76) Where No Murdered Ghost Can Haunt Me
Warning: Describes past sexual abuse of a child/adolescent.
River had practically moved in with him, she slept in his bed more often than not, waited up for him or woke when he came in. He did the same with her. Technically she still had a dorm in the passenger quarters, but she used it for clothing (a few things anyway) and that was pretty much it. Also to keep Simon from having an unholy herd of baby cows.
There were things they didn't talk about. Mostly his things, though some were hers. She didn't like to discuss her parents. Didn't talk much about the school Simon had taken her from. He figured they both still had secrets. She might know most of his but that didn't mean they talked about them. They'd get to it in time.
They both had bad nights sometimes. Times when River woke with strangled cries of terror, she'd cling to him, desperate for his touch to ground her. Nights where nightmares rode his dreams and he'd wake, aroused and aching and hating himself for it. Half needing to wake her up to fuck and half not wanting to pour that filth he saw in his head into her. Especially since, unlike Carolyn, River could actually see the sewage in his brain.
Conditioned. He'd heard River say something to her brother about that. How the school had tried to condition her to obedience. He'd looked it up. Hadn't understood what she meant until he did, 'bring (something) into the desired state for use'. That's one of the things the cortex said. Grooming was the other phrase. And that one he understood just fine.
He figured that's where he got twisted up. Sex hadn't ever been something he'd been able to think about without needing to be in control. The only way he could feel safe, as much as he had ever felt safe in his life.
He groaned as he felt River stir beside him, her head pillowed on one bicep and her hand drifted down his abdomen, gentle fingers wrapping around his dick. The growl vibrated in his throat and chest before he could stop it, but incredibly she didn't flinch. She let go, let her fingertips pet his cock but she didn't grip him. "River…" How the fuck could he say he was sorry when he wasn't even sure he was. When he didn't know what he wanted or needed or how to get that filth out of his mind, so it didn't hurt her.
"Control," River whispered. "It was the first lesson. And the last." She lifted her head up and kissed him, sweetly, gently. "What did she do? To control you Riddick? If you don't want to say it, you can just think about it, I'll see."
He closed his eyes a moment, he wasn't sure he wanted her to see him like that, powerless, used, twisted like a performing monkey to do whatever that jiàn huò wanted. He loved that she called him Riddick. Not Richie, not Dickie. Not even Richard. No hiding behind his first name and pretending she wasn't with a wanted murderer. Pretending she wasn't fucking an escaped convict and enjoying it.
"Riddick, show me, and we'll figure out how to take what should be your power back," Sweet soft lips on his skin, his jaw and cheek and lips. What the hell. She might as well know the worst of it. The worst of him. If she was disgusted, wanted to leave, well…he'd been half expecting it for a while. Since they'd begun this thing actually. And even after that mess Jack had made. Especially after that mess.
"I can't…talk about it," He forced those words out at least. "If you want to know you'll have to…"
"It's fine," She kissed him again. "There's nothing in your mind that can hurt me Riddick. I hate that it hurts you. I want to help. You are not alone in this."
He nodded and thought back to the first time, twelve, big for his age but still young in his head. He'd been watching one of the fourteen-year-old girls across the street earlier that day. Had gone inside so she wouldn't notice the hard on he'd gotten when she bent over and showed off a cute ass and shapely legs.
SHE had come to his room that night. His foster mother. And she'd slipped into bed with him and took him in hand. One hand held him down by his hips, by his legs, while her mouth worked over his cock. He'd gotten erect easy; he was twelve. And she'd climbed on top of him and rode him hard. Put his hands on her tits and made him pinch them. Moaned and he'd felt her wet and hot around him, hadn't been able to stop himself from coming.
And she'd been irritated but she'd started again, pumping him in her hand, a little rough but the second time he lasted long enough for her to come on his dick. She'd patted his shoulder and told him he was a good boy. That she would teach him what to do with a woman.
She'd sent every kid but him out on errands or to friends' houses the next day. And she'd kept him in bed. She'd made him lie back on the bed and showed him her body, her clit, her pussy, her ass. And she'd knelt astride his face and told him to lick her clit and suck it until she came. And if he was quick about it, she'd ride him after. Horrifying, wanting something and feeling like there was something not quite right about it. But he'd obeyed.
He'd brought her, relatively quickly for an inexperienced twelve-year-old. And she'd ridden him. That time when he'd come too quickly, she'd twisted his nipple viciously and told him he was going to learn to slow down. That he wasn't going to be allowed to come until she did. The first time was free, she'd smiled coolly as she explained. After that, if he didn't learn to obey, there'd be punishments.
He'd had curly hair, pulled back from his head in thick rows along his skull, and she'd used it to hold his mouth to her pussy, to her clit, forcing his tongue where she wanted it. She'd held his lips to her tits and made him suck. The next time he'd lost control, she put a ring around his cock and rode him until he was chafed and aching.
But he hadn't begged to come. He'd learned quickly. She wanted control of everything.
It was the beatings that were the worst (at least that's what he'd thought at first, he'd changed his mind later). Her mouth around his cock, getting him hard and ready, his body responding whether he wanted to or not, then a cock ring to keep him hard, and she'd beat him with a knotted rope or a belt. Until his back was black and blue, and the welts had split bloodily. Then she'd force him onto his back and ride him to orgasm after orgasm, only letting him come when she chose.
He'd gotten damn good at control. At keeping himself reined in. She'd taught him to fuck her in the ass, how to open her up, get her slick with some lube, how to put on a condom. Then she'd put him on his back again and slip a toy into her pussy before she straddled him and fucked her ass on his cock. Technically he guessed it was always her fucking him.
When he'd turned fourteen and started shaving, he'd cut his curls as close to his scalp as he could and shaved his head bald. No beard. No hair for her to wrap around her fist. She'd been furious. That had been the longest, worst, beating yet. She'd taken his dick in every hole and left him cuffed to the bed, ring still around his cock.
He'd hated her. Hadn't known he could hate anyone like that. Hated sex. Hated how good it felt. How bad it felt. How she ruled him through his dick and pain. Nothing he could say or do, who'd believe him? The kid someone had left in a trash can. Against a woman who'd taken in hundreds of kids while her husband flew cryo ships for years at a time. How many lives had she screwed up? How many boys had she turned into abusive qīngwā cāo de liúmáng or worse tā mā de pedos.
The husband came back once while he'd been in the home, and she'd left him alone for three weeks. It had been the best three weeks of his existence.
Fifteen, he'd met a girl at school. Jeannie. Flirty, but sweet, soft mouth, gentle hands, light brown wavy hair and creamy tan skin. He'd kissed her after they'd flirted for a month…and she'd kissed him back, hesitant but eager.
It had been the first time since he'd watched the girl across the street that he'd thought of sex as something he could have without HER. Six months…talking at school, walking home as far as they could together. And stolen days at her house, ditching the afternoon's worth of lessons now and then, petting and necking and finally fucking. For weeks, learning that sex could be enjoyable for him beyond a hard orgasm twisted with pain. She'd been so sweet to him. Touched him like he mattered. Touched all of him not just his dick.
SHE had left him alone for a week or two; she did, once he got older, like he wasn't as appealing when he looked more like a man than a boy. He'd hoped she was getting tired of him, wanted it, and simultaneously dreaded seeing her go into some other kid's room to start her sick games on a new victim. Wasn't sure he could let it happen again. But someone must have told her about him and Jeannie because when he came home from his girl's arms, SHE was waiting.
Back in her bed. Like he was back in hell. A whole night of it. No school for him the next day. Hearing her tell the other boys that he'd caught something, and she didn't want them to get sick. Cuffed to her bed again like her stud for service for three days in a row. He got so he hated the smell of her, the sound of her voice, the feel of her skin and hair like sandpaper against his.
Finally, she let him up, told him to shave the disgusting beard off his face, and he could have something to eat. Then he was going to come back and fuck her again. Like it was something he was doing to her.
Thinking she had him under control. Her control. Again.
Mistake. Letting him shave. Letting him shave with the straight razor all the boys used when they got old enough. The sharpening strap hung in the bathroom next to the sink. Hone the blade until the edge was like a scalpel.
He learned that a kill could be almost more satisfying than sex. If it was the right kill. That blood smelt like copper when it hung in the air and thickened. That a shot of peppermint schnapps with the smell of blood in his nose and the back of his throat tasted like the sweetest victory.
Phyrric victory he'd learned it was called. Because she'd won. No matter what. The rest of his life was fucked. At least she'd never be able to hurt anyone else. That was the only satisfaction he got.
Salt. Warm, wet, salty tears, River's mouth, kissing him, her hands petting his scalp. "Never…she can't touch you anymore," Sweet woman, trying to comfort him and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing the salt from her lips.
"She's dead," He assured her.
"Glad she's dead," Oh those fierce dark eyes. "We are going to give you back control Riddick." A sweet firm kiss. "When you're in the mood. Not when the dreams make you want." Good thought, not that it was needed at the moment. Funny how the dreams left him hard and aching and wanting to be sick at the same time but deliberately thinking about it had turned that arousal to ash.
"Wouldn't mind messing around some now," He stroked a lock of hair away from her face, tucked it behind her ear.
"Want to give you a blowjob," River told him bluntly. "When you want one," She added. "Not necessarily now." She coaxed him into sitting upright on the edge of the mattress and climbed off the bed, kneeling between his legs. She took his hand and put it at the nape of her neck, "Long hair, for him to wrap around his fist." River's sweet smile, kitten tongue licking her lips. "For him to hold her mouth on him. Any way that he wants. You in control. Not me. Not HER."
He hadn't ever had anyone kneel in front of him like this, trusting him to not hurt her, "River…" Riddick frowned. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of forcing anyone's mouth somewhere.
"Doesn't have to be force," She pressed her lips to his knee. "Don't have to move my mouth, don't even have to grip, but this way, you are in control. For you to decide how you want it. For you to take as much or as little as you need." He wasn't sure, didn't want to lose control and hurt her, couldn't stand to treat her the way that bitch had treated him. "Riddick," He met her eyes again. "It is your choice. I want to pleasure you. I want to taste your cock in my mouth, if that is what you'd like. What do you want?"
He'd thought about it, over the years, what someone else's mouth, someone he liked, would feel like. He hadn't ever wanted Jeannie to do anything that SHE did. Didn't want the two of them mixed up in his head. Didn't want to risk hurting Jeannie. Hated the thought of hurting River.
"I…" He took a deep breath, "Dunno how well this'll work." He admitted, "But I'd like to feel your mouth on me River. That sweet tongue…"
She nodded, a little shy, "Haven't ever done this before." She confessed quietly, "Hope it isn't a disappointment."
"That makes it better," He told her truthfully. "No way you'll feel like that jiàn huò to me. We're both…learning what feels good." Oh, that sweet smile and he felt the silk of her hair slip over his palms, stroked his fingers through the long locks and let himself feel. Her tongue, warm and soft, licking the head of his cock. Her mouth stretching around his girth as he watched her. "Cào dàn…River…baby that feels so good."
Dark eyes looking up at him and gentle fingers petting his shaft as she released the head from her mouth. "Want me to keep going? Not sure how far you'll…fit." She blushed a bit and he grinned.
"You feel so good I might just come in your mouth before we're both ready," He wondered if he'd ever stop feeling like losing control was wrong.
"Read about ejaculating on a girl's face, or chest," She kissed the head and licked over him again and he groaned.
"If I come in your mouth, you don't gotta swallow," He told her as she sucked gently down past the head. "Know that it ain't for everyone."
Carefully releasing him, making sure the sensitive skin didn't scrape along her teeth, "I want to try please." She murmured. "May I?"
"If you want," He could feel himself getting harder, wouldn't have thought he could ever be in the mood for any sex much less this but fuck, her mouth felt so good, her tongue, tracing the veins, lips sinking down him. And her scent… fuck her scent, thick and heavy in the air, better than blood, River's arousal, the scent of her slick. "Spread your legs, let me see you," He urged, and she shifted as much as she could between his knees. His hand tightened in her hair, and he groaned, "Cào dàn…River… I'm…"
She moaned around his dick, and he shuddered as every bit of control he'd ever learned evaporated at the feel of her mouth, her tongue, her hands gentle on his balls, wrapped delicately around the base of his cock, and came like an epiphany into her mouth.
Panting like he'd just run a marathon, carefully letting go of her hair, watching her lick her lips, swallowing and press a kiss to his inner thigh. She stood and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her close and pressed his lips to her ribs, her cleavage, hands rubbing over her skin. "Like how you taste," River petted his scalp. "Though I should drink some water too."
"If you want. Don't have to," He wasn't sure how he felt about it. It really hadn't ever come up. Part of him liked it. Part of him was curious about why guys made a big deal about kissing a woman after she'd given them a blowjob. And another part was reminded of all the prison bitches whose mouths smelled like whatever cock they'd been sucking.
"Don't need to figure everything out right now," She moved across the small bunk to the sink, washing her face and mouth, drinking some water. "Wet for you," She shivered in the air, and he loved that he could see those breasts swollen with want, tips wrinkled tight, aching for his mouth. "Will you watch me? Touch myself for you? If you don't want sex?"
"I always want you," Riddick pulled her close. "Will you let me try to put my mouth on you?"
"Riddick, it's about what you want to do, not what you feel you should do," River's hands petted his scalp. "Touch me, watch me, but only do what you want," She smiled up at him as she climbed back onto the bed. "I wanted to put my mouth on you. If you're not comfortable doing that to me right now then don't, I'd rather have you honestly love watching me, fucking me, than force yourself to do something. I don't want you to do anything that doesn't feel right."
She'd feel it if he tried to push and do something he didn't want, Riddick realized. Like their first time together when she'd known he was holding back. She needed honesty from him more than she needed his mouth somewhere that had always made his skin crawl. "Let's start out with you baby," He nodded. "See how I do." River smiled at him shyly and slid her hand down between her thighs, and he couldn't look away. "Spread those gorgeous thighs for me River," He muttered and watched as she let her knees fall back. Pink and slick and flushed with want, so beautiful. "Might not have the patience to wait baby," He admitted. "Might need to fuck you until you're coming around me."
"Might like that a lot," She grinned at him. "Love when you hold me down Riddick. Love that you're strong enough, big enough, to restrain me. Nobody else could."
Now that had a lot of possibilities…
He hadn't quite got there that night, or the next. But when River fell asleep in his bed waiting for him to come off his shift, he had a thought that maybe he could seduce her awake with his mouth. Thought that it might be easier for him to start with her unaware, so long as she woke up and still wanted it during. He remembered that fantasy he'd had of putting his mouth to her, making her scream with want, tasting how she gushed over his mouth… he'd wanted that. Couldn't believe how bad he'd wanted it. Before he'd even kissed her, he'd wanted it.
Shave. Quickly and quietly so he wouldn't chafe her skin. Stripping off his clothing, pulling the quilt and sheet back, and gently spreading her knees. Lying between her legs and pressing his mouth to the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Feel a shiver rise over her skin, a soft mewl. Breathe in the musky scent of her. This was River. His River. He wanted to make her feel good, wanted to taste her and know he'd brought her like that.
Gently parting her with his fingers, find her clit with the tip of his tongue and circle it. His reward, a moan and her slick beginning to coat her skin. He'd done that. Yes… repeat and then lick with the flat of his tongue, stem to stern, taste her juices. How could she taste so good? He'd hated… No. Don't bring HER into this. This was for him and River. River was his. Tease her flushed clit with the tip of his tongue again and she moaned, louder, waking with the caress.
"Riddick…" He loved how she moaned his name. How her hand touched his head but didn't clutch at him. Gentle fingers stroking over the smooth skin of his scalp before she fisted both hands in the bedding, "Ohh… oh that's…"
Yeah, he could do this, hell, wanted to do this, he just might have found a new kink, making River scream his name while he feasted on her. Wrap his lips around her clit and suck gently, alternate that with flicks of his tongue, her rising moans, begging, hips trying to move with his mouth until he grabbed her hips and held her still.
Incredibly that seemed to turn her on even more, her entire body shuddered and quaked in his grip while he devoured what he'd claimed. A moan that rose to a wail of his name as she came in hard wet pulses on his tongue, and he groaned his satisfaction. Fuck he was hard now, wanted to fuck her good, suck those pretty, tight, tits and come in her.
"Yes, please…Riddick…fuck me…" She moaned and he loved that she still said please, no demands, just wanting him. Rise over her body, knees still over his shoulders and rub his cock against her pussy. So hot and wet…suck a lovebite to the back of her knee and lower her legs to wrap around his waist. Push inside her, slow, careful, so tight after she'd come, don't hurt her…
Oh, fuck yes, she took him so well, his hips met hers and eagerly her hands drew his body down to press against her, kissing him eagerly. He could feel those tight budded nipples rubbing against his chest and groaned, rolling his hips against hers, letting her adjust to the feel of him until he thought he'd go crazy. "Now River," He growled against her mouth. "Can you take it?" He needed to know before he turned himself loose.
"Need it. Need you. Let go," She moaned between kisses.
That was all he needed. One hand under her pì gu, holding her, the other beneath her spine, hard jolting thrusts of his cock, hips slamming to hers. Face pressed to her shoulder, as he pounded away, grunting like an animal over her.
Tight, she was so tight, winding around him, clinging even as he hit the end of her and kept hammering her deeply. She gasped in his ear and for a half-second he thought he'd hurt her, until he heard the guttural moan of pleasure that followed, her body starting to shiver as it gripped his dick. "Unghh…yes… yes please…Riddick…please…fuck me…come in me…"
He could die right here and now and be happy. Strange thought to pop in his head. He wanted to do everything with this woman. He could feel it begin, tingling at the base of his spine, hot prickles of bliss, felt her gasp, mewl his name and open for him, he hadn't though he could go any deeper but there… Hitting the end of her with each stroke, so good, he wouldn't last… "Tiān shā de…" He groaned into her shoulder, "Come for me River. Come on my cock, I'm gonna…" He wouldn't last much longer, needed to come…
"Yes," She shuddered, and he lost control, slamming his hips to hers one last time with a roar of ecstasy as his orgasm boiled through him, fire shooting up his spine, through his dick, boiling out of him as he ground into her body. A gasp and a moan, River, trembling under him, he'd finished without her damnit. Still semi hard, hand between their bodies, rub her clit, rough vertical strokes and suck her tits. A cry of pleasure as she quaked and shook around him, and he sighed, glad he hadn't left her wanting.
Part of him wanted to keep going, wanted to suck on her tits and get hard while he was inside her, fuck her over and over. But reason prevailed. They had a job tomorrow and they'd need sleep.
River's arms petted his spine and scalp, "Sleep Riddick, stay with me like this and sleep."
He rolled to his side and brought her with him, pulled the quilts over them both, where the hell the sheet had gone, he had no clue, (didn't care at the moment) and let sleep claim him.
Author's Note: So Riddick's history is something I had in mind from the very beginning. It seemed like something that was entirely possible and provided one explanation for some of the behaviors we've seen. I've been kind of hinting at it in the earlier chapters, but I didn't want it to be incredibly obvious to anyone.
Chinese Translations:
jiàn huò (bitch / slut)
qīngwā cāo de liúmáng (frog fucking hooligans)
tā mā de (damn it! / fucking) (taboo curse)
Cào dàn (damn it! / fuck! (vulgar) / Satan (loan) / devil)
pì gu (butt)
Tiān shā de (Goddam! / goddamn / wretched)