Page 7 of Tainted Wings of Failure

It takes a while for me to relax, allowing him to ease the knife out of me without hurting me. "Good girl," he hums his praise as I lie motionless on the bed, my eyes closed under the blindfold, as I focus on my breathing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In the daze of my orgasm, I barely register the sound of his footsteps walking away from the bed, followed by the rustling of clothes dropping to the floor in the distance.

Once the mattress dips and a set of arms wraps around me, taking me further back onto the bed, I snap out of my haze. He lays me down in the sheets, spreading my legs and kneels between them. His now exposed skin burns against mine.

"Look at you," he says. "Your pussy is dripping in my blood." He places his hand on my pubic bone, running his fingers over my cunt, flicking my swollen folds before drawing a path from my abdomen up to my breasts, leaving a trail of warm blood along the way. His big hands cup my tits entirely, squeezing the soft flesh, pinching my swollen nipples, eliciting a squeal from me. But his attention shifts from my breasts, his hands leaving the mounds and moving upward until he curls his long fingers around my throat. "I’m going to fuck all that blood inside you. Stuff you so good you will feel full for days," he says in a deep, husky voice.

I sob, tears of frustration streaming down my cheek as my breathing quickens again, and I begin to yank at the zip ties, struggling to free myself. I want nothing more than to touch him.

"Do you want me to cut you loose?" he asks, giving my throat a squeeze.

"Yes, please, please cut me loose!" I choke out between sobs. "Please!” I yell, then squeak as he lets go of my throat, wraps an arm around me and hauls me into a sitting position. The sound of plastic snapping follows and my arms fall free. Without hesitation, I wrap them around his shoulders and press my face up against his, our noses colliding in an awkward attempt to smash my lips against his. He chuckles with amusement, the vibration from his chest resonating throughout me.

"Impatient, are we?" he says before pressing his lips to mine in a feverish kiss and shoving me back into the sheets as he remains on top of me, trapping me between him and the bed.

I run my fingers up his neck to his hair, clutching at the short, sticky, waxed strands as I willingly open my mouth to allow his tongue to devour mine. My heart pounds in my chest as I feel the tip of his hard cock pressing against my beaten opening; my muscles pulsate against him, anticipating his entry. My lips part further in a loud but muffled moan as he thrusts forward, burying himself inside me as far as my body allows. My hips stutter from the stretch, jerking against him while he freezes in place.

"So warm, so good," he mouths against my lips, his hot breath brushing against my skin, the scent of cigarettes and mints tickling my nose. With my eyes covered, I feel every inch, every ridge, every prominent vein on his cock more intimately as it pulsates inside me, pumping blood through its length.

A soft whimper slips out of me as he pushes himself up to kneel between my legs, his body draped over me disappearing, taking all the comforting warmth with him. His hand finds its way back to my throat, his long fingers wrapping around it. My mouth falls open again in a silent moan as he withdraws his hips and glides out of me, only to slam back in. I cry out at the impact of his hips hammering into mine, my hands flying up to clasp at his hands around my throat, clawing at his skin as he drives his hips into me again and again in a violent rhythm, my body bouncing back and forth on the mattress.

Not being able to see heightens my senses of touch and hearing, and all I can focus on is each stroke of his hips, his bleeding hand wrapped around my throat, coating me in a warm liquid, while all I can hear is his loud grunts every time our hips collide with a wet squirting sound as he forces the blood into me.

High-pitched moans, no, screams escape me in the same rhythm as his thrusts. Digging my nails deeper into his arms, he tightens his grip on my throat, squeezing harder as I scratch his skin, not caring if I break it.

From the lack of blood reaching my brain, even in the darkness, the room around me spins in circles as dizziness clouds my senses. Even as I fight consciousness and my body sinks into the sheets, my grip on his arms loosening, he doesn't let go. Instead, he squeezes even harder.

It is only when I nearly lose control that he finally releases my throat. My upper body immediately lifts off the mattress and I gasp for air as the blood rushes back to my brain in a big thunderous wave. My moans fade, replaced by snotty, sobbing cries, tears soaking my blindfold as he continues his assault.

The moment he lowers himself back down onto me, I throw my arms around his shoulders for support, holding on to him as if he is my only lifeline. One of his hands slips under my head and he pulls the blindfold off my face, allowing me to open my eyes. Blinking repeatedly, I fight back the tears and adjust to the newfound light, his face finally appearing in front of me.

I tighten my grip on him and crash my lips against his. The kiss is messy, our tongues tangled in a slobbery dance. I sink my nails into his back, catching on his prominent scars, tearing at the rough edges while holding on tight as another orgasm hits me. My body is trembling and I cling to him while another wave of pleasure rips through me. My muscles tighten around his cock, his thrusts slow.

He grabs a handful of my hair and continues to fuck me with slow and shallow thrusts throughout the pleasure. His hips begin to stutter and with one last deep stroke he pauses, his cock pulsing against my throbbing muscles as he fills me with his hot cum.

Our heavy breathing falls into sync as we remain in the same position, connected by our hips, with him on top of me, savoring our shared orgasm. He lowers his entire body weight onto me, and I welcome him with open arms, burying my face in his hair and inhaling the fruity scent of his hair wax.

After what feels like an eternity, he softens, slips out of me, and rolls onto his back, releasing me. With my new freedom, I take a deep breath before I push myself up into a sitting position and look down at my body. My breath catches in my throat and my heart skips a beat at the sight of the state I'm in. My lower half is covered in dark blood, mixed with my own arousal and the white of his cum dripping out of me. The streaks of blood spread across my stomach to my tits, where perfect handprints mark my skin before the trail continues to my throat. I get on my knees and fling one leg over him, straddling his hips.

"Hey, hey, are you already in the mood for round two?" he teases, still gasping for air.

"No, show me your hand," I demand, and he complies, offering me his hand with the fresh, gaping injury, revealing the underlying tissue.

"You need stitches." I take his hand in mine to inspect the gash.

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah," he says, then sits up and wraps his arms around my waist. "After round two." He grins.

It is my turn to roll my eyes at him and I sling my arms around his neck. "Let's see if you have enough blood left to get it up."

Chapter 5

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