Page 84 of Voracious

If I’m hungry,weget food.

If I’m overwhelmed,welisten to my book.

After a lifetime alone I’ve found the clingiest person in existence.

He leans down, planting his lips on my forehead before walking me backwards into his closet and my feet stop seeing my things beside his. Even my boxes of stickers are neatly set on their own shelf. Tapping his fingers against my ass, he doesn’t let me go despite the words leaving his mouth.

“Get ready, lisichka.”

And I don’t move even though I should. I like being in Dima’s arms, it’s safe and twin moons always stare at me.His chest vibrates as he leans closer to me, and the deep voice has my knees turning weak.

“Now, or I’ll fuck you all night.”

Part of me argues not to move but the man has an obsession with orgasms. Not his own, mine. I never know how long I’ve been there, and I couldn’t count them if I tried, he does because that stupid clicker stays in his hand and I’m going to break it one day. All I do know is that my body reaches a point where pleasure becomes unbearable while simultaneously begging for more.

The other part of me whispers one word, Nina, and I move. We’re both disappointed and force ourselves to change. I can feel the heat of his stare as I strip down, and my dress doesn’t allow me to wear a bra. There’s a deep rumble disturbing the air, and I turn my head, looking over my shoulder. Dima has his t-shirt off, it’s held tightly in his fist, the top button of his jeans is undone, and he squeezes his dick while staring at me. There’s a chain around his neck with a small coin pendant that I’ve never seen before.

I feel like a deer watching the hunter stalk me through a scope. His control is forged from the strongest material because he doesn’t take a step closer to me despite the wildness in his eyes. I like it. I want to test how strong it is and see if I can make him snap. Without looking away from him, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of my panties and slowly peel them down my legs. They haven’t even touched the back of my knees when he says, “You better be putting another pair on.”

There’s a new edge to his voice, harder, more violent than I’ve ever heard come from his lips.

I shrug to hide my giddiness at the band on his restraint being plucked and step out of my panties before taking my dress down. It’s short and backless to give the image that’s needed, the scars are going to come into use and make people assume they were done by Dima’s gentle hand.

Heat covers my back as I slip into it and it’s harder to ignore him. There are no arms wrapping around my waist as I put on my boots and that edge comes out again when I stand, pretending to be ready.

“One more item, lisichka.”

My laugh fights to be heard, turning into a smirk as I bend forward and play ignorant.

“Oh? The mask, I nearly forgot.”

The skirt of my dress is pulled up as I lean forward, and he palms my ass cheeks. The rough denim presses against the back of my thighs, and I can feel him between my legs from all of his torture rewiring my brain to only recognize his touch.

His voice darkens with lust as he grinds into me and groans, “Walk around like this at home from now on.”

I nod. Why am I nodding? I don’t like not wearing panties usually, but I want to from now on only when it’s the two of us. One hand leaves my ass, and a drawer opens behind me. It closes and pale pink lace is dangled in front of my face with a silentinstruction. I can’t stop my laugh when he’s being so serious as though we’re not going to see every body part in every position imaginable.

Taking them from him when he punishes me by stepping away, I pull them up my legs and right my dress. He’s accustomed to how I get ready, and he reaches for the camouflage makeup to cover my tattoos. The ones on my arms are covered by the sleeves and I’ll be getting my neck piece as soon as I’ve got Nina. When he goes further down my back to the scars, I turn, needing them to remain uncovered.

I’m stopped from giving an explanation at the sight of the small, pale pink coin pendant dangling from his chain.

“It’s my sticker.”

I sound breathless, faraway, my voice coming out from somewhere deep and hidden within me. Cupping my jaw, he strokes my lips with his thumb and smirks. I’m being hypnotized, I don’t know who moves or if it’s my mind zooming into his features, but his face is closer, and he nods.

“Seemed right considering it’s going to be dangling above your face every night.”

I’m definitely being hypnotized as he softly moves his lips over mine, leaving me breathless.

The Moretta maskcovers my entire face, at least I have eyeholes this time. I should be happy that the straps are hidden under my hair rather than it being traditional and having to hold on to it with my teeth. How the fuck did people used to do that? It’s not heavy but their jaw must have ached from being clenched for hours, and it was olden times, dentistry wasn’t even a priorityso they must have been spitting out their teeth when they got home from their syphilis sex parties.

I push the thought away as we’re guided to our seats and Dima keeps a hand on my ass. I don’t know if he’s playing the part of ownership or trying to stop anyone looking at me. His anger hasn’t lessened with my explanation of leaving my scars in view. I know he didn’t do them, but the sick fucks need to believe he would, or we’ll be seen as normal people.

Maybe I should just kill someone out in the open, then they’ll see my violence. There are too many normal people mixed in to hide the depravity. It’s sad that they’re being tainted to give a cover for the people who want to buy children. I smile under my mask, seeing how the table next to us interact, that’s what this is supposed to be. They’re all respectful and treating each other like humans, even the masked people kneeling beside the others aren’t being forced in a malicious way. There’s no one ashing cigars into their mouths or any of the other literal shit I’ve seen. The person sat against the booth has a caring hand on the kneeling one’s head, stroking their hair but otherwise ignoring them.

Looking away before I get caught creeping, Dima pulls me to sit on his thigh. His mask knocks against mine and he keeps his voice low so we’re not overhead.

“Is that what you want, lisichka?”

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