That Sik Luv

Aero

Toying with my little doll is my new favorite obsession. These games we play? They’re only the beginning.

She takes off as I begin my countdown, and I sense the wheels turning in her head. She doesn’t realize that I know just how clever she is. I’m not like these demons around her, stunting her growth, assuming she’s incapable, working to destroy the power she possesses. I know just how capable she is, and whenever she proves that in her fight, it only increases my obsession.

“One,” I finally call out, standing from the bed.

I turn out of the room, just in time to see the two doors of the remaining bedrooms upstairs close, one just before the other. How she did that, I don’t know. She’s smart enough to not run out the front door, knowing I’d easily catch her. I told her if she got out, she’d be free of me. But even if she makes it out, she won’t be.

Briony has yet to learn that I’ll never let her go. And in time, she’ll never want me to.

I stand between the two rooms listening intently, when I remember that only one of these two rooms has a sliver of roof beneath it, allowing her to escape the window. Opening the door to that room, I walk into the darkness, letting it swallow me. The light of the moon barely shines through the closed window. If she’s in here, she’s hiding well. A creak in the floorboards sends my eyes to the closet and I bite down on my bottom lip, the smile growing with each step closer to it.

“Come out and play, little doll,” I whisper, before reaching into the closet, swinging my forearms in the space.

Clothes. Nothing but hanging clothes. My brows knit together when I hear the paddling of bare feet run past the door.

That inquisitive bitch was in the other room!

She knew I knew the layout enough to choose this one first. I laugh to myself, enjoying the fact that she was a step ahead of me. Her mind continuously amazes me.

I turn, running out of the room, pulling myself around by the door frame as I see her black hair flying down the stairs. I grip the banister, swinging myself over it, and jump down a few of the stairs. Gripping the edge of a large painting from the wall with one hand, it falls as she pulls it, shattering into a mess on the remaining stairs between us. I hurdle the frame with my legs, closing in on her. She’s sprinting for her life, trying to get to that door, but I’m faster.

I dive, grabbing her calf, and she trips, falling hard onto her abdomen as the air in her lungs leaves her. Eyeing her round ass that bounces as she falls, I get to my knees, crawling up her body. She flips, bringing a knee to her chest and kicks me square in the jaw, sending my head sideways. A piece of my tooth chips off as my lip splits, the blood pooling in my mouth almost immediately.

She stares at me above her with terror and shock in her eyes, disbelieving of her own strength. I run my thumb along my bottom lip, seeing the blood.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” A smile stretches across my face and I feel the blood rush to my cock.

She scurries out from under me, running towards the kitchen. I scramble after her; the blood dripping down my shirt. Opening the sliding glass door of the kitchen, I smile to myself, knowing there’s a pole jammed in the run of it. It opens only half a foot before hitting the pole, making it impossible for her to slip through it. She quickly turns, her hands gripping the counter behind her, stabilizing her terror-filled form.

Her black hair hangs partially in front of her face, her breasts sway and her pink nipples are visible in the increased light around us. I shudder, imagining myself biting down on them until they bleed onto my tongue.

Only the kitchen island stands between us now. She looks down, realizing it too. Flipping the blade up with a flick of her wrist like a seasoned pro, my cock jumps in excitement.

My tongue slips out between my lips, and I lick the blood, tasting the familiar tinge of metal. I stalk towards her, standing on the opposite side of the island, dropping my palms on the granite as I lean forward, blood dripping from my chin.

“What’s your move, doll?” I ask, sneering at her.

Reaching behind her with her free hand, she grabs a vase of flowers and chucks it at my head. I easily duck it, and it hits the wall behind me, shattering into a mess on the floor. I cock my brow beneath my mask as I walk around the island.

“You’re insane!” she screams, whipping the hair out of her face.

“Mmm.” I run my tongue along my teeth. “Yeah.”

She holds the knife out strong and steady, pointing it at me while she walks backwards along the island, keeping it safely between us. In a quick move, I plant my palms, lift my legs, and slide my ass over the island. Gasping, she backs herself against the opposing counter, knife to my neck again.

I wipe my fingers across my bloody lip and reach out to touch her. She swings the knife, slicing a decent cut on my forearm.

I hiss in pain before a rumbling groan leaves my throat.

“Shit, baby,” I say, eyeing the wound. A devilish smile creeps across my face as I continue leaning forward. “I never knew how much I’d enjoy your infliction of pain. You’re a vicious little thing. Got more fight than I thought.”

I reach out again, and she keeps the knife to my neck this time. Taking two fingers, I wipe the blood from my lip slowly across her exposed collarbone, over her shoulder and down her arm until I reach the strap of her shirt that’s fallen there. Gently slipping those two bloody fingers beneath the strap, I slide it back up her shoulder, eyeing her throat, imagining wrapping my palm tightly around it as my gaze trails back up to her dilated eyes.

Just as my fingers drop from her shoulder, she reaches her free arm back, somehow grabbing a bottle from directly behind her, and swings it down on my head. It hits me near my temple, shattering across the kitchen as the ringing in my ears floods my head. My eyesight blurs.

She runs past, but I grab the end of her hair with one hand, gripping it tightly as she slips and falls hard on her back atop the red mess of wine and glass now beneath us. She groans in pain as I fall to my knees next to her, a mad laugh leaving my chest as I attempt to shake the stars from my vision when she crawls to her feet and takes off towards the front door.

She can’t leave.

Twisting the knob, she opens the door and a sigh of relief leaves her. The relief is short-lived as the door swings into my boot. I lean over the top of her, slamming the wooden door shut with my palms directly before her face. She sobs in defeat, pressing her forehead against the wood before rolling along the door and turning to face me. I press my hips into her, pinning her in place. Her hair is a mess of webs strewn across her beautiful face, the tears causing it to stick to her cheeks. Lips part as she pants, exhausted from the demonic little game.

The blood from my head drips down onto her nose and cheek, but she’s too tired to fight back, too tired to even wipe herself clean of me.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful wearing my blood,” I say, cupping the side of her face, gingerly rubbing more onto her cheekbone.

Doesn’t she realize how brutally beautiful she is? How embracing that darkness within her could make her more powerful than she ever imagined. Luring it out is the task I’m destroying myself to fulfill.

“You won.” Her voice breaks, sounding entirely defeated.

“Oh, sweetheart,” I whisper, running my lips along her jaw, finding my way to her ear. “Don’t you see? We both win this way.”

I lick the shell of her ear, and she shudders against me. Pressing my hard cock against her hip, there’s no denying what that little game just did to me. The insatiable need to fuck her senseless is a growing urge I’m struggling to control. My body craves this woman who’s learning to fight, learning to stand strong on her own, even if it’s against me.

Pulling back, I look down into her eyes; the blood smeared across her face, making the cool blue of her eyes strike through me even harder. She’s well aware of the effect she has on me, even if it makes her blush with indecent thoughts. She bites the corner of her lip, her long black eyelashes fluttering up to meet my gaze, the possibilities of sins she’s always desired flashing behind her eyes.

Let the baptism begin.

“What happens now?” Her voice is a breathy whisper. One filled with terror and intrigue.

“A rebirth. Revival. An awakening of sorts,” I comment, brushing my fingers along her temple.

Her eyes wrinkle with worry as a soft whimper slips from between her lips. I know she’s a virgin. Easing her into this is going to be hard for me when I want to own her by breaking her so devastatingly. But, we’ll start slowly, the introduction to her unknown desires, committing acts of sin other men have put in place to tame her. Before she knows it, she’ll be owning me with that untamable fire she possesses.

“Now be a good girl and suck on my tongue,” I demand, leaning forward, offering it out to her.