Page 67 of Collateral Damage

“You've dealt with scarier things than thisLove.” Yeah. I've dealt with her. She's more like a tornado, flattening my life and destroying everything in its path purely out of spite.

“You're not funny.” She licks her lips. Locking eyes with me as she walks towards me, leaning over me with her hands on the back of the couch and I can smell the damp on her clothes.

“Lie again. And I'll shove it back down your throat.” My heart stops. It's practically pitch-black with only a few candles dotted around the room and her face flickers in the horrors of the storm, lighting up the sharp features in her facial structure.

“I'm not lying.” I would like to say I'm not, but the hurricane inside of me is heavily contradicting my words.

“And I'm a saint.”Her head tilts, studying my eyes through the depth of the room and I want to smack her for being so sarcastic as much as I want to press my mouth against hers. She's far from a saint but her actions contradict the monster she lets control her.

“Is that what you tell yourself?” I hiss, scowling up at her but my eyes won't stop fixating on her lips. She thinks that because she holds my heart in her hands, that makes her powerful?

“No. That's what you tell yourself, so you feel less guilty about that pulse between your legs.” My legs instinctively squeeze together, chewing my bottom lip as my pulse reacts to her words like a call.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”Why did I say that?She smirks like the devil in carnage, letting go of the couch to stroke the flush in my cheeks with her fingers as she finds my face in the dark.

“Are you ready to swallow that?” My body flares like fire beneath my flesh as her thumb slides its way inside my mouth, easing against my tongue before her middle and index fingerenter, pushing until they hit the back of my throat making me choke and my eyes leak along with my decorum.

My legs creep apart so naturally, gagging on my purity as I invite the devil in. Unable to see her until light breaks through the shadows.

My Nightmare.

“You take me so well,Doll.” Her words ring through me like white noise, salivating around her fingers, now dribbling down the centre of my lip, grinding against the apparition of her as she stands between my legs and I’m about to break. I cling onto this compulsion, feeling my tongue glue to her fingers as she draws them out, using my spit as lubricant as she smears it over my bottom lip. Her forehead rests against mine, wetting my face with her damp locks, her hot breath warming my cheek. I’m concentrating on her body weighted against me and the pounding between my inner thighs to shut out the clouds crashing above us, mimicking the sound of the thunder in my chest. How my heart is telling me to lean in and steal a kiss.

My breathing is irregular, trying to keep it steady but the more I move the closer we become until I can practically feel her bottom lip graze mine withneed. She’s fighting this just as much as I am but this gravitational pull is sucking me in like a tidal wave, drawing me in until I crash against the shore and I realise her mouth is my shore, sucking in a sharp breath as our lips meet, drowning in this rapture as my nerves dissipate. Her warmth imprisons mine cautiously, gradually breaking this wall we’ve both built. I feel her resistance through the trembling of her mouth, merely connecting through severed vibration, trying to figure out if I meant to make a move, teasing my decision as she pulls away, still holding herself back. But I don't want her to.

I want this. I wanther.

“Please… Don’t stop.” She’s been dipping my feet into the shallow end of the pool, but the truth is. I’m tired of testingwaters. I’m tired of being careful. Of being afraid. I want her to pull me under and let me drown in this guilt I carry for wanting to willingly surrender myself to the very woman who made me want todie. She vowed to take my life but the problem is. She already has. She had it the moment she saved my life. My perception of life and death, it’s all about the part you play. The story you learn. Not all villains are born that way. She was not born a monster. She was brought up to believe thatpainwaslove, andlovewaspunishable.

I can see in her eyes that she’s just as scared as I am. To let herself feel.To let go. But I nuzzle my head against hers, playing with her desires to take what ishersuntil she folds, lapping up the taste of my surrender, quenching her thirst as her tongue slides inside my mouth dancing in rhythm with mine. I’ve never kissed anyone. I don’t know what I’m doing but this feels natural.Instinctive. If sinning is as bad as they say then I'm already shunned.

This heavy weight on my chest is lifting the harder she thrashes against me, digging me into the couch as her fingers reach for my throat, cupping it gently with malice, holding my innocence in the palm of her hand with intentions punishable by death but my pussy aches for retribution.

I’ve learnt more about myself these past few months than I have my entire life. Our kiss is heavier. Sloppier. Sweat is building against my lower back and my hands reach up for her shoulders, hanging onto her as her knee pushes between my thighs, gasping into her mouth with desperation, melting into her grip as she tugs the scruff of my neck. She tastes like the last piece of cake you left for yourself after a long day, just beaming to let it melt in your mouth. To savour its taste and drown in the sweet satisfaction.A delicacy. She told me I’m a delicacy. Is that what she meant? My cheeks bloom at the very thought and I speak without thinking.

“Please…” I mutter against her parted mouth, too afraid to tell her exactly what I want. But I know what I want, and so does she.

“Tell me… I want to hear you say it.” It’s like mother nature knows my confession as the thunder pauses to let me speak, whispering against her sticky cheek with nothing but confidence casing my tongue.

“I’m ready…”

C H A P T E R 40

HER DELICACY

Puppet

She takes my invitation without a second thought and her entire demeanour shifts, delicate but heavy, trailing bruises down my neck the more vigorous she handles me. Pulling away to remove her soaked tee shirt, lifting it up over her head exposing my own wounded soldier wearing her scars like a sanctuary and my jaw hangs low as her muscles indent her skin against the warm glow, seeing her in an entirely different light as she towers over my defenceless body.Death. Is all she encompasses. Lying here ready todiefor her. Mimicking a shadow coming to devour my soul.

Her fingers trace the back of my arm until she reaches my hand, tugging me with so much force my body slams into her torso. I wrap my legs around her waist as she cloaks me with her arms, lifting me off the sofa with little to no effort making her way to the bedroom, unable to keep our mouths off one another. My back meets the door, digging into the wood yelping out a cry before she opens it but we are too frantic to pay mind to the mild ache against my spine as it’s now cushioned, falling back onto the bed where thunder rattles in sync with us, hitting it with heavy impact.

This is really happening. Oh my god.

Hunger is driving her thoughts as she devours my skin with her teeth, nearly drawing blood whilst trailing down my chest, licking against the fabric lining my breasts sending waves through my spine, clawing at my skimpy top until it rests under the cups exposing me for her to play with as she sucks on her thumb before rubbing it against my pink little rose buds. I buck my stomach into her chest as her soft kisses run the length of my tummy, lowering herself between my legs and my thighs clamp against her upper arms, riddled with nerves as her hand runs between the ravine of my breasts.

“Ahh ah ah…Puppet.” Her teeth threaten to nip my inner thighs, bouncing them back open to accommodate her broad shoulders, her fingers tugging at my pants, unhooking them from underneath my ass dragging them up towards her until they are cuffing my ankles, finishing the job with her teeth until they are on the floor.

“I need you open for me.” She lifts her remaining upper bodywear off and over her head. My mouth gapes as her breasts, small but defined, are jewelled with two nipple piercings highlighted in the dull light seeping through the window, smothered in black ink like the rest of her, wrapped around her torso like a demonic entity.

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