I could-
The sound of her seething interrupts another hellish thought. “I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you and I swear if you don’t kill me, I will find someone who will. You won’t get the money, you won’t get my ugly fucking eyes! I will track down every Repo Man in this forsaken city until one rips my-“
Rage burns through my arousal, through the forbidden thought that had poisoned my mind as I bring my hand down hard on that still pulsing mound, ripping a scream from her that’s half pain and half pleasure, “Mine, your heart is mine.” I growl, notching myself at her entrance before she has a second to recover from my slap. My own heart doing some strange kind of acrobatic maneuver in my chest as she glares at me, a hint of anger, true anger budding in her boring eyes. A smirk buds on my face as my mechanical hand tightens around the bar braced between her legs, using it as leverage as I bury myself in her in one swift movement. Her answering scream merging with my DNA. Sinking into Reverie feels like my first kill. My first fuck and the first time I saw the sun all wrapped into one. It’s good. Alarmingly good.
Reverie is something you don’t come back from.
But I’ve never been a quitter, not about to start now, balls deep in a fucking goddess of a woman strapped to my kill table.
She doesn’t get a full breath into her lungs when I disengaged the top restrains, making them go slack as I jerk her up off the table by the bar. Holding it there as I slowly pull back, my balls tighten with the need to fill her cunt to the brim. Just at the sight of my cock disappearing into her I’m about to explode. Ashen pale flesh against warm bronze that rivals the statues they love to build Above. A soft whimper leaves her mouth as I slam back into her, fucking her as her head lulls backwards, her breasts hidden thrust up by her thighs. Her hands aren’t fisted as they were before, now they’re gripping the chains binding her as if she needs to be steadied.
“Fuck sweetling.” I whisper, quickly losing my control, my handle on the situation.
The sound of slapping flesh fills the room as my thrusts turn brutal. Slamming my cock inside her, forcing her to take every inch as her sex constricts around me. Gripping and quivering as mumbled pleas spill from her mouth mixed with stifled whimpers and cries. Not the right kind of cries, not ones that come with tears, but my goal in bringing her here is all but forgotten as I rut into her.
“More.” She moans, making me falter as her eyes open zeroing in on me, her lids heavy with pleasure as she jerks her hips trying to grind herself down on my cock. “Nine…” My name leaves her mouth like a plea and my cock hardens further, threatening to end the fun here and now.
What the fuck?
I slam her back against the table, exposing my cock to the cool air of the room, knowing if I don’t now I’m going to come far sooner than I want to.
Thenshewants me to, “Restraints disengage.” I command, watching her brutalized body sag, bruises already forming everywhere she was touched by metal as I follow her up onto the table. Wrenching her up before slamming her down on my cock.
Her scream melts as her weak hands find the back of my neck, numb no doubt from hours of little circulation. I still… only for a moment. The fact that she’s… holding onto me, is thrusting my brain into a grinder. My own hands take a bruising hold on her wide hips, slamming her swollen cunt down over my cock like I’m trying to hit her heart from here. “Fuck you’re weird.”
“Shut up.” She pants, grinding into me. Her nails digging into the back of my neck, adding to my pleasure more than she’ll ever know.
More than I’d ever admit.
My mechanical hand creates dents in the beautiful supple flesh of her hips while my other makes a trail up her spine, her breasts flush against the fabric of my suit. Another added to the long line of regrets spurred by her, not removing my suit. Robbing myself of the sensation of her pert nipples rubbing against me. Reverie tenses as her sex grips my cock, her head falling forward to rest on my shoulder, but that won’t do. My hand finally meets the soft strands of her hair as it knots there, allowing me just the perfect leverage to wrench her head backwards. Fucking her mercilessly as I pin her with my eyes, watching.
Waiting.
Her orgasm rips through her, forcing my number from her full lips again, forcing me to topple alongside her. Both of us taking the thousand story fall in stride before slamming into the concrete. My thrusts become jerky and uncontrolled as I spear into her, ripping the breath from her lungs as my own release barrels through me with enough force to change things.
To change everything.
And all the while her eyes are utterly fucking empty.
6
A Number
Reverie
My hands are trembling, but I grip the harsh cold edges of what should’ve been my death bed anyway. Ignoring every signal from my body to stop, to shy and hide away. Not just from what just happened, the way an assault had turned to a pleasure I never dreamed imaginable, the way I had wanted it from the start. I fight the urge to shy away from the pain that follows every movement, to remain still and allow his drone unmitigated access to me. My skin is smeared with blood, sweat, andhim. Something close to embarrassment lingers underneath the dew of pleasure, of…awe. Along with disgust, neither of them pronounced enough to make any sense at all. I’ve never made any sense at all. Even as a child, I didn’t feel things like I should. Sure, there were strong bits of feeling. Sadness, loneliness and anger, but even then it was either felt so extremely it burned me whole or fizzled briefly like a droplet of water on a heating plate. Still, the way he pulled me from him, discarding me without a look, not even a glance at what he’d done sours my stomach. Despite being hyperaware he brought me here to kill me, his goal is to kill me.
He flicked his wrist making me flinch as a drone zipped to his side from somewhere else in the chilled room; the table filled with his tools toppled over scattering implements of death and dismemberment across the floor. I never even heard it fall.
“Heal her.” He spit before stalking from the room. His surgical helmet gripped so tightly in his mechanical hand it cracked as he cleared the door, sealing me inside.
I didn’t check; I don’t need to. I wouldn’t leave even if he’d ordered me to.
It needs to be him… the one that kills me has to be Nine.
Still, that anger is there, the type that builds into something bigger, something that burns. He shouldn’t have just left like that… like the other man did. My fists tighten against the table further, egging it on. It’s rare for me to feel anything this strongly, so I’m always sure to lean into it when I do. It’s a break from the numb… half-baked things I usually feel. Never anything with an edge.
Except when he touched me…