This is the first one-shot of a few I plan to write, as a warm up for multiple chapter story, which will feature the characters I focus on in each short story. So review and let me know if you like it.
Warning: Smut, blood and gore will be read in the following chapter.
P.S: First time writing smut.
Darla stands by the bar in the club as the techno music pulsed, while she stirred her martini glass. She watched the men walk by. Old ones, young ones, dark-skinned, light-skinned, fat, fit, skinny, 10's, 9's, 4's. All of them a vast amount possible victims or victors, but Darla always searched for that 1 in 1,000,000 person, who ticked all the boxes, but she has never been that lucky.
Darla looked like an angel. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, lithe body, bronze skin, a smile that looked innocent, but quickly that smile could change from innocent to devilish. And devilish intentions are what she has planned for tonight.
"Would you like a drink?" A man asked.
Darla looked at the man beside her. Dark hair, bronze skin, black suit with a silver tie, most women would love to get into a bed with him, and he knew it. He had no fear when approaching her, and that was something Darla turned her head away from, both literally and metaphorically.
"I've got one already." Darla informed.
"I have never known a woman to not accept a free drink." He counted.
"Well, I'm not like most women." She retorted.
"That's perfect, because I'm not like most men." He countered.
Darla looks him in the eye. "You were on the football team in high school, then in college. You got in a fancy college on a football scholarship, even though you could have easily gone to that college without it, as your family was rich enough to afford it. You now work on Wall Street, making even more money that you don't really need."
The man in the suit, stood there slightly shocked and heavily intimidated. He didn't say a word, he didn't move a muscle, and he didn't even breath, not until Darla look away, that he able to move, able to breathe. He walked away without a word, but an expression that said a thousand words.
As he walked past her to get away, she smelt it, that smell she could wear as perfume. Fear in a bottle, she revelled in it as she closed her eyes, letting it make her mouth water, and her pussy wet. Fear from a man who really feels fear, is like a vintage bottle of wine. You have to savour it, and savour it she did.
But then the scent faded away, and she was left hot and bothered. She wanted more, she followed the scent, and she swerved through the crowd. The hands that reached out to touch her, and touched the bodies she glided past, the contact, the electricity, the smell of arousal in the air. Did nothing, but quicken her footsteps towards the bathroom.
She ripped open the door, and by some luck the only person in the room was, silver tie. She locked the door, and his blended expression of worry and panic was the cherry on top, for Darla. She advanced towards him and pushed him against the wall, with enough force to wind him, she looked at him with wild abandon, not caring, only craving.
She tore open his shirt, the buttons went flying. She brought their lips together hard, with enough force to bruise. He stood there unsure how to respond, but as her hands lowered from his chest to his belt, his inhibitions themselves lowered.
He grabbed her ass hard, feeling he needed to display his masculinity. She in return squeezed his dick hard through his pants, so hard that his eyes watered.
"Okay, squeezing a little tight there." He hissed.
She squeezed even tighter, that devilish smile playing on her lips. "I'm in charge, say it." She ordered.
"What?" He asked.
She squeezed tighter. "Say it!" She screamed.
"You're in charge!" He whimpered.
She let go, then slowly unbuckled his belt. The man stood there paralysed again by this woman, his hand press flat against the tiles on the wall. Her eyes locked on him, as she slowly continued to undo his pants.
"Not that I'm not flatter – " He began.
She silenced him with a kiss, it was more gentle, but not less passionate than earlier. He suddenly felt weaker, he felt drained. She broke the kiss, and dropped his pants, show he was fully erect.
"Shut up, and take off the rest of your clothes!" She ordered.
He immediately complied
He took off his jacket, and moved towards undoing his tie, but Darla raised her to stop him. "Keep the tie on." She ordered, with a mischievous smile.
He complied, and dropped his shirt instead. He stood there fully naked, and paralysed with fear and lust. Darla eyed him from head to toe with lips parted.
She closed her eyes again as she smelt, his fear. It was savoury and sweet, and she felt her arousal drizzle down the inner part of her thigh. She revelled in his complacency, in his submissiveness. She loved the breaking men, who would usually do the breaking.
"Get in the stall and sit." Darla ordered.
He did just that, and Darla raised the hilt of her dress up to her hips, and then straddles him, before lowering herself on to him. She moans softly, as she feels herself adjust to him, and he groans in pleasure. He grabs in to her hips to steady her, and her hands tangled in his hair. She rocks her hips in a slow motion, and he thrusts into her with deep strokes.
"You feel amazing." He moaned.
He begins to quicken his thrust, and she rocks harder, they moan, groan and gasp. They then moving in pace with the techno music in the club, as this happens he begins to feel invigorated and drained. He lifts her up, and slams her against the stall wall, thrusting into her harder, with each thrust, Darla gives a high pitch gasp.
She begins to claw her nails down his back, hard enough to draw blood.
"Could – you – be – less – aggressive – please?" He asked, between each thrust.
She giggled, and but her lips on his neck and inhaled his scent. She then ran her fingers across the freshly made wound, after putting her chin on his shoulder; she brought her fingers to her lips. She licked and sucked the blood off her fingers. Her mouth watered, and her appetite grew, and she was close to coming, all she need was something to put her over the edge.
She put her fingers back on his back, soaking her fingers in his blood, she then put her between her legs, lathering herself with his blood, and his thrust he made the blood went deeper inside her, that was the last thing to push her over, she came with a high-pitched moan, she then clamped her teeth into his neck, and ripped out a chunk of his neck. The blood flowed down her throat and his body, he yelled in pain, and tried to push her off, but she latched on to him strongly.
He dropped to the floor, with him still in her. She bit into his shoulder, and took a huge chunk of his flesh, which she chewed in front of him, with glazed over eyes and a blank expression. Her teeth were black, and her teeth large and sharp. He opened his mouth to cry out for help, but her hand inside his mouth and tore into his tongue, and ate it.
He was in such agony, and was beginning to choke on his own blood, even as it poured out of his mouth. Darla kissed him, drinking his blood and poking and playing with her tongue was before.
Darla snapped her head away towards the door, as she heard someone try to open the door. "It's locked." A man's voice said, behind the door.
"Let's just go back to our place." A woman's voice suggested.
"Hep mah. " The man beside Darla gurgled.
She clasps her hand over his mouth. "Did you hear that?" The younger man behind the door said, and then began to bang on the door. "Is everything alright I could hear screaming." A man's voice asked.
"It's probably, someone getting lucky. You worry too much, babe." The woman's voice said.
"I know the difference between moans and screams, and I definitely heard someone scream." He argued, and moved the door handle, again.
Darla, looked back at the man beside her, and saw he had die, then got up, and looked around at the scene before her, and realized she'd been too messy, and that blood was about to flow through the gap under the door of the bathroom. She could not talk or seduce her way out of this bloody mess. She steps out of the stall, and looks for a way out, as the handle on the door continued to shake.
"Let's just – oh my god, is that blood." The woman gasped.
There were no windows, so, Darla looked up for a vent and found one, as the man behind the door, began to attempt to break down the door. Darla began to climb up on top of a toilet to reach the vent.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Another older sounding man, asked.
"Someone's bleeding in there, Jim." The girl answered.
"Move I can open it with the keys." Jim informed.
The keys turned and the door opened, but, Carla was already gone.
"Oh, my dear god!" Jim whispered.