Sick Fux

by Tillie Cole

  “Rabbit.” I lurched forward. He lifted his head. His mouth was closed and his lips were tight. He continued slicing into his chest as he stared at me. “Rabbit . . . what are you doing?” I asked as his blood spilled onto the white linen of the bed.

  Rabbit said nothing. Instead he picked up a pen from the table next to the bed. He snapped the pen in his hands, and as the ink spilled from inside, he spread it over his cuts, rubbing the ink into his wounds. I rushed forward and jumped onto the bed. “Rabbit! What are you doing?” My heart beat wildly with worry.

  Rabbit hissed as the ink sank in. Using the towel that had been around his waist, he wiped the blood and ink from his tattooed chest. As he pulled the towel away, my mouth dropped open and I gasped. “Rabbit . . .” I whispered. “Sick Fux.” My hand reached out and hovered over the words carved on his chest—words, for once, I recognized easily. Drops of blood sprouted from the letters. Without thinking, I ran my fingers through the warm liquid.

  Rabbit stopped breathing as I did so. His pupils grew wide as his eyes tracked my fingertips. I froze, fingers in midair, as his nostrils flared and his breathing began to quicken. I glanced down and saw him hardening under his sleep pants.

  He liked his blood on my fingers.

  Holding his attention, I rubbed my fingertips together, feeling his blood soak them. He groaned. As my fingers rubbed together, more blood escaped, ran down the side of my hand and onto my wrist. I brought my hand to my mouth and licked at the falling drop.

  Rabbit hissed. My eyes snapped to his. Rabbit’s neck was taut. His hands were fisted on the comforter. Breathless, I took another drop and circled it around my lips. His chest rose and fell. Leaning forward, I stayed just an inch from his face and licked my lips. My eyes fluttered closed. I now held a part of Rabbit in my mouth. I was taking his blood, his life force, into my soul.

  I felt a sharp object run down my face and a hand wrap around my neck. Smiling, my eyes rolled open. Rabbit was before me, his hard chest smeared with blood and ink. He tilted his head as his eyes locked on to my neck . . . on to my pounding pulse.

  “Little Dolly,” he said, voice so low I felt it all the way down to my bones. The tip of his thimble ran over my vein and traced across the front of my throat. My breasts ached as the cold metal touched my my skin. “So easily split open,” he whispered. His tongue licked around the shell of my ear.

  “I can see your veins, little Dolly. I can see how blue they are against your pale skin. I can see your pulse pounding, throbbing in your neck.” He breathed in the scent from my freshly washed skin. “It’s calling my name.” He smiled against my neck. “It’s telling me to taste you as you have tasted me.”

  “Yes,” I whispered and arched into his body. I felt the heat from his skin as soon as we made contact.

  His thimble dug into the side of my throat. His eyes narrowed as he studied my skin. “You’re tempting me, darlin’,” he drawled, as his nose gently followed the path of the thimble. His tongue lapped at my skin. I moaned at the feel of having him so close . . . wanting my blood.

  Blood he wanted to taste.

  “I have always wanted your blood in my mouth, running down my throat.” He pressed a soft kiss on my pulse. I shivered. “You held me mesmerized from the first moment I met you. Not by your smile, not by your eyes, but by your throat and your veins. By your pulse and the paleness of your skin. My little Dolly. My painted Alice from Wonderland.”

  “Rabbit,” I said hoarsely, my back arching as his other hand wrapped around my throat and began to squeeze.

  “When I apply pressure like this, your veins bulge. They beg to be opened.” He tightened his grip. “Your blood sings to me. Begs for me to take you how I want. How I have always wanted to.”

  “Do it,” I urged, tilting my head to offer him my neck.

  “Mmm,” Rabbit murmured. He released my neck from his grip and unfastened the buttons at the front of my nightgown. The humid air in the room stuck to my skin. I rubbed my lips together as my body was bared. As the material parted, he guided me down to the bed. He swung above me, his legs straddling my waist. His arms were braced on either side my head. As Rabbit’s silver eyes roved over my body, I watched a stray droplet of blood run from the “X” carved into his chest. It rolled forward to the bottom of his neck. I lifted my chest and caught the drop in my mouth. Rabbit groaned above me, and using the hand on my throat, he slammed me back to the mattress. I locked on to his stare, moaning as his eyes moved from hungry to completely wild.

  “Taste me.” I pushed my breasts up to rub against his chest. “Taste me . . . make me completely yours. Own me.” I looked him square in the eye. “Your Dolly. Own your Dolly.” I smiled. “Rabbit and Dolly . . . forever.”

  Rabbit growled. He dragged the tip of his thimble carefully along my throat, over the vein. I held back my cry when the cold metal sliced gently into my flesh. Warm blood trickled down my neck. I glanced at Rabbit. He was watching my blood like it was the tastiest treat he ever did see.

  “Dolly,” he rasped and ran his hand gently through my hair. He gazed into my eyes. His hand ghosted down my cheek, making me breathless.

  I wanted to give him my blood.

  Dolly’s lifeblood.

  Rabbit’s deepest need.

  Rabbit’s eyes got heavy. Then, as I felt a drop fall to my shoulder, Rabbit bent forward and ran the tip of his tongue over the escaping droplets. I moaned at the feeling of his hot tongue as it climbed up my shoulder, over the bottom of my neck, eventually hovering over the tiny cut he had made.

  His tongue flicked back and forth over my vein. My legs moved restlessly on the bed as his hand wrapped around my throat and held me down. My eyes flickered open, only to collide into Rabbit’s, watching me as he fed on my blood. Watching as I arched my body into his chest, breasts catching the blood from his newly cut tattoo.

  I moaned as he sucked on my skin, crying out at the brief sting of pain it caused. My hands raked through his hair. Rabbit groaned. Then he pulled back, releasing me from his lips. I fixed my gaze on his mouth. His lips were bloodstained, bright red. And he smiled. I swept my finger along his mouth, and my own blood gathered on it. I held his attention captive as I brought the finger to my lips.

  Rabbit’s grip pulsed on my throat. My tongue flicked out and I tasted the blood. That was all it took to make Rabbit crash his mouth to mine and kiss me hard. His tongue plunged into my mouth, and I cried out at the shock of it. Rabbit was kissing me. He was kissing me back. He meant it. I felt his need for me through our joined mouths.

  “Dolly,” he whispered against my lips. His mouth moved along my cheek, rubbing my blood into my skin with his lips. And he was kissing me. Moving down my neck and over my opened skin, his thimble traced down my chest to my breasts. I felt a pinch as he pushed the tip into the nipple on my left breast. His hand slipped from my throat and cupped my breast as he squeezed the flesh, causing a fleck of blood to bud on the tip. Rabbit growled as he wrapped his lips around me. His tongue flicked over my nipple as he took more of my blood.

  He moved to my other breast and did the same. He shifted to my torso and tracked prick after prick along my stomach and down across my hips. His mouth took from each small cut.

  Lapping.

  Licking.

  Drinking me down.

  He shifted his body between my legs and ran the tip of the thimble along the flesh of my inner thigh. My breath got trapped in my throat as I looked down at him. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, his intense gaze focused on me. I whimpered as I felt his warm breath ghost over my core.

  “Blood is the color of the heart,” he said, his voice raspy and raw. His thimble moved closer and closer to the apex of my thighs. He looked down at the slow movement of the thimble as it drew white lines along my delicate skin, threatening to break through. He lowered his mouth to the very top of my right thigh, his cheek brushing along my folds. He nipped at the flesh with his teeth, then let go, licking the tender spot he had bitten.
“Red, the color of blood.” He moved across to my other thigh and bit me again, his tongue soothing the pain his teeth had caused. “Red means stop. Red means danger.” He looked up at me, a stunning, sinister smile on his face. “It is the liquid that both delivers and takes life.” Rabbit smudged the blood he had drawn and caressed it into my pale skin.

  His breathing hitched as he watched my skin stain red. “It is the covenant one makes with the devil himself.” He lifted his head, eyes locked on mine. “A covenant you are making with me.” Rabbit’s thimble climbed north. The sharp tip balanced on a precipice, forcing me to trust him.

  I did. I would always trust my Rabbit.

  “The devil will lie.” He kissed my inner thigh. “He will cheat.” He edged closer to my core, his mouth moving up and sideways until his cheek brushed the spot between my legs that made me fall apart. “And he will trick.” He moved ever closer, and I shifted on the bed, needing him to take me. Needing him to relieve me of the pressure building at his touch. His eyes softened. “And he will kill, and travel miles to get to the one who holds his fucked-up black heart in her palm.”

  “Rabbit . . .” I whispered as tears filled my eyes.

  “He’d kill anyone who hurt her, just to make her his. He would punish anyone who got in his way.” His eyes flared with something so dark it seemed to blot out the dim light of the lamp. “He will awaken, through blood, what lies dormant in her soul. The darkness that had lurked hidden for years, sleepily waiting for the time to strike. To be born.” I yelped as he pierced the skin on my upper thigh. I looked down and saw blood between my legs.

  Rabbit flicked out his tongue. In one long swipe, he licked my core from the bottom to the top.

  “Rabbit!” I screamed as his touch sent a wave of pleasure soaring through my bones.

  My eyes closed, only for Rabbit to command, “Open!” My eyes snapped open. He licked his lips. “Watch. Watch me as I drink from you. As you split apart from my touch, with your blood staining my mouth.”

  I remained silent, need and incessant want stealing my voice. Rabbit’s eyes darkened. “Answer me, little Dolly. Answer the devil who is taking your freedom with the pact of blood.”

  “Yes, Rabbit.” My skin burned, waiting for him to bring me to the light that only my Rabbit could show me.

  With a savage growl, his head plunged between my legs and he licked me. He licked and licked, taking my blood into his mouth, down his throat. And I screamed. I screamed and cried out as he took from me.

  I gripped his hair as tightly as I could. I moaned as his tongue moved faster, as he took and took from me. My skin flushed—the blood under my skin rushing faster than the blood that escaped through the pinholes and slices Rabbit had made.

  “Take it . . .” I felt my cheeks blaze with heat, as the shivers that brought the pleasure zipped around every inch of my skin. “Take it,” I ordered. Rabbit snarled, his mouth against my core, tongue sliding more and more deeply into me. With every slash of his sharp thimble, my pleasure built and built like a storm on a scorching day, ready to thrash the skies and bring the relief of thunder, lightning and rain.

  Rabbit moved his thimble to the bud that broke me apart. He pushed the tip so slightly that it barely touched me, but it was enough to splinter my body in two. A scream ripped from my heart as I yanked on his hair and my eyes squeezed shut. Rabbit sucked and pulled at the new piercing, and I shook my head as the pleasure surged through me. It came and came like a rainstorm sweeping through dry lands. He licked and licked until I could take no more.

  I pushed his head away. I fought for breath as my back hit the mattress and sweat dripped between my breasts. The beads of sweat mixed with a drop of blood and fell down my stomach. Rabbit lurched forward, as if in attack, and his mouth landed over the pink drop. I stilled, gasping as his eyes met mine and he swallowed.

  And we didn’t move. We stayed that way, frozen. Rabbit’s breathing was uneven as he stared at me, full from feasting on my blood.

  I’d left my life in his hands.

  Gave over to him the power of life or death.

  He exhaled a long breath. “You gave me your blood.” He blinked, as if he couldn’t believe I had let him have me that way. My hand was shaking as I ran it down his face. My fingertip stroked across his spade tattoo, drawing a groan from Rabbit’s mouth.

  He waited, breath held, for me to speak. When I did, I said, “Now it’s my turn.” Rabbit’s lips parted, and his eyes widened then hooded as my words sank in. A low rumble sounded in his chest, and he crawled up my body. His eyes never broke from mine. My heart slammed in my chest. Rabbit’s face met mine, his lips, cheeks and chin covered in crimson. His teeth were coated with blood.

  Rabbit’s head tipped from side to side as he studied my face. I lifted my fingers to his chest and walked them along his raw tattoo. “Sick Fux,” I whispered, reading the words aloud. Words I could read. Words I had drawn in pink on the Cheshire Cat’s head.

  Words now forever etched into Rabbit’s flesh.

  My fingers kept trekking north until they stopped on the beating pulse in his throat. My fingertip tapped on his pulse, in time with its beat. Rabbit’s eyes darkened. “What you gonna do, little Dolly?”

  Naughty Rabbit was taunting me, and my core throbbed at his tone. Narrowing my eyes, I reached out beside me to the side table. Without looking, my hand found the familiar ivory handle. Rabbit’s nostrils flared as I brought my blade to hover in the small space between us. I placed the tip over his heart. A grin pulled on my lips as I listened to its beat and sang, “Tick tock . . . tick tock . . . tick tock . . .”

  Rabbit’s eyes rolled back. Then I was moving the blade upwards. I scraped his skin, the tip dragging cold steel over the raw flesh of his new tattoo. Rabbit’s eyes snapped open and told me without words that he wanted the pain.

  My Rabbit loved the pain.

  My blade stopped where my finger still hovered over his pulse. Rabbit’s lip curled as he waited. When I ever-so-gently dug the tip of the knife into his skin, right into his clock tattoo, I watched as his blood pumped to the surface and trickled down his neck. I was mesmerized as it tiptoed over ink until it could hold on to Rabbit’s skin no longer and dropped on to my breast. His shaft grew harder against my thigh. Knowing he was watching, I scooped up the drop on my finger and brought it to my mouth.

  “Mmm,” I murmured. Rabbit’s cheeks were flushed, and his breathing was out of control. His hips began to thrust his shaft against my thigh in short, slow movements. Using my free hand to push my upper body off the bed, I rose until my face was a mere inch from Rabbit’s.

  “Delicious.”

  Rabbit wrapped his hand around the nape of my neck. Holding my head captive, and with a tight mouth and harsh eyes, he ordered, “Drink . . .” He forced my head to his neck. “Drink from me.”

  Smiling, victorious at getting the response I wanted, I inhaled his scent, then flicked out my tongue and tasted his blood. Rabbit groaned and pushed my mouth closer to his neck. I let him control me, fixing my lips over the cut and sucking.

  I liked it when he controlled me.

  Blood dripped onto my tongue and trickled down my throat. Rabbit’s shaft rubbed against my leg, faster and faster, as I drank and drank. Then I stopped. I fought Rabbit’s grip and tilted my head to the side.

  I knew my Rabit liked it when I tried to resist.

  In a heartbeat, his hot mouth had latched on to the slit on my throat, and he took from me as I took from him. I dropped my hand between us and under the waist of his pants. Without breaking away, I took hold of his shaft, Rabbit snarling at my touch as I pumped his length. I groaned and groaned as we took and took. In seconds, Rabbit snapped his head back and roared out his release. He spilled into my hand, and I stroked him until he pulled back his hips.

  I drew my head back to find Rabbit watching me. Suddenly, he was off the bed and retrieving something from his bag. When he came back, he was holding a vial just like the one around my neck. I gasp
ed and gripped the vial I never took off. The one that held the potion that made me small. The one labeled “Drink Me.”

  Rabbit kneeled on the bed and removed the cork from the vial. Without speaking, he brought the vial to my neck and filled it with my blood. My heart raced and my breasts ached at the thought that he wanted my blood near him at all times.

  He pulled back and met my eyes. I lifted the black ribbon attached to the vial and secured it around his neck. “Rabbit,” I whispered as he reached around my neck to untie the ribbon keeping my vial in place. He uncorked the cork and poured the blue liquid onto the floor. “Rabbit!” I called frantically. I reached out in panic, but Rabbit grabbed my hand and thrust the vial into it.

  “You don’t need that now, little Dolly. My blood is all you’ll ever need.”

  I swallowed and searched his face. “Really?”

  He nodded. “It’ll make you tall if you need it. It’ll make you small if you need it too.” He leaned forward, mouth at my ear. “And it’ll give you strength when you’re weak.”

  My eyes widened. It was better than the blue drink? I snatched the vial to my chest, then pushed the glass to the dripping cut on his neck. Excitement grew inside me as the blood filled up the vial. When it was done, Rabbit took the glass bottle from me, secured the cork and tied the ribbon back around my neck. I reached up and felt the bottle—it was warm.

  Rabbit took my blade from the mattress, and with one quick swipe, he slashed the knife across his palm. He made a fist, and blood dripped to the linen. “Hand,” he said. Immediately, I held out mine. Rabbit stared at me. With an equally quick swipe, he sliced the steel across my palm. I hissed at the sharp, stinging pain.