Page 33 of Destroyed Desire
Damn it. Returning to my work, I fight anxiety and the urge to… do something. I’m not sure what. Arial’s voice plays on repeat in my mind, and I can’t shake it. It’s a trick, I keep reminding myself. It’s just a dirty trick. Everything feels wrong. Gam is gone. The guards don’t trust me. My best friend might be trapped inside a cosmic portal. And Maneshha has my phone and the only piece of my mother I have left.
The guards lead me from the vault once I’m finished. The huge doors slice closed behind me. I’m deposited back inside Gam’s quarters and the heavy bifold doors lock behind me. There’s a plate of food, which is great because I’m starving, but all I can think about is being locked in. It does nothing to help with my apprehension. I’m still a prisoner, reliant on Gam.
Sitting on a strange chair with an exaggerated scoop for a seat, I lean my head back and try to relax. The food smells amazing, so I eat it mindlessly and quickly, not wanting to consider what it might be. Hasn’t this always been my way with food? Hurry up and eat it so I don’t have time to feel guilty?
Realizing what I’m doing, I look at the plate and study what’s there. Some kind of fruit or vegetable, maybe. Meat. A root that looks similar to a purple carrot. Small red squares with a layer of something fluffy, like frosting. I choose the root and take a bite. The flavor is rich. Sort of like a carrot mixed with a sweet potato. It’s velvety on my tongue and has a satisfying after taste.
I try the meat next. Stringy and a little tough, but full of flavor with just a touch of grease. Taking my time, I finish off the plate slowly and realize how satisfying it was to just enjoy. Not be scared of the food or feel guilty about the food. But, to savor it.
There’s a change that has nothing to do with Assassin Krunch. She doesn’t care what she eats. She’s a comic book character who never experiences bloat or gains two pounds from a chocolate chip cookie.
I’m calmer after the meal and thinking more clearly. My instincts are torn between Arial’s voice being real and being fake. Gam will know. But I can’t stop thinking about Maneshha calling him a liar. Is the portal still viable? Can he open it?
If so, he can send me home.
My thoughts make me feel edgy again. Boredom creeps in. Getting up, I wander the interconnected rooms. One leads to the infinity pool. I consider diving in but know it will make me sleepy, so I don’t. Another is spacious and virtually empty. A row of weapons hangs on each wall. Drawn to them, I experience a rush of excitement at the variety of swords, daggers, chains, and things I have no idea how to use.
I don’t really think about it as I take down two daggers and weigh them in my hands. I swirl them a few times and then lunge to see how the weapons handle in my grip. The blades slice flawlessly through the air as I spin, trust, and withdraw, and make diagonal slices in front of my body. Somehow, miraculously, I moved into a flow, my body working in tandem with the weapons as if they are part of me. If what Maneshha said is true, then the cosmic energy from the portal did change me into Assassin Krunch. It’s impossible and fantastic, but I don’t know how else to explain the way I’m dancing with the daggers right now. If there was an opponent in front of me, I’d have them sliced into ribbons. Somehow, I simply know how to do this.
I’m not sure that I like it. Knowing that I am deadly, that I could hurt someone instead of helping them, leaves a bad taste in my mouth. After graduating high school, I began taking archaeology classes and worked as a nurse’s assistant on the side. When my mother became ill, I took a job as a pharmacy technician which offered on-the-job training. I spent the next five years taking care of my guests at the pharmacy and then returning home to care for my mother. Not to mention all of the time I spent working in the nursing home caring for the elderly before I quit to work at the pharmacy. Though I didn’t always enjoy my work, I was good at it, and I always left with a sense of connection with my patients.
And now I have weapons and every intention to use them with deadly force should the opportunity arise. I used to daydream about Assassin Krunch because she was strong, confident, and unafraid. Those are the things I wanted to be.
I never wanted to kill anyone.
A sound from behind me pulls my attention. Holding the daggers in front of me, I spin to the noise. Someone rushes at me. It takes a nano second to recognize Gam. He is also holding a dagger in each hand and his expression is set with intention. I experience a quick flash of apprehension but have no time to dwell on it as I raise my weapons to block a blow from his. The blow isn’t hard, but it’s enough to make the metal clang with reverberation through the room. He delivers another slicing blow, faces me with his legs set wide, and thrusts his blade toward me. I block it easily. We quickly become partnered in another weird dance, slashing and thrusting, blocking, and deflecting. I move easily with him, step for step. Blow for blow. I don’t realize that he’s driving me back against the wall until it’s too late. My fatal mistake. I glanced behind me, see the wall and dart forward to try to avoid it. But his huge body is already blocking me. Weapons up, I growl threateningly at him.
He throws his daggers to the ground and rips mine from my grasp, tossing them on the floor. Our eyes lock and I realize how quickly I’m breathing. How fast and hard my pulse races. It’s not from the physical exertion.
Gam crosses an arm over his body and rips his shirt over his head. My quick intake of breath brings me back to reality. My mouth is dry, my skin flushed.
“Where were you?”
There is a slightly tortured look in his eyes. Concerned, I reach out and lightly touched his face. Something has happened.
“Are you alright?”
“No,” he groans. “I cannot stand this another second, human. I must know what this is between us. This feeling, this wanting.”
While I believe him, because I feel the same way, there’s more to it. There are unspoken words within that sentence. I can tell by the agony that he is trying to hide. Suddenly, all I care about is making him better. Taking away whatever is causing him so much pain.
“I want to know, too.”
He’s using us to block out whatever else is going on in his head. That’s okay because so am I. Being with him might make the noise in my head stop, if only for a while, so I can forget about Arial and everything Maneshha said.
His hands grip my hips, and he pulls me up. My thighs wrap around his waist as I settle on him. Dipping his head, Gam crushes his lips to mine and drives me back against the wall. I hit with a thud but all I care about is tasting more of him. He lifts me higher onto his body. I feel the architecture of his ribs beneath my thighs. One strong arm wedges beneath my ass to hold me in place.
The urgency to take him inside me is all consuming. There’s no turning back. I don’t want to turn back. A wanton flood of desire unlike anything I’ve ever felt, ever, dumps through my veins. I wouldn’t care if the entire Talarion army walked in right now. Nothing would stop me from having him.
His mouth moves lusciously against mine. The kiss is aggressive, possessive. I’ve never been kissed like this before. Shuddering, I arch my hips just a bit. My pelvis rubs against him, and the friction goes straight to my clit. Little shots of pleasure dart through me. I moan and do it again. Gam grips a fistful of my hair and pulls my head to the side. His lips feast on my neck, hard suckles causing zings of pain that will leave bruises. But I don’t care.
I’ve never been hypersexual. Is it me, or is it Assassin Krunch acting this way? No inhibitions. Ready to get kinky. Needing a hard, fast pounding from an alien dick.
Holy shit, it’s me. I think… I think itisme. I’m the dirty sex, alien dick lover.
My monsterfudger book club would be so proud.
What is happening to me?
