Page 5 of Sinful Little Lies

Once I have confirmation that the cleaning crew is on their way, I turn around and head home, whistling. It was a great release, but it won’t hold me off for long. Soon, I’ll be itching for another kill. A sinister smile creeps across my face as I wonder who will be the next? I wish it could be that fucking prick, Leo, but not yet. I’m taking my time with him.

Until then, anyone else will suffice.

Back home andin my room, I undress and step into the shower. The hot water runs down my face and body, cleansing the devious act I performed on my night stroll.

My cock twitches thinking about that asshole’s bones cracking and splitting, his blood seeping into the ground. I close my eyes and imagine the wetness of the water is the warm liquid leaking out of his cold, pale body.

Wrapping my hand around my shaft, I slowly pump my hand. Nothing gets me turned on like the smell of fresh blood. The only things that could make this moment perfect wouldbe my little monster here with me and if the corpse was Leo instead of whatever dipwad I killed tonight. Blowing out a sigh, my erection grows when Verena’s body forms like a holographic image, next to the deceased piece of shit.

She looks up at me then down at the blood, not showing any semblance of fear. Her hands dive into the ruby river and spread it over every inch of displayed skin. She locks eyes with me and crawls on all fours, stopping right when she’s at my feet. Her bloody fingers grab my erection and pump my length until I’m hard and thick in her hand.

“How does that feel, Grimm?” She purrs, and I’m putty in her hands. Nodding, I attempt to respond but at that moment she takes me into her mouth, her warm lips wrapping around the tip of my cock. My head falls back as I get closer and closer to my release.

“Oh, shit. Yes, V. Fuck, clean it up for me, baby.” I whisper. Grabbing the sides of her head, I lace my fingers through her silky, onyx hair and push my cock deep into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. My pace quickens and her blood-covered hands run down my thighs, her long nails gently scratching my skin, talk about a fucking sensory overload.

My balls tighten and spots line my vision. A shiver skirts down my spine and my release spurts out of the tip of my cock. Curses slip from my lips as I snap out of my daydream and reality fades back in.

My heart aches knowing that she’s at home or with Leo, and she’s hurting. Thoughts run through my mind at one hundred miles per hour and questions of Verena’s state, whether or not she’s safe, causing the slight relief I grasped to slip away.

Washing myself off, I turn off the water. I dry and dress, then roll up a blunt and smoke it till it’s nothing but a nub. The night ahead of me will be a long one. I will come up with a plan andmake sure Leo is never able to touch her again. It may take some time, but I’m taking what’s mine and there’s no stopping me.

4

VERENA

Ten Months Later

“Ugh, no! It’s all wrong.”I huff, throwing my paintbrush on the ground. The first week of my junior year and I already feel like I’m losing my mind.

Why did the introductory assignment for a contemporary art class have to be so frustrating?

Create a piece that shows your personality and passion. The piece must represent who you are as an individual and exhibit at least four principles of art.

I know it's notactuallythat difficult, but every bit of my individuality went out the window after Ronnie died. It’s strange, you’d think I would’ve just grown into something different, but you would be so fucking wrong. Ronnie passed, and I didn’t know who I was anymore. I second-guessed everything I did, from the clothing I wore to the air I breathed.

Grief is a bitch and it can choke on the fattest fucking cock there is.

Picking my brush up, I sit up straight and plaster a disingenuous smile on my face. Fake it until you make it, right?

Wrong. So wrong.This painting can’t be saved. It’s muddy and sad and miserable.

On second thought, this would represent me as an individual and I’m debating on turning in this absolute pile of shit.

“I give up!” I exclaim, admitting defeat and carrying my brushes and paints to clean and store them away. Turning back, my eyes catch one last glance at the monstrosity I created. They roll so hard at the sight, I swear they almost get stuck.

Storming out of the art studio and into the fresh, dewy air, I take three deep breaths before heading out. My phone pings and I reach for it, hoping it's someone, anyone who’s willing to provide me with an escape from my unfortunate reality.

Aspen

Hey babe, RSB party tonight. You in, right?

Me

Abso-fucking-lutely. I was just praying for a stress reliever. Are you…God?

Aspen

More like Persephone but less Queen of the Underworld. That’s your realm. I’m leaning more towards the Goddess of Spring.

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