Stay with me… this part is proving to be a struggle…

Her mouth softened under my own. I felt it in the same manner that I felt the soft throb of her heartbeat against my chest. Her taste was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Sweet? Savory? Whatever it was, she coursed through my blood like the amaretto I favored. I settled into the cradle of her body, gentled my hold on her, the abusive pressure of my mouth.

I said her name again, into her open mouth, and heard her groan. My body shifted subtly, rubbing my hardening cock against the thin barrier of her underwear. Another noise escaped her. I moved, the knife moved with me. I heard her cry out and choke it off, not a second later. She was bleeding. It was an accident, but still, her neck was cut and so, too, was the moment we had shared briefly. It had been severed like an artery, all the passion just spilled out of us.

I blinked, reminded sharply, harshly, that I was, in fact, a killer. The fine tremble that settled into her body did nothing to help me, it only made me angry. I was angry in the same way a parent is angry with a child that won’t stop screaming. It was unreasonable. It, I knew, in my fogged mind, would only make it worse. I - me - couldn’t afford to lose the fragile grip I had on my self-control. She brought out too much of me, she triggered too much of my base self.

The teeth marks on my neck chose that moment - that moment! - to assert themselves. Our relationship, such as it was, wasn’t blooming, it was dying - dead - by her hand and interred by my own willingness to abuse her for it. I cursed and the sound growled out of me.

I stared down at her face, with its wide eyes, parted mouth, and forced myself to retreat from her. ‘You aren’t as cold as you would have me believe.’ I looked down her body, her stomach was sucked in, breathing shallow, making the effort to keep at little of herself from touching me as she could. ‘It’s almost like old times.’ I smiled. ‘Maybe you’d welcome a good fuck.’

She didn’t move, didn’t respond, but only stared at me with eyes that begged and hated all at once. My neck pulsed, I felt it fuel my rage. It burned in my stomach, in the cock, that I noted, was rigid and pressed into her stomach. I moved the blade further from her neck, studied the crimson that coated the edge. ‘Just like old times, in fact.’ I looked at her, felt her deeper breathing underneath me, ‘except, I didn’t need this to subdue you.’

I tossed the knife a distance away from us and it landed with a dull thump on the thick carpet. My palm found and cupped her bare breast, brushed over the crest and then dropped lower. I moved only slightly from her so that I could make better contact with her skin, my fingers seeking out and finding her warmth like a magnet.

My mouth found her chin and she turned her head away, afraid, I thought then, of another kiss that might show her vulnerability to me. I trailed my mouth along her jawline, down to the curve of her neck. I licked her pulse, said her name again.

She made a noise as her lips parted, a sob sounded in my ear. It was only then I realized she was crying. ‘Why?’

My body jerked in an unwilling answer to her question, as if the cells themselves screamed an answer for her to hear. For my part, I leaned down and finally, brutally, sank my teeth into her neck. It was her pain I wanted and when she screamed loudly, I felt it echo down my back, and I celebrated it. Blood, hers, welled in my mouth. I felt her hands, one strongly, the other weakly against me, trying desperately to separate me from her skin. Her tears fell so rapidly that they soaked my cheek and I tasted their salt at the corner of my mouth.

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This entry was posted on Thursday, March 27th, 2008 at 4:39 am and is filed under Abduction: Awakening. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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