by Soto, S. M.
I try to pinpoint what it is about him that reeled Blossom in all those years ago. What did she find so utterly attractive about this piece of shit? Because from where I’m standing, I can sniff out the vile taint that lurks deep inside him. My sweet little Blossom would’ve never been able to spot it. And she didn’t. That’s why he was able to hurt her. That’s why he was able to take something from her that wasn’t his to take. Even the thought of this bastard’s hands on my girl has me seething with rage. Ready to plunge a knife into his jugular and watch all the life spill out of him. I want him to struggle for his next breath. I want to watch the panic seep into his eyes.
“You some fucking faggot or something, huh? I ain’t into this weird gay shit, man. Fucking sick son of bitch.” He spits a wad of saliva at my feet, and I blow out a deep tired breath. My gaze lingers on the wad of saliva before slowly drifting toward him. I keep my face clear of emotion and pull the cigarette from my lips, flicking it onto the floor beside my feet.
I don’t give him a chance to calculate my next move. I simply stride up to him and clasp his neck in between my palm and squeeze. His eyes widen, and he chokes from the lack of oxygen. I wait calmly for the panic to set in, and when it does, I lean into his personal space and grit the words out in a cold, emotionless tone.
“You took something that didn’t belong to you, Ryan,” I chide. “And now? You’re going to pay for it with your life.”
I feel his body stiffen. His throat works beneath the weight of my palm, and I can practically smell his fear. “W-what?” he stammers.
“Restitution.” I breathe the word out with a sadistic smirk pulling at my lips.
“W-what…the-e…f-ack…” he wheezes out, his face turning an interesting shade of red and purple.
“Blossom Jaymes.”
I don’t expect to see recognition in his eyes, especially after going through the file on him. The fucker is a serial rapist. I may be a lot of things, but a rapist isn’t one of them. Taking from a woman in such a capacity is cowardly. And this man shaking before me? He’s the biggest fucking coward of them all.
At the mention of her name, I see the recognition flicker in his eyes. He knows exactly who I’m talking about, and I can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse. He didn’t deserve to know Blossom. He didn’t deserve to think about her in any capacity, let alone remember her in that one. It makes what I’m about to do next so much easier. With my hand cinched firmly around his neck, I reel my fist back and swing, enjoying the crunching sound when I make contact with his face.
“Ahh! What the fuck—”
Cutting him off, I dig into my back pocket and slap the cloth against his nose and mouth at the same time I release the pressure around his neck. He sucks in a lungful of air, his eyes widening; then just as planned, realization dawns on him and his eyes flutter closed.
Chloroform. Such a fucking problem solver.
I slap on a hearty amount of duct tape over his lips and step back, taking in his now-limp body, bound to the chair. His nose is busted, and it brings a sadistic smile to my face. Fucker.
There’s no need to serve justice at my hands alone, not when Blossom has such a great capacity for darkness. I want to play a game with her, watch her fall apart when she comes to the realization that she wants a man dead. That she wants revenge for what happened to her. That bitter taste that will layer her tongue once he dies because of her. She’ll finally understand. She’ll have no choice but to understand why my revenge means so much to me, and why I have to follow through with it, regardless of who she is.
I knew I’d never be able to get rid of Blossom, being as perfect as she was, but what if she wasn’t so perfect? What if she held the same darkness that I did and she was like every other person? Would it make it easier to kill her? Would I be just in killing a woman who was not so innocent after all? To me, things are more beautiful broken. Anyone can cherish someone or something that is pure and whole. But to destroy something, to strip away someone’s perfection? See how many people give it a second look when all is said and done. I didn’t have the time nor luxury to strip Blossom’s perfection for my own perverse pleasure.
I knew the answer to all those questions. But I still did it anyway. I still brought her in the room with him there, knowing what was going to happen. Knowing what she was going to choose even before she did, because I’m an evil bastard.
With my eyes glued to her profile, I watched her push through the doors and then the stiffening of her shoulders. I can’t explain the sensation—the absolute thrill that shot through me when her eyes widened. She paused just over the threshold, taking in everything about the room and our unwanted guest who was strapped to the chair.
I could hear the tremor in her voice, and fuck me, it had my cock straining against the zipper of my jeans. I wanted to defile this sweet angel. I wanted to smother her innocence in every way possible, but I also wanted to protect her. To hold her close and keep her body warm and leave her heart beating. But I couldn’t. And this? Defiling this sweet angel was all I could think to do to make it easier. To make killing her easier.
But it wasn’t. I could tell myself that over and over, and it still wouldn’t change how I felt about Blossom Jaymes. She was a bright beacon of light, and I was the darkness, consuming all of her, draining her of everything pure she had to offer.
I knew throwing that file at her feet would break her, and I wasn’t wrong. I could feel her self-blame. She blamed herself for every victim after her. Every girl who had to endure the same thing she did. What she didn’t know is there’s no stopping a man like Ryan. A serial rapist, dead set on ruining women for his own perverse pleasure. And the minute he opened his mouth and said she asked for it? All that anger that I’d been tamping down started budding to the surface. I felt my anger rise. My original plan was to let her kill him. To have his blood on her hands. But with each syllable out of his fucking mouth, I snapped. Before I could process what I was doing, I snatched my Glock out of the waistband of my jeans and pulled the trigger, watching as chunks of his flesh and blood sprayed the room.
Regret is immediate after killing him, but not for the reasons you think. It was too quick. Much quicker than a man like him deserved. He deserved to be tortured, his death long and drawn-out, not fast and seamless.
I’m not surprised when Blossom stumbles into the bathroom emptying her stomach, her broken sobs like nails on a chalkboard and shards of glass piercing into my heart.
For fuck’s sake.
The emotions traveling through my body are foreign. After the death of my brothers and my father, I didn’t allow myself to feel much, except for anger and the lust for revenge. Even after my mother’s sudden death, I kept that same promise. But as I watch my sweet little Blossom so broken down by the death of a man who wronged her, I can’t help but feel like lines are blurring. She’s fucking with me. Fucking with my head. And I’m allowing it.
As much as I’d like to pull her into my arms and console her, she’s not ready for that and neither am I. I have bigger issues to worry about. So instead of pulling her into my arms like I should, I snag the bathroom door in my hand and protect her the only other way I can. I slam the door shut on her screaming, on her cries. I shove a chair beneath the knob, keeping her from pushing through it, and I get to work. Getting rid of Ryan’s body is going to be easy. Everything that comes after? Not so much.
* * *
I push through the motel door, greeted by the sound of the pipes in the bathroom being turned off. Crossing the room, I toss away the chair lodged under the knob of the wood and almost immediately, the door flies open and my sweet, broken angel pushes through.
She stands there with a billow of steam around her, her damp hair leaking droplets of water along her collarbone and chest. Her breasts heave with the force of her anger. Tears of frustration glimmer in her blue and green eyes. I wouldn’t expect anything less. Especially not from a girl like Blossom.
“You…y-you-u…” s
he stutters out violently in her anger and sadness, stumbling over her words. I wait for her to react. With my head cocked to the side, I watch the emotions roll through her. “You can’t just do that! You can’t just kill people…just because…just because…” She trails off, those blue-green eyes alight with rage and heartbreak.
“I already did, sweetheart,” I reply coldly, and she flinches like I’ve struck her.
“You can’t do that! You can’t keep doing this!”
My lips thin. “I will kill whoever I want, when I want. Especially when that person has had his hands on something that belongs to me.”
Her face pales and her lips part. “I do not belong to you, Percivale. I am not a possession, I’m a human being!”
A slow smile spreads across my face. I take a threatening step toward her, and she tries to sidestep me. It doesn’t work. I close in on her, causing her eyes to widen and her to retreat from me. “That’s where you’re wrong, Blossom Jaymes. You were mine the second I laid eyes on you. You were mine the minute I had my mouth on you. You were mine the second that cunt came all over my dick. Understand that? You are mine,” I growl.
I watch slowly in satisfaction as the color percolates back into her cheeks. Her chest rises and falls violently at my words, and I’d bet my left nut she’s wet for me. Because as much as she hates to admit it, she likes being mine. She likes being my possession.
“You…you’re wrong-g.”
“Am I?” I whisper in a dark, husky voice, closing the distance between us. I prowl toward her until she’s like a frightened animal, cornered against the bedroom wall. At my fucking mercy. “Want to know what I think, Blossom?”
Her back slams up against the wall as she tries to walk away from me. With no other place to go, she presses into the shitty wallpaper, like she hopes it’ll swallow her up whole and save her from me, but it won’t.
“N-no,” she stutters out as I press the front of my body against hers. Her tits smash against my chest with each inhale and exhale. Her pink tongue juts out, wetting her bottom lip, and my dick jumps in my pants. I keep talking despite her denial.
“I think you like that, Blossom. I think you secretly like that I own you, and you know what else?” I whisper, lowering my face toward hers. “I think you like that he’s gone. That he can’t hurt you anymore.”
Her eyes flare at my words, and she opens her mouth, ready to deny my claims, but I beat her to it. “And what’s more thrilling? Your pussy is getting off on it.” I slide my hand down her body, under the hem of the small, barely there towel, and let out a sharp gust of breath when I feel how wet she is. “You feel that?” I coax. “That slick juice creaming between your thighs?”
To drive my point home, I swirl my fingers through her juices, enjoying the way the smacking sound of her arousal echoes around us, reveling in the way her breath hitches and her hips twist in little circles in time to my fingers.
“I think you like that I was the one to get rid of him. I think you like being mine, Blossom. Am I wrong?”
She whimpers now, so lost to the pleasure my fingers are working on her sweet cunt, and I laugh tauntingly. I dip my middle finger into her tight little channel and hook it into a come-hither motion that has her panting and squirming. The walls of her pussy clamp around me, proving my point.
“I didn’t think so,” I whisper near her ear, tracing the shell with my tongue. She shivers violently, her entire body vibrating with need. “Now turn around and get naked,” I order, jerking her head to the side. Slowly, she strips herself of the small towel, and my eyes heat as they rove over her perfectly pale flesh.
She’s a ruckus. That’s exactly what she is. A fucking ruckus in my otherwise orderly life of crime.
“Bend over and put your hands around your ankles.”
She obliges, baring that pretty pink pussy to me. The folds look like the petals on a soft pink rose. Her arousal is smeared between her thighs, dripping from her swollen lips, just begging to be licked clean. With her body folded over like that, she looks absolutely incredible. I close the distance between us and run my hands over the firm globes of her ass, squeezing the cheeks. The pads of my fingers dig into her flesh, causing her to tense, most likely from the pain. I ignore my aching cock that’s begging me to fuck her from behind, and instead, my hand sails down on her right cheek making painful contact. Her ass jiggles and turns red almost instantly. She lets out a strangled sound of surprise, and that does me in. With a growl, I drop to my knees and shove my face between her cheeks, my tongue lapping at that delicious honey dripping from her cunt, and I lick her clean until she’s groaning and writhing, her locked legs threatening to give out on her.
I fondle her tits while I eat her pussy. I stroke my tongue in and out of her tight little cunt, enjoying the way her muscles spasm. I suck on her clit and trail my tongue up. Up, up, up, until I feel her tense.
“What are you…oh, fuck,” she whispers in complete ecstasy as I swirl my tongue around her puckered little hole. She makes these incoherent little sounds as I lick her hole and slide my fingers inside her cunt. Not in the mood to play games, I hook them, arching them inside of her and stroking them against her wall.
Blossom tries to get away from my hold, and I punish her with my hand sailing down against her ass cheek. The crack of my palm against her skin is deafening, and the way she cries out and her tight little channel spasms on my fingers has me doing it again and again. I bring my palm down on each globe, alternating between harsh and soft blows, gentle petting and aggressive groping. By the way she’s groaning and the way her pussy is flooding with arousal, I’d say she’s enjoying the sting of pain.
My grip on her ass tightens, and I fingerfuck her harder, swirling my tongue faster. Her wetness squelches around us, and fuck me, it’s the most delicious sound in the world. When her cunt tightens around my fingers and her breathing escalates, I know she’s right there.
“Cum on my fingers, sweet girl. Let me taste you.”
“Oh god,” she groans, and soon enough, she’s coming. Her pussy contracts as I pump into her, and I feel her cum slide down between my fingers, along my hand. I pull away, glancing down at the perfect mess between her legs. Her thick cream coats my fingers and drips from her swollen folds. I pull my digits out and clean her with my tongue, devouring her like she belongs to me, like this pussy belongs to me—and it does. I feel it in the way she gives herself to me. The way her body surrenders. Any chance I had that involved giving her up was fucked the second I slid in her warm cunt. I’m just scratching the surface of the sexual deviant inside her and the feisty woman hidden beneath all these layers.
She’s mine. Plain and simple.
Blossom’s legs suddenly give out on her, and she collapses to the floor, her breaths ragged, coming hard and fast as she tries to regroup and catch her breath. Too bad I won’t let her. In three quick movements, I have my shirt off, my cock free, and I’m lifting her by her hips. I press a hand against her back, keeping her facedown, and maneuver her ass up. Without warning, I slam into her from behind and she screams.
I dig my fingers into her hips and grab on to a handful of her ass, yanking her pussy up and down onto my cock. She slaps her hand back against me, trying to shove my hips away and get away from me, telling me it’s too much without words, but I don’t let her, I change my angle, going deeper, fucking her harder, making her scream louder. I’m practically fucking riding her.
My balls slap against her clit as I pound into her. Her tight pussy squeezes my cock each time I bottom out, like it doesn’t want me to leave. Winding a fist in her hair, I tug her head back and yank on the strands, enjoying the view of her body bowed, bent to my will, my cock driving in and out of her, and her cum coating my shaft.
“Whose pussy is this?” I growl in between thrusts. I yank her hair to the side so I can see her face, and it doesn’t disappoint. Her face is red, eyes closed, and lips parted in pleasure as whimpers escape.
“It’s y-yours,” she whispe
rs under her breath, like she can’t summon enough air to get the words out.
“What was that?” I ask, stroking her clit now and dipping my thumb into her wetness, swirling it back to her puckered asshole. I press against the ring of muscles, and it stretches, opening for me. I slide my thumb down again, dipping into the cream her body just can’t seem to stop producing, and I press back into her hole, enjoying the foreign sound that escapes her throat.
“I’m going to fuck you here, Blossom. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but I will fuck you here soon, understand me?” I say, sliding my thumb in and out. Her groans are louder now, choppy, like she doesn’t know how to handle all the sensations traveling through her body.
The telltale sign of my balls tightening and a tingle rushing down my spine has me stroking her clit harder and her pussy in deep long strokes that push her over the edge. She explodes with my name on her lips.
“Perc, Perc, Perc,” she whispers over and over again as I shoot my load inside of her, her pussy milking my cock of all its cum.
Slowly, I slide out of her, careful not to hurt her, and she falls limply to the carpet, all limbs and no strength. I lift her sweat-slicked body into my arms and deposit her onto the bed. Her eyes are shut, and almost instantly, once her head makes contact with the pillows and my chest, her breathing starts to even out. I lie there with her splayed out next to me, half her body covering mine, glaring up at the ceiling. I know what I need to do, but how can I?
I glance down at her, and my chest tightens as I stare at the innocent angel in my arms, my cum still rooted deep inside of her. How can I get rid of her now? I can’t. That’s the fucked-up part. I can’t seem to do it. Even though I know I should. If I don’t, someone else will. That’s just the way it goes. And if I’m not the one to do it, who will? What if they rape her before doing it? Drag it out? She doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve any of this shit.
