Page 616 of Rage

I adjust my cock as I step into the car, the blood, the fear, everything about taking someones life, makes me harder than a rock.

“Oh my god, again?” Her bright laughter makes me smile. “Maybe you do belong in an asylum.”

“I can’t help it. It turns me on.” Starting the engine, I pull away from the kerb.

“Okay, seriously, can I open it now?” She holds the box on her lap, the gift I gave her since finding out it was her birthday a week ago. I couldn’t do much because I don’t have a dollar to my name, but I know it’ll make her smile.

“Go ahead,Slasher, open it.”

She pulls the lip of the box open and her eyes widen. “Um...” She pulls out the handheld chainsaw and looks at me.

“Happy birthday.”

“A chainsaw? Really?”

“Yeah. You never know when you might need it. Plus, I thought you could use it tomorrow.” I test her, to see if she’s ready to confront her parents and she sits up. A few days earlier, after some serious torture and unconventional coaxing, a cop admitted to being funded by a large organisation. One that deals with criminals of the human trafficking kind. As it turns out, it’s owned by her family.

“You’re right.” She leans over and places a kiss on the corner of my mouth, dangerously close to my lips. “I can’t wait forever.”

“But tonight is your night. What do you want to do?”

“Hmm...” She taps her fingers on the box. “Let’s go to St. Benedicts again.”

I groan, “Fuck. I bring you thereonceand now you won’t go anywhere else.”

“Take me there or I’ll shoot you.” She playfully holds the gun to my head, the blood rushing to my cock again.

“OhSlasher,don’t tease me.” I roll my hips, the friction from my jeans making me harder.

“You’re sick.” She giggles, trailing the gun down my chest, her hot breath on my ear as she whispers, “I think I’m sick too.” Gliding the gun down further, she rests it right on my cock, her wet tongue travelling from my lobe, down my neck.

“Fuck,” I whisper as she slowly rubs the gun over my dick, the material of my jeans pulling the skin back and forth. “I’m going to crash this fucking car.”

“Do you want me to stop?” she asks, knowing that I don’t want her to do anything other than put her fucking hands on me. I’m being patient because I want her to do it in her own time and I want her to be in control.

“Keep going.” I grind my hips into the gun, thinking about the two men she’s killed, their blood on her hands and face as she stood over them. “You’re fucking extraordinary,” I whisper as she picks up speed, nudging the gun down to my balls and flicking off the safety switch. “Oh shit.”

“Are you scared?” she taunts and I close my eyes for a second before gritting my teeth.

“No. But I think I might come,” I confess, our gaze clashing as the light twinkles inside her eyes with excitement.

“You will.” She glides the gun over my cock again, the safety now off, the adrenaline thick like blood in the air. Rolling my hips, I groan as my dick twitches, every muscle in my body tensing as I explode in my pants. I try to catch my breath as she steadies the steering wheel, snaking her other hand into my hair.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” she says and her blue eyes make me question why we didn’t meet earlier in our lives.

“One hour, okay? People will be looking for both of us,” I warn.

“It’s my birthday, Elias. I want to have some fun before I’m locked up in prison for murder.”

She takes my hand, pulling me through the crowd of half-naked men.

“Two Tequilas, please.” She pulls out a wallet I’ve never seen her carry before and slides a fifty over to the bartender, looking back at me shrugging. “What... it was literally hanging from his pocket.”

“Not bad,Slasher.Not bad at all.” We down the shots as she orders four more and we take them over to a table that's available at the back of the club.

“Quick ones. Your turn,” she says, handing me a shot.

She decided she wanted to get to know me, so we came up with a fun way to do it.

---