by Amity Cross
Once we arrived at my apartment block, X parked his bike in the lot outside and followed me into the foyer. The security entrance had been broken long before I’d moved into the dump, the only safe place in the entire building was now behind the locked door of my shoebox apartment on the third floor. He moved silently as we ascended, the cold stairwell that was poorly lit with broken fluorescent lights. It was cheap for a reason and none of them were good.
I swear the guy next door was a drug dealer and the lady down the way was either a crack whore or ran a meth lab in her kitchen. Either scenario was just as bad.
Unlocking my apartment, I stepped into the darkness. I didn’t make a move to switch on the light, remembering the last time we were here together. The whole night was seared into my brain, complete with the rabid desk fucking back at The Gambler’s Inn.
X closed the door behind him, the deadbolt clicking home. I turned to watch him, waiting to see what he would do. Would he be rough like the first time he kissed me, or would it be like the way he fucked me in my bed. Slow and tender?
Still, I wasn’t prepared when he sprang to life, his eyes flashing with a need I couldn’t fathom.
X grabbed me around the waist and pushed me roughly against the wall, pinning my body with his. His lips collided with mine and he pushed his tongue into my mouth greedily, kissing me with a desperation that was unsettling. His control was slipping and whatever that meant for me, I didn’t know. One thing was for certain, I was going to wake up tomorrow utterly and completely fucked, counting the bruises his touch left behind.
His hands tore at my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. It landed on the floor with a dull thud and then my T-shirt was dragged over my head, tearing our lips apart. Shoving at his leather jacket, the one that marked him as a dangerous son of a bitch, he dropped his arms away and let it fall.
I grasped greedily at his belt, working the leather free from the buckle and fumbling with the button on his jeans. I needed his skin against mine…I needed it. I felt like I’d drown without him. He’d anchor me in this crazy darkness. In this crazy motherfucking world that threatened to consume me with blood and murder…X would either save me or destroy me, but I was beyond caring which it would be.
Lifting me up, he carried me to the bedroom, his teeth and lips scarring my skin, branding me with his mark. He dumped me onto the bed and undid the button on my jeans and tugged them off, making short work of my knickers. He kneeled on the floor, spreading my legs wide and dragged me across the mattress to meet him. With one swift movement he leaned down and licked my pussy, biting down hard on my clit.
“Fuck,” I gasped, my back arching off the mattress.
As suddenly as he’d attacked my pussy with his mouth, he moved upward, sucking and biting a path to my breasts. Unclasping my bra, he flung it over his shoulder and latched onto my right breast, inflicting pleasure and pain with his mouth on my nipple before moving to the other. I rubbed my crotch against his stomach, latching my legs around his waist, unable to control my reaction.
X pushed himself to his feet and as with the first time he’d fucked me, he flipped me over onto my stomach. Curling his fingers into my hair and shoved my face into the mattress, his other hand clamped down on my hip, forcing me up onto my knees. My backside was in the air again and I found myself hoping he’d fondle my ass as well as my pussy. I drew in ragged breaths as I felt him position himself between my legs, his feet still on the floor.
His hand left my hair and he palmed my ass cheeks, hissing through his teeth. Rubbing his hot and hard cock between my folds, a hand came around and began fondling my clit. I felt my arousal spark and I began rolling my hips, increasing the friction against his cock. I was so hungry for him to take me, to feed me with his desire, that I turned my head so I could stare up at him.
X always found a way for me not to look at him while he fucked me, like it was a connection he didn’t need or want. Looking up at him now, I understood. His mask was gone and his true self seemed to be surfacing. As if he sensed my gaze on him, his eyes flew open and he snarled. Covering my body with his he grabbed my hair again and forced my gaze away, breaking the connection I wanted so badly from him.
Was he really incapable? Or was it something else?
Without warning, X thrust hard, burying his cock deep into my pussy. I cried out, shockwaves of pleasure and pain jackknifing through all my nerve endings. My body’s reaction was to pull away, but strong hands held me firm. I wiggled my ass against X’s pelvis, rubbing his balls and driving him deeper still and he moaned loudly.
I felt his body tremble against the back of my thighs as he held steady, reigning in whatever dark desire was brewing in his black heart.
“Let it go,” I gasped, my death wish erupting from my lips before I knew it was coming. I’d lost it, totally and completely. I was at X’s mercy.
He pulled out slowly, the emptiness that he left behind aching more than when he was filling it to unbearable levels.
Abruptly, he drove into me again and the force pushed a cry from my lungs. He struck so deep it was painful, but what a fucked up beautiful pain it was. He pulled out again and this time, he didn’t stop. He bent to my desires and let go.
We came together again and again, sweat beading over our bodies, the air filling with the heady scent of sex. It only drove me further into madness as I reared back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust in sticky slaps that mingled with our desperate moans.
This trumped the fuck on Weiss’ desk tenfold. It trumped every sexual experience I’d ever had. X erased everything and everyone that came before and I was glad. I was glad the monster had claimed me.
I was so fucked up.
X continued his onslaught until I could hardly keep myself upright. He reached around and pinched my clit, the only gesture he’d ever made to spike my pleasure during our fucking, but he hadn’t needed to before. I fisted my hands into the sheets, the pillow muffling my cries as my body succumbed to sensory overload. My reaction only seemed to spur X on and he came, spilling into me with a deep grunt. He slapped my ass hard, the crack splitting the air and searing my skin.
Finally, he pulled out and shoved me down onto the bed, but I was too out of it to care or bite back. I lay there on my side, totally exposed and I didn’t give a fuck. The mattress dipped as he collapsed next to me, our chests heaving in tandem. His scent…X smelt so male, it was overwhelming like a fucking aphrodisiac. Asshole.
“X?” I whispered.
He slid his hand over my waist, pulling me onto my back and caught my mouth with his. So, he didn’t want to talk then. Not even a little.
His tongue twined with mine, tasting, exploring, becoming more urgent as his cock sprang to life again. Rubbing against my thigh, he moaned softly into my mouth, his hand finding my clit and pressing deeper through my folds.
I rolled my hips upward, forcing his fingers further into me and his palm against my clit, and began fucking myself against him. X tore his lips from mine and transferred his weight on top of my body, my legs spreading to let him settle right where I wanted him. His cock slid through my folds and across my clit as he increased the friction between us, his arms settling on the pillow either side of my head.
I was torn apart, but my body craved more, like a magnet for pain. I wrapped my legs around his waist, anchoring him to me, urging him to pull me back onto him and fill me with his cock, to take me to the edge and into the abyss again.
It was the same as last time. A violent fuck, followed by a tenderness that seemed almost foreign to him. When I woke in the morning, he’d be gone. I already knew how this was ending, but he was still here for now, on top of my body, taking pleasure from it and his cock was hard for me.
He kept coming back to The Gambler’s Inn for me.
With a groan, he pressed the head of his cock against my opening and drew back. My lips parted against his jaw, my skin rasping against the stubble he’d forgotten to shave for a few days. His mouth sought mine an
d he licked into me desperately as he filled my pussy with his length. As he slid home, I moaned into his mouth, digging my fingernails into his ass cheeks and raking them upward to his back.
He tore his lips from mine and lowered his face into the crook of my neck as he drew his cock back and plunged in again. He fucked me in long, deliberate strokes, slapping into my clit with just the right amount of pressure to send sparks through my entire body.
Shivering in his grasp, sweat began to prickle on our skin as he took solace in my body, fucking away whatever demon needed to be appeased in his soul. I was fine with that. I was more than fine, he soothed my own fears with his cock. The monster himself chased away the demons lurking underneath my bed.
He never spoke, he never raised his gaze to mine, and for all I knew I could’ve been just a faceless woman to him. No, that wasn’t true. He could have anyone he desired, but he was with me. It was my pussy he fucked, my mouth he filled with his cock. Mine.
X increased his pace, pounding harder into me as his orgasm neared. I felt my own welling to the surface, just hovering underneath, begging to be set free. It felt so fucking good, but his steady pace was only holding it at bay, it was doing nothing to pulse it through my body.
I moaned desperately, thrusting my hips up to meet his, coaxing him to fuck harder. I pleaded with my body and he listened.
X sunk his teeth into the crook of my neck and began thrusting hard and my orgasm exploded through me. I came so hard, stars began to prickle through my vision as I arched my back off the mattress, jamming my chest against his. My pussy squeezed his cock, milking him as he kept pounding and then his release was spurting hot and hard inside me.
We’d fucked in some of the most intense ways physically, but this time something had shifted between us. After all this time running and hiding and severing every connection between the human race and my new life, it was X who I chose. I chose the monster.
I’d barely came back down to earth, when X pulled out, rolling off me. His breath came in heaving gasps and he threw an arm over his eyes, blocking out the world.
“X?” I whispered through a ragged breath.
He grunted, lowering his arm across the pillow. An invitation for me to shift closer. I slid against him, tangling my legs with his, my whole body humming. He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, closing his eyes.
Last time, I’d fallen asleep before him and woken after he’d gone. This time, his guard had slipped even further and he’d fallen asleep first. Something was troubling him, but I didn’t even know if it was something I could help with. He wouldn’t tell me in the first place.
X awake was a whole can of worms that I wasn’t sure how to take, but X asleep? He had a boyish ruggedness about him and a vulnerability that had never seemed to have surfaced before. His cool, controlled exterior had melted away and something of the man underneath seemed to seep out, whoever that man was.
X turned his head toward mine, whimpering slightly in his sleep, his arm tightening around me. Stiffening slightly in his grasp, I peered at him, waiting for his eyes to fly open and catch me trying to crack his code...but he didn’t wake, he just went on dreaming whatever fucked up scenario was playing out in his head.
Recklessly I traced a finger over his tattoo, wondering the meaning, wondering why he had a space of nothing where his heart should be. I stilled as my finger ran over raised lines all over his ribs. The tattoo hid them so well that I hadn’t noticed, but his whole side seemed to be covered in scars. Some were long, some were short, some were tiny round lesions and some were raised more than others. What the hell?
X was a closed book ninety-nine point nine percent of the time and ironically, I seemed to get more from him asleep than awake. He was the ultimate puzzle. A puzzle I desperately wanted to solve.
Sighing, I nestled into his side, relishing the one sliver of quiet time with him before morning. Because who the fuck knew if I’d ever get it again.
Chapter 13
X
Something was wrong with me.
Mercy Reid. Mercy Reid and her fucking pussy. That’s what was wrong with me.
I stared at the pieces of the puzzle plastered to my apartment wall and rubbed my cock through my jeans. I’d left her sleeping in her bed hours ago, sleeping like an innocent little lamb unknowingly waiting to go to the slaughter. I kept going back and she kept letting me. Stupid little girl.
I could still feel her on my cock, even after the hour long shower scrubbing my skin raw.
Was it a new compulsion rising to the surface? I didn’t know. I didn’t know shit about why I had to do things. I just did them and everything was right.
I forced my thoughts onto the ghost that the imagination of Crazy Eddie, from the teahouse, had conjured. I didn’t know if I believed in doppelgängers and evil shadow selves, but I did believe that people had the potential to do dark things, no matter how good they believed themselves to be.
If Alison Crawford had changed her appearance, then the photo stuck to my wall of the virginal looking University graduate meant shit. Getting out a black marker, I leaned against the wall and colored in her hair. Black, like the darkness Crazy Eddie had said she’d turned to.
Dropping the marker I pressed my forehead against the papers stuck to the wall.
I needed to kill. I needed to feel blood run through my fingers. I needed the pain and suffering. My soul was black and I needed to feed it with death. I needed to erase Mercy Reid from my mind and body by completing the contract and crossing out a face. I needed to fulfill my compulsion and everything would be right in my twisted world again.
Snatching the photo, I shoved it into my pocket and slid on my heavy black coat, leaving the Royal Blood leather on my sofa. I didn’t need anything tying me back to the Club when I went out asking questions. This had to go down low key, under the radar.
I was close, I could feel it. Freedom was just out of reach, waiting for me to stride forward and take it. I just had to find where Alison Crawford was hiding.
I knew how to persuade people and if she was in the city…I’d find her. It was only a matter of time.
I was coming for her and I wouldn’t stop until I had what I wanted.
I’d been to almost every dive and seedy establishment in the west side of the city before I strayed close to familiar territory. The east was crawling with Necromancer assholes, and I doubted Alison Crawford was stupid enough to seek refuge there.
I stood on a dark street outside a club, a few blocks over from The Gambler’s Inn. Staring up at the sign over the door, I curled my lips in displeasure. The Satricorn was the epitome of sleaze. It was more than a strip club, it operated several of Royal Blood’s shady dealings and served as a place to send the men Greggor was looking to bring into the fold for a little bit of fun. A free fuck or a free suck. Their words.
People on the street called it Fancy's and not because it was a fancy fuck hole. Fancy's was a completely ironic name for a dirty as fuck operation.
The bouncer coughed loudly and I strode forward, pushing inside. Thumping dance music blared through the entire place, already rubbing me the wrong way. A woman in nothing but a pair of black shiny high heels danced around a pole, flashing her bits to the group of men seated around the stage.
The thought of indulging made my cock shrivel up. Cheap. Nasty. The whole place stunk of stale liquor and something a little more disgusting. Male ejaculation.
Leaning over the bar, I gestured to the woman serving. She was this big breasted, bleached blonde, Barbie doll. Fit right in.
“What can I get you?” she yelled over the music.
“I need to speak with your boss,” I replied.
“That’d be Sammy,” she said, raking her gaze up and down my body. Obviously liking what she saw, she leaned forward, squeezing her tits together with her arms.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” I said blandly.
She huffed, pissed that I’d disregarded her so bluntly, and disappe
ared out back. Surveying the club, I spotted several CCTV cameras across the roof. One over the bar where I waited, two angled at the area in front of the stage, another over the exit and one over the bathrooms. They looked cheap, the vision, if they caught any, would be grainy at best in this darkness.
I straightened as I caught sight of a man walking towards me, the blonde bitch from behind the bar following in his wake. His hair was slicked back, his shirt was some offensive kind of red silk and his suit jacket was ill fitting. He looked the fucking part all right. He must be this Sammy fucker. I now understood with perfect clarity why people called the guy Fancy Freddy behind his back.
“You looking for the boss?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the music.
“You’re him?” I replied, looking the guy up and down again.
“Yeah, that’s me. You’re that Royal Blood guy,” he said, waving a hand at me. When I raised my eyebrow at him, he said, “Yeah, we’ve heard about you.”
“I’m sure you have,” I drawled, not paying any attention to the mostly naked women hovering around the edges of my vision. Sex was one thing I never had to pay for and I didn’t intend on starting any time soon.
“You know, some of you bikers are our best customers,” Sammy went on. “I’d be glad to give you a freebie.” He clicked his fingers and the closest woman slinked to his side, eyeing me with delight.
I eyed her with distaste. I didn’t share and I especially didn’t share bodily fluids with a hundred other men that had been through her in the last week.
“Not. Interested,” I said.
The woman pouted, sticking her tits out even further. She obviously liked being treated as an object, the stupid little girl.
“I’m looking for someone,” I said to the sleazebag, getting to the point. Holding out the photograph to him, I raised an eyebrow.
Sammy plucked it from my fingers and peered at the altered photograph of Alison Crawford. “She’s a pretty one.”