by K. J. Dahlen
“Goodnight, Alassandra.” His voice is velvety soft when he says her name, and I won’t be fucking surprised if she has her legs spread, begging for him. His voice just has that effect.
The girl says something back that I can’t hear before he closes the door and turns around and sees me. Shock shows first and then something else. That same thing I saw before.
“Who let you out?” He completely ignores my presence as he takes a drink from the glass in his hand. There is no hi, hello, how the fuck are you. He doesn’t even point a gun at me. To be honest, I am kind of pissed. I so badly want to throw in his face what Mack did to me, but I don’t think it will matter to him. He won’t care. After all, I am nothing to him but a debt.
“I’m not a fucking dog.” I try my hardest to sound mean. I want to lash out at him with words because let’s face it, I won’t ever be able to hurt him physically. Mentally, though…I can do that. I can break him down, cut him, turn him inside out, just like he does to me.
“I didn’t refer to you as a dog, now did I?” His smirk says asshole, but his body says I can have you if I want you. I hate it. I love it. I really want to shoot him.
“Where were you?” I ask, changing the subject. I know it sounds like a typical housewife to be asking where he was, and since we aren’t anything, I have no real reason to know. Except I want to know.
He smiles, and his eyebrow raises. I am afraid he won’t tell me since there are numerous things I know he has to be keeping from me.
“Jealously doesn’t really suit you… “
“You don’t know what suits me,” I point out, pursing my lips
He covers the distance between us. I am still lying in his bed, surrounded by his scent. I am drowning in a sea of Alzerro King.
I smell the bourbon from his drink as he swirls the brown liquid in his glass. The motion mesmerizes me, putting me in a trance. The liquid sloshes over the side, and eventually he brings the glass to his lips, drinking from it. His lips lick at his drink as if he wants to get every last drop.
“I know this much, sweetheart…” He is on me, surrounding me. The monster has captured his prey. His eyes skim over my lips and up my face before landing on mine again. “Jealously is something that you’re feeling. I know because I see it in your eyes. It’s cute, in a way. There’s something you must know about me, though, I don’t care if something bothers you.” He is whispering, hypnotizing me. I can’t tear my eyes away from his.
“I’m the king. I do. Whatever. The. Fuck. I. Want.” Every word forces his hot breath onto my face. I want to bite him just to see what he tastes like. As fucked up as all this is, I want him. I want him even when he is telling me he doesn’t give a fuck about what I think.
“No. You’re a prick. A self-righteous-I’ll-shoot-you-at-point-blank-range prick.” The air shifts around us and my skin feels as if it is on fire.
Zerro stares at me with an expression that shows he is very much annoyed with my talking.
I open my mouth to say something, but no words ever come. The air hangs between us, and I look down to his hand around my throat, clasping it. He pushes me to the back of the headboard, and I can feel the oxygen deprivation.
“I’m not scared of you,” I inform him with everything inside me. Even if I am going to die, I will do it in a fashion that is me. He will know I died unafraid of him, and to me, that is the most important thing.
A war rages within him as his muscles constrict. He can’t decide if he wants to strangle me or not… He unclasps his hand, and I swallow a breath of air just in time. His hand clenches again, and I swear I feel the bones in my neck snapping.
Or maybe it is all a dream. I know the moment he makes his decision because a tenderness shows in his eyes.
“You should be…” he mumbles against my throat as he kisses the bruises that I am sure are there. There is a tenderness in the way he caresses me. It is as if he is trying to scrub away the bad, as if he wants to take the hurt away. He is conflicted and fucked up. I can’t even begin to fully describe him.
“I’m not. To be scared would be to show weakness, and I know better than to show weakness in front of some self-righteous asshole.” My words are laced with so much hate. I feel as if I am trying to make myself like him less, as if saying the words out loud will make him less appealing to my body, and to my heart.
“Being scared doesn’t make you weak…” His eyes glaze over, hazy with a memory, I’m sure. He had to have had a fucked up childhood to have turned into the beautifully damaged man he is. He never speaks of his mother or father. He never says he had any siblings, and although he doesn’t ask me about my life, he knows a lot more about me than I know about him.
“In the eyes of a monster like you, it does.” His lips lick over one of my bruises and trails up to my ear. The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I feel a surge of adrenaline go through me. His teeth nibble at my lobe, and I feel myself growing weak against him. My defenses are nothing when it comes to the things he can do with his mouth.
Hot breath can be felt against my ear, but my body is long gone when it comes to talking. I want him. Despite how mean and ugly he is on the inside, my body craves him.
“You forget that every fallen angel was once an angel themselves. Monsters don’t really want to be monsters. We’re just like everyone else, waiting for someone to come save us from our very own damned darkness.”
I pull away from him, frazzled and warm with need. Confusion is evident on my face as he looks at me smiling. Maybe that’s how he’s wanted me this whole time—confused, broken, and lost with no purpose here. If I don’t know anything, then I can never leave.
“Why did you tell me that?” Does he really want someone to save him? Does he even need someone to save him? Can he be saved? Can someone so dark and hateful come back from that? My mind goes straight to the moment I watched him shoot those people in their heads. The light in him had diminished and left in its place is a gaping hole of nothing.
“Come with me,” he growls, his eyes hungry. I don’t want to go anywhere with him. My mind and body aren’t on the same course, though because I find myself standing and placing my hand in his. He leads me from the bedroom, down the stairs and into the basement.
As we descend the stairs, my mind and body clam up. Should I tell him about Mack? It still occurs to me that Zerro might not believe me. That he might even accuse me of wanting and encouraging Mack’s attention.
He doesn’t catch my hesitation or just doesn’t care because he continues to pull me down the stairs. The cobblestone floors are cold underneath my feet.
He pulls a set of keys from his pocket as we pass the door that leads to the dungeon that had been my home for more than a few days.
The door before us is wooden, wide and large. I wonder what is behind it, but at the same time I don’t. Zerro has secrets. Who knows what, or who, he has buried down here.
Opening the door, he smiles at me. It isn’t a warm and friendly one, but more along of the lines of one that says I will eat you alive and laugh while doing it.
I enter the room slowly, afraid something will jump out at any point and time. He moves behind me ever so slowly, like a snake ready to strike. The room is simple, except there are drawers that line one of the wooden walls.
What they contain, I have no idea. I am sure I am about to find out, though.
“Go stand at the end of that wall…” He points to the far wall, the one that seems as if it is a million miles away, the one furthest from the door. How can I escape if I am so far away?
Dread eats at my insides. Is this the end? Is he going to kill me? I try my best not to show weakness, but I know as much as he did, he will kill me whenever he sees fit.
With my head held high, I walk the distance as if I am walking to my own funeral. Turning around to face him, I stand against the wall with my back straight. If I am going to die, I will be dying in a way that says I have stood tall and proud when I was given no other choice.
A silence passes, and I am certain that this will be the end. I watch as he pulls a drawer open, his eyes growing wide with happiness as he handles whatever it is that is in his hands.
I want to run, to escape, with all my might. I want to run away from this man as much as I want to run to him.
I look up through the shitty lighting to see a knife sitting on the palm of his hand. He grabs the end of it as if he has experience using it. He probably does…
“If you’re going to kill me, just do it.” The words rush from my lips without intention to do so. He peeks up at me again, pushing away a couple pieces of his dark hair that have landed on his forehead.
“I’m not going to kill you. Yet. Instead, I’m going to do something far worse…” He examines the knife as if he isn’t certain that it will do its job. If he isn’t going to kill me, what is he going to do?
My mind is reeling, and then in a blink of an eye, I watch him throw the knife. His body is full of pent-up aggression, and it’s like watching a train wreck happen. He is going to kill me. I know it.
7
Alzerro
The knife lands with precision right where I expect it to— just shy of cutting her ear off. A breath of an inch closer and she would have been one ear short of two.
Her eyes are as wide as saucers. Fear is rooted deeply in them, and I know she thinks I am going to kill her. She thinks that one of these many knives is meant for her.
She is wrong. None of the knives are meant for her—they are meant for me.
“Whatever fucking crazy ass rollercoaster you’re on, I want off.” She sounds tiny, and her body trembles with fear. I laugh in the face of it. Nothing scares me. I have lost everyone who was important to me. Being scared means you have something to lose. I have nothing.
“Sorry, no refunds, baby,” I taunt, grabbing another knife from the drawer. I can go all night. There are knives upon knives that can be thrown, but I have other ideas as to what I can do with them.
“Then kill me. Do it. Because this game, or whatever it is that you’re playing, is fucking with my head. You’re fucking with my head. Forget the debt, just do what you planned to do all along.” She sounds like she may be pleading or begging, but she doesn’t sound defeated. My dick grows harder with every word that passes from those full lips of hers.
Her face is flushed with fear, and I know if I remove her clothing, I will find other parts of her body flushed as well. She’s beautiful even as she trembles.
“What I plan to do to you doesn’t pertain to actual death, although after I bring you to the edge over and over again, I’m sure you will will wish I had just killed you.”
Her face shows understanding as her lips part. Is she ready for me already? Does this type of thing bring her pleasure? Maybe she is darker than I thought.
“I won’t let you…” She is trying to sound strong, but I know, as does she, that if I feel between her legs, I will find her pussy soaked with need.
“You will.” I am not full of myself, I just know when someone is lying and when they are hiding what they truly want.
She wants me. I just have to make her admit it to herself. You want her too… My mind is playing tricks on me. I wouldn’t ever say that, feel that.
Her hair is plastered to her face, and her small legs are shaking. I slide my eyes up her legs so very slowly, taking in the slope of her thighs, imagining the way they will feel squeezing me as I enter her.
If she feels anything close to the way she felt when I entered her with my fingers, I am going to be in heaven. There is nothing more glorious or satisfying than entering tight, virgin pussy. My dick is rising in approval. Her pussy is mine, only mine.
I cross the distance between us, my body moving effortlessly. I still hold a knife firmly in my hand as I watch her eyes skirt to it. Fear still shows, but something else does too. Excitement? My blood stirs.
I stand directly in front of her. The edge of the knife is sharp, but I know just how to move it so that it won’t hurt her beautiful skin. If she thinks she is going to die, she is wrong. I will bring her to the edge over and over again. By the end of the night, she will wish she had been dead.
“What are you doing with that?” Our eyes meet. I smile, my eyes narrowing as I pull the knife up to her lips. A gasp leaves her mouth as she begs me with her eyes. What is it that she wants?
Pushing the knife against her full, red bottom lip, I wait for her to say something, to beg me to take her. Instead, she just stands there, maybe out of defiance or even fear. I don’t know. I just know it makes me want her more. I grip the edge tighter as I slide the tip over her skin. A small red line marks her skin as I slide it lower, down her neck and over her beating heart.
“Are you scared?” I whisper to her. Her breaths are hot against my skin. I am on the verge of taking her without following through with what I want to do.
She sucks her lip into her mouth, shaking her head no. I smile slyly, gliding the tip from her chest back up to her collarbone. The red scratch that shows on her skin is nothing compared to what I can do to her body.
Her flimsy nightshirt is no match for me. I pull it from her body, taking the knife and cutting it straight down the middle.
“Oh, God…” she murmurs softly as we both watch the material fall to the ground. She stands before me in a pair of simple white panties and a black bra but against her skin, it looks more than magnificent. Taking the knife, I move it under the strap of her bra.
“My name’s Alzerro. Please use it...” I say roughly, just on the verge of falling off the edge. I haven’t even taken her panties off yet, and I am ready to explode.
“Zerro…” she pants, her eyes wanting to meet mine. Her hands reach out, tracing across my shoulders. Her touch is soft, and my body wants it, wants her.
I slide her bra strap down and trace across her chest to release the other one. Bringing the knife back between her breasts, I push it straight down the middle, cutting the material from her body. It falls to the ground as her perfectly perky tits are unleashed.
Her skin is milky white, and her nipples are a dusky pink. I want to lick and bite at them, but I place a kiss against each one instead. Her lips part as I stare at her, my tongue slipping out of my mouth and circling her nipple. She tastes sweet, like cherries and vanilla. Her unique scent surrounds me, pushing all thoughts to the back of my mind. Making her come is front and center.
I kneel down before her, scraping the knife across her skin. By the time I get to her panties, I am panting with need.
I slide the knife across her hips, watching as her panties fall to the ground. Nothing is separating us anymore. She is spread out for me. Mine.
Her pussy is freshly shaven, and it begs to me. Her pulse jumps as I separate her lips, my finger sliding through the slick wetness. Her need for me can be seen and smelled from miles away.
“You want me?” I growl. It isn’t really meant to be a question, but more like I’m letting her know that I know. She says nothing, other than allowing a gasp to leave her lips. I push her legs apart.
Gripping her behind one leg, I place it over my shoulder. I want to feast on that slick pussy.
“Please,” she greets me with a begging plea as she lifts her other leg to place it over my shoulder to allow me to grip her ass and bring her pussy to my face. The knife falls to the floor. She smells delightful, and I can’t decide what I want to do more—fuck her or eat her out. I nuzzle her, and I feel her legs grip my face tighter. I smile like the prick I am.
My tongue darts out, circling around her clit. “Fuck…” she cries out. Her fingers grab at my hair. Fuck is right… Nothing in this world can pull me away from her.
Leaning forward, I lick her from back to front, over and over again until her legs are shaking. Her hips move feverishly, and I can tell from the purrs she is maki
ng that she is right there.
I enter her slowly with one finger, testing just how close she is. Her muscles clench around my thick digit as I suck her clit into my mouth. Who knew such a small, little thing could bring such great pleasure?
“Yes… Yes… Fuck yes…” She barely gets out as her pussy grinds against my face. I don’t mind, though. I am smiling, sucking and nipping at every piece of her.
She tastes just as she smells and I pull her off my face, making sure that I hold her body up as I remove my own clothes. From the faraway look in her eyes, I know I’m working her over so well.
“I’m going to fuck that tight pussy now, Piccolo.” A sigh leaves her mouth as I lift her up by the ass. I stare into her hooded eyes. Parting her thighs, I position myself at her entrance. My cock is stiff with need. Dipping a finger inside of her, I take the wetness from within and rub it onto my cock.
I stroke myself hard, a hiss leaving my mouth as I press into her folds. “This is what you do to me. You make me a crazed monster…” I murmur against her flesh. My teeth bite down on her shoulder as I push into her ever so slowly. She is tighter than anything I have ever felt.
A cry escapes her lips as I release my hold on her shoulder and look into her eyes. Being a virgin, I know she is overwhelmed with emotion and pleasurable pain, so I sit still for a moment before pushing into her all the way. No words need to be said. I plan on spelling everything out plainly and simply. My strokes and bites will be my words.
“Your pussy is mine…” I croon as I wait for her to adjust to my presence inside her. It is all mine for the taking. I am going to pound her so hard…
“More…” she implores, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as I pull out and slam back into her. Her ass slips from my hands, making me tighten my grip. My muscles clench, and I am going to tear her apart if I don’t slow down.
“You get what I give.” I don’t sound like myself as I pull out and push back into her. My cock is swelling. I feel my balls squeezing, wanting to release even though we have hardly begun.