deep. For a second, I’m not sure where I end and he begins.
It’s a dizzying feeling as he slowly pulls back and brushes the hair from my face. “Good girl,” he says, a smirk on his lips.
I smile, smack his chest, and then kiss him gently again.
It shocks me how normal it feels to be held by him. Only a few days ago I was thinking about how I might be able to escape, though I knew it wasn’t going to happen. Now I’m thinking about helping him, getting involved with him. I can’t tell if I’m insane or sick, but at this point, I don’t know if I care.
This is what I want now. Or at least he’s what I want. Noah is unlike any man I’ve ever met before, and I don’t want to let that go.
I only hope that I can step up when the time comes.
17
Noah
There’s a slow and steady rain falling from the sky. That makes things a little more difficult, but it shouldn’t be a problem. I glance across the street and spot Amelia in position, her hood up masking her expression, but I suspect she’s smiling.
Three days have passed since I took her in my killing room. We haven’t done that since, though the pressure and the tension is still very strong between us. We’ve been too busy preparing for this moment.
Amelia picked this stuff up faster than I thought she would. She’s obviously not ready to do anything on her own, not yet at least, but she’ll make for a workable second. Her instructions are simple: hang back, observe, and run if things go bad.
I have the real job.
Mark Sheer, the pedophile bastard, steps out from the coffee shop. He looks both ways down the street, obviously trying to see if I’m following him, before heading off down the block. I fall into step, keeping a fair distance back, staying cautious. On the other side of the street, Amelia begins to move, keeping pace.
Ryan has been following Sheer every night since we last met up with him, and apparently he has been visiting this sex slave brothel more often. Probably the anxiety caused by catching me following him has pushed him to embrace his demons. That’s good for us, since I don’t want to wait too long to take him. As far as I can tell, Sheer is following his usual routine tonight, and is headed toward the west side of town to fuck some underage girl.
And when he does, he’ll lead us right to the bastards.
Sheer walks fast and keeps looking around wildly. He’s so obvious, but most normal people wouldn’t even notice him. He clearly is checking for tails, trying to spot someone following him, but he won’t spot me tonight. I’m not making any mistakes. This is way too important.
I reach into my pocket and clutch the syringe. Amelia knows the plan, and it’s a simple one. When Sheer goes into the brothel, I’ll leave and get the van while Amelia sticks around and watches the entrance. After Sheer leaves the brothel, I sneak up on him, stick him in the neck with the syringe, and then together we hustle his body into the van.
The rain is steady and soon Sheer is forced to put up an umbrella. That actually makes it easier to follow him because his umbrella is a light blue color, very distinct. I pull my head up tighter and keep my distance, watching as the umbrella bobs and weaves through traffic.
We follow him like that for blocks. I’m surprised that he doesn’t take a bus or a cab, but he probably has his reasons. Maybe doesn’t want to risk getting recognized by a driver or something like that. Either way, he slowly makes his way out west, and the city begins to change.
We started in a residential area, but by the time we’ve been walking for a half hour, the population is much less dense. Houses are spread out and there are more industrial buildings all around us. I’m forced to stay as far back as possible because I can’t just blend in with the crowd out here.
Soon, he turns down an alleyway and closes his umbrella. I catch Amelia’s eye and nod at her. I creep forward and watch as Sheer disappears into a building.
It’s an old office building with a “For Rent” sign in the front window. I’m guessing it’s not actually available, since the inside is being used for an illegal sex slave brothel. I make a note of the address then double back to meet with Amelia.
She’s leaning against a stoop, watching me. “Well?” she asks.
“He’s inside.” I point at the building. “In there. The entrance is in an alleyway down the side.”
“Okay.” She looks resolved and absolutely beautiful.
I step forward and gently take her chin, forcing her to look at me. “Are you good?”
“I’m good.” She nods and stares back at me fiercely.
“Okay. I’m getting the van. Stay out of sight.”
I give her one last look before doubling back and walking quickly. The van is parked about eight blocks away, which is lucky. I guessed and parked right in the middle of the western part of the city, hoping that it would be close enough when the time came. As I finally make it to the van and climb inside, that gamble was clearly paying off.
I pull out and drive the eight blocks back to Amelia. As I pull up and slow down, though, she’s nowhere to be seen.
I drive twice around the block, but there’s nothing. Panic threatens to descend, but I keep it at bay. I’ve trained for this, for an impossible event. I have to keep my wits or else risk fucking everything up.
I don’t know where she is. She could have gotten up and ran off, or something could have forced her to move. Of the two, I have to assume that the latter is more likely. I park the van at the corner in a loading zone and put the hazard lights on before heading out on foot.
My heart is pounding as I stand in the middle of the street and look around. Nobody is out and the building that Sheer went into looks totally quiet. Someone could be watching me from a window and I’d never know, but I have to take this risk. I need to find Amelia and figure out what happened.
Fear replaces my panic. What if she did something stupid and got caught? She could be in there, right now, being beaten and hurt. But no, no, that can’t happen, I won’t let that happen. I take a few steps toward the building and have to stop myself.
I don’t know what’s in there. I can’t just go running off. I don’t even have a gun with me tonight. Fuck, I should have brought a gun.
Suddenly, a motion catches my eye. It’s a light blue umbrella opening and closing. I walk fast toward it, and the person holding it disappears into a side alley. I turn left and head down the block then follow the umbrella.
Standing at the end of the alley is Amelia. I nearly pass out from relief as I walk up to her and wrap my arms around her. “You scared the fuck out of me,” I say.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “He left. Almost as soon as you walked away.”
I cock my head at her. “What are you doing with his umbrella?”
She gives me a guilty look then points at the ground. There, crumpled in a heap, is Mark Sheer.
“Shit,” I say then crouch down beside him. He’s alive, though he’s bleeding from a blow to the head. “What happened?”
“I followed him, but he must have seen me, because he ran down into this alley. I don’t think he realized that it was a dead end, but I followed him anyway. When he backed toward the wall, he
started yelling at me, cursing.” She frowns and points at a brick lying a few feet away. “I had to hit him.”
“You knocked him out,” I say softly.
“I didn’t want to. But I had to. He was yelling.”
My blood runs cold. I’m suddenly very aware of our situation.
“Get the van,” I say.
“What?”
“Go. Now.” I shove the keys into her hand. “Get it, pull it up as close as you can. Go.”
She nods and quickly leaves. I stand and scout out the area, looking for any witnesses. As far as I can tell, we’re very much alone, which is fortunate. The alley is small and thin with dumpsters in either side. Whatever happened was probably blocked from the street’s view, and it’s likely that nobody heard him yelling.
But they might have. And they could have left already or called the cops.
We have to take him. I can’t just kill him right here in case someone is watching. I pull my hood forward and bend down, pulling Sheer into a sitting position, my arms hooked under his armpits.
As soon as I hear the van pull up, I drag him as fast as I can. My heart is hammering the whole time as we go down the alley. Amelia backs the van slightly into the space, and so all I need to do is throw open the back doors and shove Sheer into the back. Once he’s in, I stop and turn back into the alley. I run over to where the brick Amelia used is and grab it, tossing it into the van as well.
“Drive,” I say to her.
We pull out immediately.
That was fucked. There were too many fucking things that could have gone wrong right there. Someone could have seen Amelia, or me, or both of us. Someone could have gotten all of that on video. Our faces are likely covered by the hoods but still, this is bad, very bad.
We drive in silence for a while. Amelia heads south, heading out of the city. We’ll have to switch soon, since she doesn’t know the way to my property, but it’s more important that we get out of the city first.
