The stink of BO grows heady as we climb the stairs, so strong that it coats the back of my throat.One of the bedrooms upstairs is a wasteland of discarded frozen meals, soda cans, and a stained, sunken bed.
And there he is.
He’s exactly as I pictured: bloated face, greasy, thinning hair, and patchy tattoos that look like they were done by a toddler.He fell asleep on his stomach to a morning talk show that’s on mute in the corner.
James scrapes the blade of his knife along the bottom of Devlin’s bare foot.
He jerks upright and blinks in confusion, then narrows his piggish eyes into furious slits when his gaze finds me first.
“Thefuck?“ he snarls, struggling to his feet.A leer twists his mouth.“Who the hell are you, sweetheart?Lost?Looking for a good time?”
His eyes drop to my chest and linger.
James moves into Devlin’s periphery, crossing the filthy carpet in two strides.His fist, knuckles like stones, connects with the man’s jaw.
The sound is a wet, meaty crack, and for some reason, it reminds me of stepping on a rotten melon.Devlin’s head snaps back.A spray of blood and saliva arcs through the air.
He collapses back onto the bed like a puppet with its strings cut, then falls and slumps sideways onto the floor.He lands heavily, making a gurgling, choking sound.His jaw hangs at a grotesque angle, already broken from just one punch.
And we’re just getting started.
I step farther into the room and stand over him.He looks up, eyes wide now, full of animal terror and incomprehension.Blood bubbles at his ruined mouth.He tries to speak, but only gurgles come out.
“You put her in the hospital.”My voice is flat and dead calm, the voice of judgment reading the sentence.
He tries to scramble back, crab-like, but his coordination is gone.
“We’re here to make sure you don’t do that anymore,” I say.
He shakes his head wildly, a frantic, pleading motion as he scrabbles weakly at the filthy carpet.He understands now.He understands exactly what this is.
I nod to James.
James grabs the man’s flailing left arm and pins it down under his knee.The man shrieks, a high-pitched, muffled sound through his broken jaw.
James raises his knife, and it glints dully in the light from the TV.He brings it down in a brutal, precise arc onto the elbow joint.
The crunch is louder than his jaw breaking.Bone gives way.Tendon and muscle shred.The man convulses, a full-body spasm, his scream muffled into a wet choke.
James moves on and eyes Devlin’s kneecap next.A heavy stomp from his boot, delivered with shocking power.Another sickening crack.The man arches off the floor, eyes rolling back, then collapses, whimpering, trembling uncontrollably.
“I’ll keep your skull,” James tells him.“Ye ken what I like to do to skulls, ol’ Devy?I fuck ’em in their eye sockets until the orbital bones crack and crumble.Sometimes while the eyes are still in it.One thrust is usually all it takes.Do ye ken what it’s like to fuck something so hard that it breaks bone?Do you ken the feeling of sharp slivers of bone scraping along your cock until ye bleed?”
Goddamn.I heave out a breath, loud enough for James to take notice.
“Did that catch your fancy, Prayer?”he asks with a sly smile.
“Uh-huh,” I say breathlessly and grind my thighs together.“Will you show me sometime?”
His eyes heat as he takes me in from my flushed cheeks to my heaving chest to my hips seeking friction in the empty air.“Did I just unlock a new kink in ye?”
I grin.“I believe so.”
“Aye, I’m gonna need to speed this along, then.”James keeps going in a faster, brutal rhythm with Devlin.
Blood sprays, arcs, pools thick and dark on the grimy carpet.The coppery scent fills the room, overwhelming the stench of BO.
I stand there and watch, detached but fascinated, taking mental notes while my body lights up with need.The satisfaction is a physical thing, spreading through my veins with throbbing heat that centers in my pussy.
