I brushed past her and flipped myself onto the bed, my hands tucked behind my neck and my legs spread wide. “Either way, you don’t fuck someone you don’t enjoy fucking. You like my dick, don’t ya,myshka?” I clenched my ass and bounced my hips against the mattress. Thrusting into the air twice more before adding, “Ain’t that why you’re here. The thrill got ya all spun up and now you need a way to burn off that extra energy.”
“I’m here to kill you.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “Already tried that. Think we should try something else now.”
She moved to step back from the bed, and I kicked out a leg, catching her behind the knee and sending her tumbling on top of me. She immediately reached for the nightstand, grabbed thelamp, and cracked it over my head. I felt the blood trickle down my cheek, but that was all I felt besides the throbbing in my dick as I wrapped my hand in her hair and yanked her face closer. Her lips tasted like pennies. And whatever power bar she was chewing on the way over. And salt from the sweat dripping down her forehead onto mine. And lust. And hatred. And more lust.
And I tasted like all those things now too.
That was the part I enjoyed most about fucking. It was the closest you could get to killing someone without killing them. Tasting them without consuming them. It was like destroying them over and over again. A little piece at a time. Causing that same desperation and inevitability. The same heart thrumming and blown pupils. The same nail digging and hair pulling.
It was the same objective of getting them before they got you.
And I got her. Naked beneath me. Our clothes tossed every which way in the struggle. My shirt, her pants and underwear. Then my pants too. Furniture knocked over and blood spelling out each step we took to get to this moment. Like a morbid map. Here’s where I twisted her arm behind her back and forced her up against the wall. And there’s where she elbowed me in the mouth. And that’s where I laughed and spit out a chipped tooth before scooping her up and dropping her onto the bed again.
She grabbed something off another shelf and chucked it at my face. I dodged it and gripped up her left thigh, pressing it down into the mattress with the weight of a knee. One ankle tug later, I was watching how my cock parted her pussy lips like the Red Sea. She arched her back and met me wave for wave. All that fight finally fucked out of her or into her as she twisted the sheets between her knuckles and dropped another location pin.
Here’s where she creamed all over my cock.
I felt that gush of fluid and continued to fuck her through it. Those tight pussy walls sucking me up and spitting me back out. Rolling and vibrating. Bucking and flexing. My new cock ringswimming around her bodily fluids and splattering them against her thighs each time it flicked against her lady lips. I liked the look of it. The feel of pushing something inside someone, pulling it out, then pushing it in a little deeper the next time and twisting. The resistance and the pressure. The sloshing sound and the groans.
I picked up my pace till the blood dripping off my chin mixed with the cum dripping down her thighs. Till the only difference between her and the guy she’d left to rot next to a pile of cockroaches was the option for a redo. After I closed my eyes for a little bit.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
BELLATRIX
Gabby leaned against the door as I dropped my jacket onto the floor and slowly peeled my shirt off. One sleeve then the other, careful when I went to tug the whole thing over my head. I tossed the sweat-drenched V-neck aside with the rest of the dirty clothes piled around my room. Not bothering to look for anything remotely clean to change into. I really needed a shower but that would have to wait until I was feeling a little more lucid.
Yup, a quick equipment check and I was going straight to bed.I ran a hand along the back of my left arm and huffed. “Fucker knocked my pump loose.”
“The guy from last night?” Gabby asked, already walking into the attached bathroom to grab the meter, a few lancets, and my spare pen from my go bag.
I forgot she was there for a moment, getting to that point in my haze where things wavered between real and distorted. I didn’t usually let myself get this bad before stopping somewhere to take a nap. But there was no going to sleep with my sugar left unchecked, unless I wanted that sleep to be the permanent kind.
“Uh, yeah, the guy from last night.” I didn’t look her in the eye, pretending I was too focused on my glucose level, which wasn’t what it should be.Motherfucker.
“Surprised you let him get that close.”
“Me too. His wallet’s in the front pocket.” I pointed to my jacket, then pinched the meat of my stomach with two fingers as I pushed down on the injection button. Gabby cringed. I didn’t even feel the sting anymore. She was fine with jabbing other people but always made a face when I jabbed myself.
She waited until I was done to bend over and fish out the wallet. Then she stood to her full height, crossed her arms, and pinned me with a glare. “You’re gonna get yourself sick. The alcohol pads are right there.” She aimed a manicured nail at the stockpile of supplies on my left.
I shrugged and tossed the used needle into the trash can by my bed. Gabby mumbled under her breath as she bent over again, retrieved the needle, and deposited into the red sharps bin.
“Thanks, Mom.” I grinned, and she rolled her eyes.
Sometimes I did this shit just to piss her off. Or maybe it was to prove to her that she cared more than she’d ever admit. Maybe to prove it to myself too. But I wasn’t a psychologist. Just a hired hand.
“You were out later than usual,” she hummed, ignoring the bait as she propped herself against my dresser.
We used to share a room but that ended right around the time Gabby took an interest in shoes, and I took an interest in guns. One closet wasn’t exactly enough for shared hobbies. So Vee sold the original building and rented out this place. A combination of offices and apartments. In the worst part of the city, where she said we were needed the most. A half-truth. We were needed here but that wasn’t why she did it. She did it so each of us girls had our own space.
“Crashed out somewhere,” I told Gabby. It was my go-to explanation for everything, and most of the time, it wasn’t a lie.
“Where?”
Another shrug. “Apartment above a bar. Passed it on the walk home.” Like I said, the best lies were partial truths. It was one of the first lessons Vee taught us. Which meant Gabby wasn’t buying it any more than I would if it were her.
