cataclysmic appetite
-FIVE-
I'm on her in half a second, undressing and pinning her to the glass wall of the shower stall, hearing her hiss at the cold. She doesn't know where to look first, her bambi lashes fluttering as her irises focus left, right and zero in on my hard cock. I swear I can still smell her juicy cunt even though she's cheating.
"You," I growl as my hand finds her throat and I hold her to the wall with the least amount of pressure I can muster. It's not time yet, she's not sweet enough yet, not ready to harvest. "Need to show me some fucking respect, you fucking whore," I continue, feeling the way she's trying to swallow. I don't let her, squeezing a little tighter as my fingers curl around her elegant neck. Her cheeks fill with blood, eyes wide and scared. There you go, sweetheart. Let that blood grow hot for me, let it mingle with adrenaline before I tear through your pretty skin.
"That ridiculous sponge, remove it." I spit. Her throat muscles convulse as she panics and tries to get away, but my strength is no match to hers, little whore won't win.
"How do you know that?" The expression on her face is genuine, the confusion is real as her brows furrow, and I can hear the wheels in her head turn. I'm not in the mood to listen in, though, so I leave it alone, decide I want to dive into dessert blind instead of all-knowing. Let her taste engulf me as I bite into her for the first time, sample her for the first time.
"I know lots of things, sweetheart. But don't feel stupid now, I'm about to tell you everything." I chuckle. It's dark and deep and it makes her heart pound so fast I think she might pass out on me. That is, until her demeanor changes. I watch the way her face morphs as I press my cock into her flat stomach, skin like silk as I grind my hips into her, hard. She mewls, hands reaching out, touching my forearms before she smiles like a fucked-up princess, and her fingers slide up until her hot palm rests on the back of my hand. My hair is soaked, skin warmed by the stream of her rain shower, but she looks at me like she's seeing the sun for the very first fucking time. It bothers me, but then her fingers curl around mine on her throat and she gives me that smile again.
"Choke me harder," she breathes.
I utter a moan, her reactions unexpected and so fucking hot as her body clearly relaxes and she lets me hold her up—one hand around her neck and the other planted on her waist. For a second, I comply and watch as her heart hesitates, and her breathing stokes into her chest. She's gonna be so pretty when she dies. So fucking pretty it makes my cock ache. I can't wait to fuck her. I can't wait to kill her, watch how life drains from her, drop by excruciatingly delicious drop.
I let go and smirk as her head falls to the side, smile fading.
"Want more, little whore?" I breathe against her neck. I see her jugular, feel it pound blood through her body and I lick the skin that covers it. Mhm, she's so much better already, more tantalizing and seductive—alluring in all her mortality.
"Yes," she answers quickly, brown eyes flecked with gold narrowing. Bo licks her lips, the drop of water that was there running a path down until I hear it fall onto the acrylic shower stall floor. I arch a brow, demanding her respect and she doesn't disappoint. "Please." It's like a prayer, the way she looks at me combined with the tone of her voice. Like she needs it.
I let go completely, hand gliding over the curve of her hip as the other travels from her neck to one tit, then the other where I crush her soft flesh until it turns red, the imprint of my hand clearly there for a while. She eats it up, arches her back, demanding more. She's the moth to my flame, and it looks like I've just added gasoline to the mix. Splendid.
My fingers find her pussy, skin so smooth it makes me think of fresh peaches in Nîmes. Soft and juicy, her cunt and the fruit alike. There's no doubt about not, not when I can almost taste her in the air while there's something obstructing me.
I glide two fingers inside, lips parting as she spreads her legs wider for me.
"Such a good little whore, aren't you?" I praise her, see how she crumbles and dissolves by the way my words caress her all the way down to her soul. I can fucking feel it. Her spirit is feisty, and although her flesh is pliant and weak—like her beating heart—I can't help but be reminded of her, the one who made me feel like she crumbled me all the way down to my core. It's been so long since I've felt this little glimmer of passion—arousal— that makes me crave more.
I recognize the alien material, the soft but ragged edges of the thing women have been using for centuries.
"Think no one will fuck you without this whore?" I chuckle, curl my fingers as she moans and I tug.
"Girl's gotta make rent, you know." She lets her head hang back against the tiles.
I discard her bloody sponge on the shower floor, watching how the water turns red, how the scent swirls around me like a cloud of deadly sin and temptation. I mustn't kill yet, not yet.
"Love, you'd make so much more without it." I sink down to my knees, careful not to leave any dents in the acrylic with my hungry enthusiasm. She's exquisite, and I feel myself salivating at the thought of tasting her. "Let me tell you what's gonna happen to you now, okay?" I let my palms wander her curvy, strong thighs before my nails dig in. I leave tracks, all the way down to the side of her knees, trail back up so I draw blood.
Fuck.