Page 46 of The Highwaymen

I'd never felt so alive. The itch beneath my skin was gone, the restless hunger sated at last. In its place was a savage sort of peace, a stillness that came only in the aftermath of the kill. I breathed it in, letting it fill me up, cleanse me.

My cock throbbed almost painfully in my jeans, achingly hard. The brutal violence always got me revved up, made me want to rut and claim and possess. I looked up at Jamie, meeting his wild, fevered gaze. His eyes were blown black with lust, his full lips parted and panting.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” he breathed, his voice rasping. “You're so fucking beautiful like this, all covered in blood. Makes me want to lick it off you.”

I growled low in my throat and shoved to my feet, dropping the hammer with a clang. In two swift strides, I had Jamie pushed up against the alley wall, grinding myself against him.

Jamie moaned as I claimed his mouth in a brutal kiss, all teeth and tongue. The coppery taste of blood mingled with the sweetness of him. My hands roved over his body, streaking his pale skin with crimson.

“Need you,” I growled against his lips. “Right fucking now.”

Jamie rolled his hips against mine, letting me feel how hard he was. “Then take me,” he panted. “Right here. Want to feel you inside me while his blood is still warm on your skin.”

A shudder ripped through me at his filthy words. I attacked his throat, biting and sucking, painting his flesh with gore and bruises. Jamie keened, scrabbling at my back, grinding himself against me shamelessly.

I reached between us, fumbling with his fly. He helped me shove his tight jeans down around his thighs, freeing his flushed, leaking cock. The sight made me salivate. I spun him around roughly to facethe wall. Jamie braced himself on his forearms and arched his back, presenting himself to me.

I slicked my fingers with spit and a smear of blood, then plunged two into his tight heat without preamble. Jamie cried out, clenching around me. I worked him open with quick, brutal efficiency, too far gone to be gentle.

Freeing my own aching cock, I lined up and pushed inside in one rough thrust. Jamie let out a broken moan as I buried myself to the hilt, his body gripping me like a vise. I paused for only a moment, savoring the tight clench of his body around me, before I started to move.

I set a punishing pace, slamming into him with bruising force. Each brutal thrust shoved Jamie against the rough brick wall, the harsh scrape no doubt leaving his skin raw. But he just pushed back against me, taking everything I gave him and begging for more with wordless, desperate sounds.

My blood-slick hands gripped his hips hard enough to bruise as I pistoned into him. The filthy alley echoed with the obscene slap of flesh on flesh, our harsh panting, and Jamie's moans. The thick, coppery scent of blood and sex hung heavy in the air.

Jamie reached back to grip my wrist, smearing the blood there as he urged me on. “Harder!”

“Fuck,” I grunted, slamming into him with renewed force. He was so goddamn perfect like this, begging for my cock. Begging for the pain and the pleasure of it.

I shifted the angle of my hips and Jamie gasped.

“There! Right fucking there! Fuck!”

I hammered into that spot relentlessly, watching in dark satisfaction as Jamie fell to pieces on my cock. His neglected dick wept steadily, smearing the dirty brick wall with pre-cum. He was close. I could feel itin the way he spasmed around me, his muscles fluttering and clenching erratically.

“Touch yourself,” I ordered roughly, punctuating my words with a particularly vicious thrust. “Want to feel you come on my cock.”

Jamie whimpered but obeyed. His strokes quickly turned frantic as I battered his sweet spot without mercy. It only took a handful of tugs before he was painting the wall. With a guttural groan, I buried myself deep and let go, filling him with everything I had.

For a long moment, we just stayed like that, locked together and panting harshly. Jamie sagged against the wall, his legs trembling. I draped myself over his back, nuzzling into the sweat-damp hair at his nape.

Reluctantly, I pulled out and stepped back. Jamie turned to face me, his expression sated and slightly dazed. I drank in the sight of him - hair mussed, lips kiss-swollen, blood smeared across his face and chest. His jeans were still tangled around his thighs, my release trickling obscenely down his legs. He looked thoroughly debauched. Marked. Mine.

“Holy fuck,” Jamie said with a slightly manic giggle. He reached out to smear a streak of blood across my cheek with his thumb. “We should get cleaned up before someone sees us.”

I caught his wrist, bringing his gore-streaked fingers to my mouth. Maintaining eye contact, I sucked on his fingers.

Jamie's eyes widened and darkened as I laved his fingers with my tongue, tasting the coppery tang of blood mingled with his own salty-sweet essence. A low moan escaped his kiss-swollen lips and his spent cock twitched valiantly against his thigh.

“Jesus, Stu,” he breathed.

I released his fingers with a wet pop and smirked. “Get dressed. I got some more stuff I want to work out on that ass.”

Jamie huffed a laugh and began straightening his clothes, wincing slightly as he pulled up his tight jeans over his sensitive flesh. I tucked myself away and retrieved my gore-streaked hammer, wiping it mostly clean on the dead man's shirt before throwing it over my shoulder.

I took a final look at the corpse, now just a cooling slab of meat in a puddle of congealing blood. The savage itch beneath my skin was quiet, my mind clear and calm in the aftermath of brutal violence. I felt centered, grounded, the way I only did after a kill.

But I knew the feeling wouldn't last. It never did. The hunger always came back. Eventually.

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