Chapter 25
She’s terrified. Containing myself turns impossible the moment her cherry scent fills my bedroom. My sanctuary. The one place I let myself release the beast; I let the thoughts consume me without consequence.
I read her emotions like a book. Her eyes dart between the bed where her phone lays and back to the door. Her escape. Not happenin’.
Shouldn’t have brought her in here. The voices are screaming so loud I can’t think. Just need to make myself bleed. Need molly, anything to have her stop invading my thoughts.
Tie her up. Ruin her. Take what’s mine.
Anger, wrath, the fucked-up desire to destroy anything in my path. Leave nothin’ left.
It’s a sickness.
“Shut up,” I scream, doubling over. The knife clatters to the cluttered floor. I fist my hair and yank so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t rip out. Anything to silence the noise.
She gasps, and her breathing picks up. I scent her fear. “I-I didn’t say anything,” she whispers, confused by my psychotic outburst.
The voices quiet for a single moment. Slowly, I look up into her deep, hypnotizing eyes. My face is strung with a maniacal grin. “No, you didn’t," I say slowly, confirming her observation.
Have I finally hit a psychotic break? Her face twists in a confused stare.
Can’t figure out if her lack of understanding and inability to stay the fuck away is her being naive or is she’s drawn to this delirious, unhinged behavior.
How far she’s starting to fall, it sends a shiver of delight throughout my body.
I knew she would crawl to me. Can’t wait to watch her crumble underneath the fatal attraction.
I want to sink my teeth into her flesh and reel her into my delirium.
“Zain, you’re scaring me,” she breathes. She inches away, and I can’t fuckin’ stand her looking at me that way. Pity. I don’t need fuckin’ pity. I want her to bleed, to suffer the same way I’m suffering. How I’ve always suffered.
I don’t answer her, instead I let my actions speak for me. Bending down, I pick up my discarded knife and look her over like a meal I want to fucking devour.
Slowly, I stalk towards her, my feet thudding against the floor with each menacing step. I eat up the space quickly, towering over her cowering little body in an instant.
Her lip trembles, and her eyes plead with me. As if I was capable of anything but unrequited rage, I deceptively gently move her dark hair away from her neck. Her pulse is beating wildly. It excites me.
I scrape the blade against her jugular. “Such a fuckin’ beautiful mess,” I murmur.
She doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, as if I’ll disappear and forget about her if she’s listless and unmoving. Not a fuckin’ chance. She’s wormed her way into my brain like a parasite, and I fuckin’ hate it.
Cut her. Make her cry. Taste her blood and tears. Fuck her until she breaks.
“Your blood was fuckin’ delicious,” my voice drops to a dangerous octave with each word that leaves my lips. I hiss in a deep breath against her neck, smelling her sweet salty sheen of sweat. “Want to taste you again. Fuckin’ need it.”
Her breaths come in quick succession. Her pupils dilate. “Taste me. I trust you,” her soft voice tells me on a wavering whimper.
Her words taste like desperation on my tongue.
It lights something within me. The sick beast inside rumbles in satisfaction.
She trusts me after I stole her clothes and fucked her with my knife handle?
I’m slowly bending her to my will…even though she’s destroying me in the process.
Only difference is I’m strong enough to come out on top in the end.
Breaking this hold she has on me will just be another scar I carry.
This is a long game, and I don’t do attachment.
“You shouldn’t.” I laugh darkly before pricking the blade against her neck, just above her veins.
One wrong move, and I could slit her throat.
She groans at the pinprick of pain. A crimson river drips down her salty skin, beading down her neck.
I wait, watching, before I allow my tongue to dance up her skin.
I grip her upper arm so tightly she’s gonna bruise.
She shivers against my tight embrace. The blood from my side has rubbed against her white sweatshirt, staining it with blotchy red hues. What a perfect sight to behold.
“Zain,” she shudders out as her eyes drift closed.
I scrape my teeth against her skin. My hands start to shake. On the verge of losing control. If I do that, I might just fuck this entire shit up.
Any other bitch would run for the hills. Not her. Wish I knew what was going on in that pretty head of hers.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asks like the meek little thing she is. Is it fear?
Curiosity? I stumble backwards and release her. Her eyes snap open. I’m heaving, probably looking animalistic, but so is she. Her cheeks are flushed a deep pink, and I’d bet if I were to check her cunt, she’d be fuckin’ soaked for me. She likes our fucked-up game it seems. Curiosity it is.
My voice drops low. “Are you askin’ what I wanna do or what I’m gonna do? Because those are two entirely different things, Songbird.”
Her green eyes flicker down to the bulge in my jeans. She swallows and blinks a few times, deciphering my motive no doubt.
Yeah, this is for you. Wanna fuck you until your body breaks. Choke you until you cry for your savior.
Contain the crazy, Zain.
Can’t scare her too quickly. It takes every ounce to not unleash the fucked-up side of me. Slowly, that part of me rears its ugly face. What point is too much for her? I flick my knife closed and drop it in my back pocket, calculating my next move.
“What do you…want to do?” she asks daringly.
Her innocence is gonna get her in deep shit if she doesn’t cut the nonsense.
The reality is she would run for the hills if she knew how deep my insanity goes.
Gone this far, might as well humor her. Worst case, I suppose I could tell her it’s all a fuckin’ joke.
Something tells me she wouldn’t believe that shit though.
I stalk closer again. She sidesteps me and her butt hits the bed, making her fall onto it.
Her body bounces.
The chain around my neck sways when I lean over her tiny little body. I see the reflection of my eyes in hers. Hallow, vacant, soulless. The complete opposite of hers.
“I wanna force those flimsy clothes from your skin and lock you away and use you. Wanna engrave my name so deep in your skin no one else will want you. Mark what’s
mine. Use your blood to paint that precious, virgin skin. I wanna lose myself in your taste, your blood, your cum. I wanna watch you struggle until you cry and fuckin’ beg me to stop. I’ll never stop. I don’t care, I fuckin’ want you. I’ll feed off your pain and tears.”
I close the distance, encroaching until she’s the only reality I see.
Her hot breath quickens against my mouth.
Her expression is unreadable, but I can feel her fear; I feed off it.
It’s a matter of time before she tries to run from me.
Not gonna let her. She stepped into a den of vipers, and she’s about to get bit.
“You won’t kill me. You would never hurt me,” she whispers, so certain of her words.
She shakes her head so quickly her scented shampoo slaps me in the face.
Not so sure I wouldn’t. My unstable chaos invades my psyche unless I medicate. “Don’t know,” I tell her honestly. My eyes drop down to her plush lips, and I think about
biting them and sucking the blood from her wound.
The room goes silent. She makes no move to leave, and I’m on the verge of losing it. “Fuck me,” she breathes.
What the fuck did she just say? My brain seizes. My demons stir, and so does my cock. It’s not just pulsing painfully in my jeans, it wants inside her. Needs inside her warmth.
“What the fuck?” I say under my breath. Does she think I’m kidding?
Instead of waiting to find out, I snatch her by her neck and force her to her feet.
I give her no option to take back her words.
My lips dance over the shell of her ear.
I slip into a state of entropy. My voice levels into a glassy, detached curiosity.
“You want to be broken, songbird?” I keep a tight grip on her neck as my thumb grazes over her pulsing veins.
My lips slam against hers in a hungering, possessive kiss.
She sputters and whimpers against my hold.
“Then let me break you.” My voice vibrates in my throat as I offer a rough, breathy groan against her lips.
I force her against the wall, my body slamming into hers so we’re smashed together.
Her face turns a beautiful shade of blue, and her nails score my chest at a desperate attempt to regain oxygen. My cock demands release from my jeans at her pain and suffering. My hands shake violently.
I release her forcefully. She wastes no time trying to escape the monster.
Her hands scratch and fight against my forearms and chest. She tries to overpower me, but I slam her wrists against the yellow nicotine-stained wallpaper.
“You asked for it. I don’t do gentle. No mercy.
You asked for this,” I growl deeply, reminding her this is exactly what she begged me for.
Just like I told her, I wouldn’t fuck her until she begs.
Knew she would. Despite her fear, she revels in the unknown just as I bask in her terror-filled cries.
Tears form in the corners of her eyes. To her, this is a nightmare; for me, this is a fuckin’ dream.
I fight the urge to cut her skin. Instead, my teeth pierce the delicate flesh of her neck until I taste that copper tang I crave. She roars in agony. I relish in it.
My body turns savage. The faint outlines of Jax’s bites are still present. I replace them with my own, making sure she knows exactly who’s going to own her.
Her body arches as she tries to wiggle from my grasp. Fuckin’ unless. I’m overtaken by pure unbridled pleasure and sick delight to take.
“Zain!” she screams. Not sure if it’s a plea to stop or an expression of pleasure. Don’t care. I won’t stop.
I rip at her flimsy leggings, wrenching them down her long legs. Instantly, I’m hit with the smell of her cunt. The air suddenly smells like her and only her. I feel like a wild, untamed animal, and I lack control. Something I’m not used to. Gotta have her to myself.
I use one hand to keep her locked in place by her wrist while the other hand fights with my zipper. My jeans drop to my thighs. My cock is ready to burst from my boxers. I rip at her soaked lace panties until they break free. I toss them with my other pile of mementos I’ve stolen from her. Fitting.
I unleash my member from my boxers; it slaps against my tattooed, scarred stomach. Her eyes widen, and she cries out in unintelligible tears when she sees I’m pierced. This is for you, songbird. Pre-cum pools at the tip, weeping at my pent-up desires.
“This is gonna hurt, songbird,” I warn her in a deep, husky voice.