It seems Rachel didn't tell Leo about our final encounter. The one where I...I probably shouldn't tempt myself, not tonight. But do I regret it? Tell me—if some exquisite creature lay down before you and offered your darkest desires, would you do what you wanted, or what you should? It was the end of all things for Rachel and me, yet because of that I'm here with Leo, who taunts me like a black market drug and fancies herself my antidote. God, if you could see her. You'd regret nothing.
You'd kill for five more minutes between her legs, and you'd choke any motherfucker who put up a challenge.
I pull out so fast that she squeals, shoving her belly down with one hand and scooping her forward with the other. Right into my mouth. Up she comes, panting and quivering, her clit almost hard on the tip of my tongue. But not harder than me—my cock throbs like she does, heavy and weightless at the same time.
We fall into a jagged war of a rhythm. It's the kind that skips beats because she's forcing her hips, the kind that provokes lustful anger. How much of this dirty girl can I get in my mouth? How slow can I drag my fingers inside her before she completely loses her shit? She's so wet I can barely keep my tongue on her, yet the way she's moaning, it won't be long...
Leo's so gone now that she doesn't notice my fist leave her thigh. I grope around for the scalpel, enclosing it fully in my hand before bringing it up again. I get a burst of her rapid pulse every time she closes her legs around my head; blood rushes past my eardrums in wave after wave of tide.
All her inner muscles begin to pull on my fingers. She's gasping, cursing, repeating my name. Any second now, baby. Even my cheeks are plastered with her, my nose full of her scent. Then she's almost yelling at me not to stop, don't stop, fuck, please don't stop, no, yes, yes, yes—
Yes—
And I'm exposing the blade—
Yes, Aeron, oh God—
And it's warm and waiting and hungry on her inner thigh—
Oh God God God I'm coming—
And she jerks right into the scalpel, tearing her skin, spurting scarlet across the left side of my face—
She screams. Pure, intoxicating pain and pleasure, throbbing into a mess she could never have expected and doesn't understand. Though I can't have that, I can't—what if some nosey ass neighbour hears her?—and so I'm throwing the scalpel sideways, yanking my track pants down, letting my cock slap out on her hot belly as I lurch upward to cover her mouth. She continues to yelp and struggle; little lion can see the blood on my face, though her protests steam damply into my palm. Her black button eyes are wide and crazy, fucked and beautiful. I hold her for long seconds until she quiets and slows.
"Good girl," I pant. "Good, so good." Because I'm going to have her now. Couldn't get up from between her legs if you put a gun to my head. Her wounded thigh is wrapped around my waist, blood going sticky on the cheek of my ass; I'll disturb it when I move inside her. Oh God. Yeah.
I run my free hand down her tied arms again, rub fresh blood toward her goose bumps. Another moment and I uncover her mouth.
"What have you done?" she hisses, half pained, half morbidly curious.
"Didn't do anything." I smooth her mussed-up hair. Roll my hips. My cock drops down to twitch against her wet, wet flesh. "You pushed yourself on to it. Bad Leo. Very bad."
"I—I'm bleeding."
"Mmm. Yes, you are." I kiss her throat. The pulse there, the hollows. The plain of smooth skin that leads to her jaw. Cold air in the welt of my spine; boiling body underneath me.
Her voice is so...vulnerable. She sounds like a small girl. "Am I okay...?"
"Probably not. Ah, sweetheart." I press into her, just an inch, but it's enough. I've wanted this for too long. "Can you feel that?"
"Yeah..." Her eyes fall closed. She zones out; I can almost see her fade. "A—Aeron."
"Baby." Another inch. Then another. She's seized up, all bunched and contorted from her interrupted orgasm, but so slippery that her body can't fight me. "You have any idea how often I've imagined this?"
She nods. Moans again.
Further inside her, almost...all the way. That's it. The moment she's full, we're both competing for breath, pushing against each other, desperate for friction. Every gasp she takes results in a shudder of warm muscle over my cock.
"There. Jesus. You still want to fight this?"
"No. No. I—"
I edge out before thrusting back in, hard.
She arches, her breasts mashing right into my chest. "Oh God!"
The rest of the room starts to fall away in blurred pixels. There's only Leo, this fluid girl underneath me, taking everything I give her, letting me in. I thought she'd become a canvas but it's different. Wicked and silver and crimson, dubious and—ah, fuck, I'm so sensitive I can barely stand the feel of her. I reach for her ass cheeks, splay my fingers across them, hold her up so I can go faster. Harder. Crush her clit against her pubic bone. Sloppy smacking sounds and vague mattress creaks punctuate our curses and moans. I've already lost parts of myself I'll never scrape back out of her, but fuck it.
All I care about is the taste of her still in my mouth, the feel of her in my hands, the sucking glide of her pussy.
Leo starts telling me she's close again.
I'm with her. All the way. All the way baby, good girl, so hard now—no control, what's control anyway, who gives a fuck about control?
Leontine comes on me with a cry and a mess of contractions, the kind that spill fresh blood on my buttocks and utterly fuck her sheets. I'm hammering into her, practically vibrating, and just when I feel like I've bruised half my pelvis, everything fades and ebbs and—
Oh, holy fuck.
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
Home
Aged 17
The thing is, I told her what I wanted. Maybe not in so many words, but I made it clear enough. Girls: I don't understand them. Not even Rachel. What, did she think it would tickle?
"It doesn't make it okay," she chokes out through her sobs, limping about my bedroom as she searches for her clothes. "You never said where!"
She's dripping blood on my hardwood floor, and I don't know whether to be annoyed by it or turned on. Adrenaline saws through the thrill of my recent orgasm and starts to irritate my nerves.
"Fine." I take a sip from my glass of liquor and Coke, watching the shadows in my dark room play on her naked skin. "Next time, we'll choreograph everything before we fuck. Happy?"
This only makes her tears spurt faster. For every heave of a sob, she clutches herself between the legs. "Fucking? We're fucking now?"
I give up.
"I can't find my tank top," she weeps. For some reason, she's searching behind my TV. Like there's anything behind there besides dust bunnies.
"It's in here somewhere."
"Why won't you help me?"
For a girl who doesn't like the word fucking, she's awfully eager to hump and dump me tonight. Not cool.
The time flashes on my clock radio: eleven forty-two. Shit. Mom will be home soon, probably with her man of the month, and there will be a whole other kind of noise to block out. One far worse than simpering Rachel.
"Aeron." She crumples against the wall, still clutching herself with one hand and holding her pink panties in the other. Her bare legs are a devil's mural, dark wet red swirled across pale skin. It's worse than usual—even I can see that. "I think...can you take me to the ER? Only it hurts more, and I keep bleeding, it's not going...away..."
I thrust my glass in her direction. "Last thing I need is a DUI."
"But how am I going to get home?"
I shrug. "Stay here."
She shakes her head slowly. "My curfew—"
"Bullshit. You told your mom you were staying at Lindsay's. I heard you on the phone."
"I don't want to stay," she whimpers. "I think I need a doctor."
"And how would you explain this to a doctor, huh? You'll just get into trouble. I thought you were smart?"
Nothing. She just starts to cry again.
Maybe I should've stuck to her thighs. She was getting used to that—even enjoyed it, goaded me on at times.
With feigned patience, I slip out of bed and pad over to kneel with her. She bends sideways into my embrace, her forehead jutting to seek my kiss.