Page 28 of The Bitterness of Venom

Watching her frantic movements makes my heart pound as the train barrels closer. The horn so loud it rattles my mind. She falls again but quickly gets up, running down the bridge. Her shaky legs carry her closer, but the train is hot on her heels, making her hair move from the close proximity.

Adrenaline pumps inside me, making my blood pump faster and faster as she gets closer to me. At the last second, I snatch her off the train tracks, laughing manically as I toss her down on the slope of the hill, face first. I straddle her shaking back, pulling the knife out of my pocket, and cutting the zip tie before flipping her over. I snatch the tie from around her face, tossing it behind me before I fix her crooked glasses. Her gaze is not short of murderous as she stares up at me, her hands flying to my taut stomach, raining punches on it. She looks like a vicious cat throwing a tantrum.

I ignore her, readjusting my hard-on. Fuck, I love adrenaline. Nothing gets me going like it.

I pin her tiny arms above her head with one hand, shoving my free one under my shirt that she’s wearing and up her legs. My finger grazes over the thin lace between her thighs. Her breath falters and I can't help but look up and watch her face as I slide a finger inside her.

I grin down at her as her cunt weeps whilst making delicious wet noises. She looks mortified and I, well, I’m about to fuck her. “You’re just as depraved as me.”

She shakes her head, pink hair flying around her face as she tries to deny what we both know. “I’m not.”

I bite my lip, adding another finger, stretching her tight-as-fuck pussy. I can’t wait to feel that around my dick.

I pin her legs beneath mine as I release her hands. My fingers drop to my sweatpants, and I marvel at the sheer panic in her eyes as they drop to my hands.

“Time to take what’s mine.”

NINETEEN

My heart skipslike a broken record.

It’s no secret I have a fucked-up perspective of life, but to be turned on by almost dying is a new low for me. One I don’t want to explore further, but as Desmond pulls his long, thick length out, I know my game is over and a new one is going to begin.

I want this.

I do.

But…

“Wait.” I grab his hand, trying to gain some control of thesituation. He pauses. His dark hair falling over his forehead and into his eyes. I can’t read him. My hands tremble as I squeeze his. “You don’t want this.”

He chuckles. “I can’t think of anything I want fucking more than to fuck you like the dirty slut you are.”

Pleasure and shame twist low in my stomach. My cheeks flushing with more than embarrassment, and I’m left feeling confused by my reaction to his words. “No,” I blurt, digging my fingernails into his palms.

He cocks his head, looking like a predator. “No? You’re telling me,” he moves his fingers inside me, and I die a thousand deaths of embarrassment at the wet noises I make, “you don’t want me to fuck you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

The smile that graces his full lips is that of a villain as he parts my legs, moving my panties to the side and thrusting all the way in.

My breath stills, body taut and unmoving as a stinging burn flares between my thighs. I gasp in pain, my eyes wide and watering as I stare up at Desmond in shock.

His eyes search mine, confused. But then something else switches behind his dark depths. Excitement. But his smile, it’s breathtaking. All sinister and sharp edges.

He pulls out before thrusting back into me. Over and over again, until the pain subsides and something much worse than pain happens. Pleasure. All over my body in the form of goosebumps. Burning through my blood and twisting in my stomach. And I can't stop watching him. The mask falls and he watches me as I writhe beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust. He pushes my shirt up, his hair tickling my nose as he assaults my nipples. Sucking and biting. I clutch his thick strands between my fingers, tugging and holding in my pleasure-filled noises. He grabs one of my legs, wrapping it over his hip and changing the angle, allowing him to thrust deeper, and the whole time all I can think is how much Ifucking want this. How I’ve wanted this for so long. Distance and time did nothing to change my feelings. This is a mistake, but it’s a beautiful mistake. Like morbid art. Wrong but somehow right.

I make muffled noises as he leaves bite marks on my breasts.

He grunts. “Don’t want this? You filthy liar.” He leans up to watch my eyes. “Now fuckingscreamfor me.” He presses on my clit, and I do. I scream his name, my body trembling and shaking under his. And then he’s kissing me.Kissing me.Nibbling on my lips and feeding me his tongue. He grunts in my mouth, and I soak it up. He tastes like bad decisions and peppermint.

He pulls himself out, spilling his hot seed over my stomach, and I watch in amazement as cum and blood mix together.

He throws his head back, pumping his dick to get all of his seed out. Blood covers his hands, but I can't find it in me to be embarrassed. I can’t find it in myself to care about much but watching him work himself off.

He breathes hard, his chest working under his shirt. He runs his finger through the mess on my stomach and I realize he’s writing his name in the mixture of my virgin blood and his cum. I should be disgusted, push him away, hit him, anything but watch him in awe. And when he brings the finger up to his parted lips, sucking it clean while holding my gaze, I think I come again just at the sight.

Thoughts are like annoying gnats.No matter how hard you try to shoo them away, they always come back. And my favorite is regret. Which is what I’m thinking about in mybed, my covers pulled up to my chin as I stare at my ceiling.

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