If she pricked him on his right, his pleasuring hand would instinctively go to the wound, disrupting his gratification. If she did it on the left side, his left hand would go to the wound but he probably wouldn’t stop, therefore making her getaway easier. She turned the needle to an accommodating angle for the left side.
Exclamations were coming from the man being pleasured but Sophie blocked out what he was saying. No she wasn’t looking again. When she came closer she caught a glimpse of her victim’s penis, she was appalled, not knowing any other way to feel about it, as he increased the up and down motion.
The man on the stage breathed heavier and shorter and Sophie focused on the spot on the back of his neck below the ear. The man on stage cried out once, out of the corner of her eye she could see the white on the woman’s face. Sophie was repulsed but the woman continued licking it off. Sophie almost gagged.
The victim cried out at the same moment a hand gripped Sophie’s wrist, her startled cry muffled by a hand over her mouth. She was fighting futilely being pulled swiftly backwards a distance before she heard Oliver’s familiar voice in her ear shushing her, he still pulled her more towards the middle. “It’s me,” his unmistakable voice, his lips brushing her ear.
Shuffling made them both turn, her job hurried out of the theatre. Oliver’s grip eased up. Removing his hand from her mouth, he still grasped her wrist firmly, holding it away from them both, the needle pinched between her fingers. Relief caused her to go limp and then she was angry when she whipped around seeing his self-satisfied smile.
“What do you think you’re doing,” she hissed through clenched teeth, scolding him.
Oliver held her arm between them, looking at the needle, the soft glow from the stage behind her softening his face. “So this is how you did it, to the man on the train, the man in the gallery?” One eyebrow rose in speculation. “Would you put that away?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s harmless.” Maybe in the darkness he couldn’t tell she was lying but having said it, she couldn’t think of a plausible explanation for it other than claiming it is some type of drug which would lead to the question of why she was giving it to a stranger. He had backed her into a corner.
Both eyebrows shot up, he tightened his grip bringing his free wrist towards the tip of the needle. Wanting to call his bluff, she hesitated, watching the needle and when the tip almost met his skin, she grabbed his arm. “No!”
Sophie just glared at him, he held it up in between them and she slid the top over it and he dropped it into her pocket.
“What are you going to do,” knowing she had just confirmed his suspicions once and for all, she was at his mercy now, he made sure of it and she didn’t know what he would do or wanted in return? He had said her secret was safe but he had followed her yet again, she didn’t know where she stood with him.
“Right now I’m going to enjoy the rest of the show,” he took his coat off and tossed it on the seat to the side, looking at her smugly, rolling his sleeves up to the elbow. Sophie was getting used to the sounds coming from behind but what was going on was even more off putting with Oliver near her.
“No, about me?” Without a word, his hands slipped inside her coat, his hands cupping her round shoulders and sliding down her arms until it slid easily off and tossed it on top of his and then his hand circled the top of her arm, slightly brushing the side of her breast with the back of his hand when he did so pulling her around to face the couple again. Immediately she diverted her eyes but was more relaxed that he couldn’t see her embarrassment. For now she had to play his game.
“I told you before; your secret is safe with me.” He didn’t touch her but she was keenly aware of his presence just as much as the action on the stage. “Have you ever watched before? It’s okay for you to watch Sophie, that’s what they are there for,” he whispered in her ear, “to watch.”
“No, why would I,” shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she was terribly uncomfortable with the situation. Oliver could feel her angst but she didn’t resist him, try to push him away, or yell at him. Her curiosity had peaked beyond any inclination to flee and she wasn’t sure if she was ensnared or not, regardless of the fact that’s how she felt, trapped between the outrageous things going on and Oliver’s presence.
“It’s natural to be curious,” he said. She looked down at her hands gripping the chair in front of her. Oliver stood behind her, his hand came up under her chin and raised her head to look up and then swept across her neck to brush the hair back past her shoulder. The reaction her body had from that touch alone made her shiver and he felt it and smiled in the darkness.
“You….,” her chin trembled, not from fear but an excitement that was hard to suppress, “you didn’t save him you know,” Sophie’s eyes moved to the bottom of the stage, not looking directly at them, the man kissed his way down the woman’s body, lingering on her breasts and then lower until his head was buried between her thighs, her head tilted back in pleasure.
“Why are you shy now? I watched you, watching them,” he indicated to the left with his thumb where the couple had sat before. “Besides, it wasn’t my intention to save him.”
“It looked like she was being….,” Sophie was straining for the right word to express what she felt like had happened to the woman, “invaded. Why did you stop me then? You just prolonged the inevitable. What is your intention?”
Oliver noticed the resistance in Sophie; her naiveté towards sex, her awkwardness, the nervous way she shifted her weight, the aversion of her eyes. Oliver put his palm against Sophie back on the left side; he could feel her heart racing, her breathing becoming deep and steady, the breath escaping her mouth, slightly open. “I came to satisfy my curiosity, to see if I was right, you did kill the man on the train and the gallery and now I know how,” he said when the woman gave a small cry that sounded sad to Sophie but it caught her attention also and she looked directly at her.
What she had said finally sunk in, “Invaded? She had an orgasm so invaded or not, she enjoyed it,” Oliver said bluntly.
Sophie didn’t know what the man was doing now; only that his mouth was between the woman’s legs and he was looking at her above her pelvis, his hand pinching her nipple. Sophie’s own nipples peaked out like it was cold, she instinctively hunched pressing against Oliver’s hand that rested on her back and straightened again.
“I don’t kill, the poison does,” Oliver’s hand slid down her back until it dropped and her back was suddenly chilled from the lack of the heat from it. “So you followed me to catch me in the act?” On the stage the woman was reaching her climax, Sophie and Oliver was silent for a moment when her whimpers became cries, the look on her face resonated with Sophie.
“I had to know,” he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That’s how you justify it, then? How you keep your conscience clear?”
“It’s a fact,” she replied with conviction, “as for my conscience, I am independent of it.” Oliver mulled this revelation over. He believed that she believed there was a certain amount of innocent disconnection in what she did, except her reactions were quite different.
“Is it shrouded in empathy for your victims and your guilt?”
“Empathy? I have no empathy, I can’t… Looks like she’s in pain,” Sophie felt concern for her, the woman’s face contorted, her cries getting louder and she was panting, but the man didn’t stop and she didn’t tell him to instead her hand was on his head, keeping him there. Oliver started to chuckle but he could see she was serious.
“This coming from the woman who has no empathy?” Sophie wasn’t going to argue with him over how she felt about what she did for a living. “Have…have you never had an orgasm before?” Oliver asked.
“No,” it came out breathy, “I don’t think so.” Sophie was aware of Oliver but he didn’t move anymore, didn’t distract her from what she was watching, no longer touching her. Warmth radiated from her centre and outward to her fingers, her toes, her face, a
nd she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath.
“You would know. Not even by yourself?” Oliver focused on Sophie and her reactions instead of the act itself as not to be more aroused than he already was. He wanted to press his lips to her exposed neck, put his arms around her waist and feel her back against his chest.
Sophie stiffened, her head whipped around, barely seeing him in her peripheral vision, “I’ve never done that,” she sounded appalled and somewhat offended.
“You’ve never masturbated,” Oliver asked bluntly.
“No. Why would I?”
“Why wouldn’t you? It’s self-gratifying.”
“I don’t know anything about gratification where….that is concerned,” Sophie’s head dropped again, she was remembering and became defensive.
Oliver tried to make light of it, believing he had stumbled upon another secret but he wouldn’t push her at least not in the middle of Carnal.
“It’s healthy. It relieves stress, good for your heart, releases serotonin……,” he was numbering the benefits off one by one.
“So says the doctor,” she interrupted. With that the woman cried out so loud, it was like the force of it threw her head back, her thighs convulsing, her hand pushing down on the man’s head.
Oliver noticed Sophie’s concerned look and the grip she had on the seat in front of her. He put his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs working her shoulder blades, she let him.
“Looks intense.”
“It is,” he stopped moving but his hands slid down to her arms, he was closer now, his chest against her back, “but I can’t tell you what it feels like for a woman, not being one. I can’t describe to you what it feels like for man, since you’re not one but I can describe what a woman’s climax feels like to me when I’m inside her,” he didn’t say it to get a reaction from her, it was simply his way of explaining but she did react.
It was like she was electrified from the inside out and the words knocked the breath out of her. It was like a slow fire surged in her blood and cascaded through her veins. Aroused by the announcement he just made, she was almost equally annoyed by the thought of him having it off with other women….almost. “But there’s only one way for you to know what it truly feels like.” His voice was low, his mouth by her ear. His fingertips slid lightly down her arm, past her elbow to rest on the top of her hands affecting her more than the show put on by the couple.
It just reminded her of the past or was it that deep down what she saw tonight and what Oliver could be or would be as a lover contradicted everything she had experienced. “Are you offering,” she blurted out, she was almost panting now also, but she had no control over it.
“If you like,” he started to kiss her on the side of her neck where he had moved the hair to expose it earlier but intuition made him hesitant, his lips close to her neck and she waited in anticipation, muscles taught waiting to feel more than just his breath on her neck. Her head tilted slightly to allow him access.
When his breath faded and he had not touched his lips to her she said in a low, harsh voice, “I’ll try it by myself.” Oliver retreated; she shook his hands off of her.
Quivering, even after the orgasm subsided, the woman’s body was begging for the man to enter her. “You haven’t told me about what you intend to do. Is my future in jeopardy?” Sophie watched the man stroke himself and Oliver’s chest pressed against her back with every inhale.
The man was well endowed and it was swollen and much redder then the pale flesh of the rest of his body. The blonde, on her knees, anticipated that part of his body inside her. Sophie noticed the woman’s body slightly but constantly moving as if the energy coursed through her and moved of its own accord.
“Not by me. On the contrary, Sophie, I would rather,” he breathed deeply and let it out slowly, his left hand slid down her arm again, this time taking her hand and bringing it to his lips, “be on your good side.”
The man thrust into the woman in one swift movement, he was deep inside her and Sophie jerked slightly, her own reaction in response, accidentally squeezing Oliver’s fingers and dropping his hand immediately. “So that’s it, is it? You don’t tell anyone about me if I have sex with you?” Her body was tingling from the fight or flight response of adrenaline waiting for his answer. Thing is, she really wanted him to answer yes because there would be no question that she had to do it and then the contradiction between her past experiences and what she was currently experiencing wouldn’t need to be so conflicting. She would have to accept what she had to do.
Oliver felt guilty suddenly. An exasperated sigh escaped him. He put his forehead on the back of Sophie’s head, his breath moving her hair. Sophie didn’t move, not knowing what it meant but she knew it was not meant to be erotic. “Is that what you think?” Oliver turned her to face him, his jaw was set, the soft glow from the stage illuminating his face. “You are not in any danger from me. I knew what you did, I knew all along. Why would I want to send you away when what I want is…..anything but?”
“That makes you an accomplice, Oliver.”
“Because, I want to know the things about you I can’t figure out on my own. I don’t judge you for what you do for a living. You and I, we…deal with death all the time. The only difference is,” he wanted to tell her the gap between them was not so wide, “you feel remorse.”
Her head jerked at the statement, “How would you know,” she whispered.
“Your reaction in the gallery, when you heard the girl cry for her father. It’s why we’re in the dark now. It’s why you avoid looking at them altogether isn’t it? Why you use a poison, not just giving you time to escape but so you’re not around to watch them die.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The poison chose me.” A striking sound was coming from behind her as the man’s hips thrust to the woman’s backside, over and over.
“You say that when you know I’m right and you don’t want to agree and you know you can’t lie to me,” his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up so that her eyes met his, “I see you Sophie.” Little sounds were coming from the woman with every thrust, she was getting loud but Oliver was not distracted, completely focused on Sophie.
Not sure what exactly that meant, she was becoming angry again, “I think I’m done here.” Pushing his hand away and grabbing her coat she walked to the door. Oliver was thankful the coat slung over his arm hid his own erection. A couple of turns and she was lost but Oliver breezed past her taking her hand and leading her out hurriedly.
The Goth girl that greeted them at the entrance winked at Sophie, “If ever you want another go, just ring me.” Sophie and Oliver were both confused but not in the mood to question her, not taking her seriously anyway.
The cool air hit them both when they rushed out the door. Oliver was going to offer to assist Sophie with her coat but she already had it on. She was still angry maybe resentful. He left his off, looking up and down the street for a taxi with none in sight yet.
Sophie turned on him to give him a piece of her mind but he breathed heavy, like he had run and agitated by the lack of cabs in this part of town. “This way,” he said urgently, grabbing her hand but she jerked it away and that was the first time he looked at her since they walked out.
“What do you think you’re doing,” she said it low, through clenched teeth, “do you know he might recognize me now, I have to start over because you had to appease your curiosity.”
“I’m sorry, it was too dark for him to make you out anyway, unless he saw you coming in,” he started walking, she trotted behind him.
“Of course he didn’t. If you didn’t want to save him why did you stop me? Why not just let me do it and leave or make yourself known later or not at all for that matter,” they stopped on the corner.
“Don’t be angry with me,” he looked down into her flushed face and stroked it. Her response was surprising, the half open eyes, her lips parted slightly, she was still turned on. “He was almost done or didn’t you notice?”
Her brows came together in confusion, “Of course I noticed.”
“You could have at least waited, let him have his dignity, Sophie,” he sounded disappointed.
“It wouldn’t have kicked in that quick,” she blurted out, wishing she had just kept her mouth shut. He knew but she didn’t need to elaborate any further.
Oliver changed the subject, caring more about the state she was in, “Do you still feel it?” He was looking at her funny, something like hunger but not in the way Declan did, it was less frenzied. His eyes darted from hers, to her mouth, her trembling chin, his thumb across her lip.
“Feel what? I feel nothing for him,” she was confused again.
“No I mean after what you saw,” one step and he was looking down at her, his eyes wide, the tilted smile sexy on his face, “You don’t need to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, it’s all natural reactions. Your nerves on fire, your muscles tense with anticipation,” he was very animated in his description, and she was checking off, internally agreeing to what he was saying, “shortness of breath,” his lips were a few inches from hers, head tilted; he wouldn’t kiss her unless she moved forward, “the pulsing between…”
“Got any spare change,” the hoarse voice greeted them, interrupting the moment. A homeless man, with tatty clothing and bearded approached them. He was so filthy; there was no way to see his features fully in the lamplight.
“They must find you Sophie,” Oliver huffed slightly agitated and dug into his pockets precariously. Sophie nervously watched the muscles work in his jaw, how she wanted him to kiss her, “Where are we going?”
“Are you hungry,” he asked, handing the man a pound and disregarding him.
“Maybe,” she said through clenched teeth, the man cleared his throat and Sophie blushed but continued on her rampage, going deep into her coat pocket and producing her wallet.
“For food?” Oliver asked, smiling at her, finally waving down a cab.
Sophie got his meaning, she was not amused. Opening her wallet and pouring the change out into her hand, “Is that why you forced me to watch, so I would want to,” she handed the man the whole lot and still went back into her wallet for more as he lingered.
The Poison Morality Page 14