Love Me Violent
Summary: He's a dangerous predator, and you're his prey. What if instead of being frightened, you welcomed everything he had in store for you? You know there's no coming back, but you still want it. You still want him. One-shot deals with consenting adults.
Warnings: Adult theme (nothing overly descriptive) Violence and overall dark theme.
Disclaimer: This is all fiction! It all came from my crummy brain. Any songs, cars, movies, TV shows, celebrities, known wrestlers, or even brands mentioned all belong to their respective owners.
There's this thing living inside of me, this writhing and ugly little thing. I've always known it existed and I've always tried to deny it, but deny it I can't when your skin glistens with sweat and blood.
My blood.
Even now, despite the throbbing pain, I need it. I want it. I should be scared, I should be frightened, and yet I'm not.
Scurrying, I do my best to hide, and with my hand over my mouth, I fight to stay silent. Deep down, I know I want you to find me, but I want to make you try.
It'll be so much better if you try.
I crouch in the dark and listen; my heart is restless in my chest, and the pulsating and beating is the only sound which fills my head. Almost lightheaded with anticipation, my thighs clench as my heated blood courses through my veins; biting down on a finger, I stifle a sound which threatens to escape me.
The cold air in the room nips at me, eagerly reaching for any bit of exposed skin. My nipples harden underneath my shirt, the taut buds tenting the fabric. None of this makes sense, or does it? I must be broken, defective. I shouldn't want this, and yet I do.
Find me, please.
Gasping for air, I release the breath I'd been holding. A small cloud escapes my lips and my lungs burn as I finally give them the air they'd been craving. Then, I hear you.
No, I feel you.
Thump, thump, thump.
The air hums with electricity as your footsteps approach and the little hairs at the back of my neck and on my arms stand on end. Goosebumps break out all over my body, and my now drenched sex clamps excitedly. With bated breath, I watch as you finally round the corner.
The gleaming metal, the smirk on your face, the danger in your blue eyes.
You got me.
"You know this is it, right?" Your deep voice cuts through the silence; the slight drawl makes me hungry for more.
I know, and I know I should care, and yet I don't. The wooden wall of the rickety shack bites into me as you lift me and drive me back, your hand around my neck. Shamelessly moaning, I arch my back to press myself against you as much as I can.
"You want this"
Oh, how I want this.
With eyes closed, I begin to shiver. Sounds of desperation crawl up through my throat as you playfully run the deliciously cold metal against my bare skin. My hips buck wildly and I feel your excitement.
"I'll let you have it" you whisper into my ear. Your hot breath on my skin brings me even closer to the edge.
In the hushed silence of our need, the clinking of your belt buckle and the descent of your zipper echo around us deafeningly loud. I whimper as your blood caked hands push my legs apart, and within seconds you plunge yourself between my folds.
"Bite it" you demand, holding the metal up to my mouth.
Desperately obedient, I bite the metal and taste myself. The cold surface grinds awkwardly against my teeth, but your violent thrusting into me placates me, soothes me, pleases me.
Blurred are the lines between pleasure and pain.
"You will come and when you do, I'll end it all for you" you promise.
As the waves of pleasure wash over me, I grip your sweaty wife-beater. I lose myself to you, to the sounds you're making and the way your jean covered legs brush roughly against my bare thighs. With every thrust you make you hit that spot inside of me, and the throbbing pain from before increases, and yet the rolling waves build up higher and higher. And higher.
Thrust, thrust, thrust.
Deeper and deeper, until I can't take it anymore.
With a grunt against my ear, you shove yourself into me one last time, and my walls clench around you. Even as the spasms go on, you plunge the metal deep inside my heart and I cry out - from pleasure or pain, I don't know. My hands bury themselves into the blonde mess you call hair.
How I'll miss that hair.
My hands slip down to rest limply at my sides, and the tears squeeze out of my closed eyes; my lifeblood pours out of me, and still my body rides the high from my climax.
"Easy, easy" you croon as you slip out from between my folds while gently guiding me down onto the wooden floor.
"I told you I'd let you have it" you say smugly.
But I can't be sure that's what you said; I can barely hear you now, and yet I can still feel you in me. I can still taste the metal. I can still taste myself.
The throbbing pain is erased by the throbbing between my legs, and it is the aftershocks which still roll inside of me that I take with me as the darkness finally devours me.
A/N: There we go. I talked it over with a very good friend of mine (in the UK) and it was decided I should write a "sexy murder-y one-shot" about our very own Ambrose...and so I did. Hope you like it! No, I have not forgotten about "SITW" (Someone in the World) but I guess I needed to get this out of my system. Cheers, and thanks for reading! Reviews wouldn't hurt ;)