Page 30 of Grave Love
My kind of woman.
“I drugged you,” I tease in a guttural voice. I tilt my head toward her empty flute. In reality, if I wanted to make her unconscious, she wouldknow.There’s more fun in a victim knowing exactly the kind of fucked up things you have in store for them. It’s a manipulation tactic, using honesty as a means to control the other.
But with Ren, I can play pretend.
“In seconds, you’ll be gone,” I murmur, continuing our dirty talk. “And it’ll feel so good, won’t it, love?”
I pull her up to her feet until our bodies are pressed against one another, the heat of our skin melding us, bringing us closer. Showing us that we’re made of the same exact materials.
I tilt her chin until she’s gazing blankly into my eyes. She doesn’t see me. She sees her final hours. Her salvation.
My balls contract, desire filling my cock with blood.
Iam her salvation.
“You’re just a body now,” I say. “No mind. No soul. Not even a fucking heartbeat. And I’m going to use your cunt.” I growl, then bring my mouth to her ear. “The only reason you exist right now is to please me, Ren.”
“I—” she slurs, but it’s hard for her to keep her words and thoughts straight now. The bitch is too drunk to keep herself together. “We can’t—”
I pinch her chin, then lick the side of her face. The salt on her skin. The sweetness of her moans. She melts into my touch, at the fact that I’m treating her like a toy.
She’s such a deviant little slut.
“Be a good little dead girl and shut the fuck up for me,” I murmur.
A shiver runs down her spine. I hoist her up, forcing her to straddle me as I carry her through the dark building. In the showroom, I lay her down in an open casket and marvel at the thud of her body weight, the casket wheezing into the bier. I pull off her hoodie. Her eyes close. There’s a smile there, like she knows exactly what’s coming, like she welcomes it.
Tonight, her hair is shiny, as if she took a shower for me. Anticipating what I’d do to her. Perhaps doing it for her final night. The little corpse wants to look good in her final hours. It’s entertaining.
I run a hand down her dull, sand-colored arm. She’s nothing like the typical blonds I’ve destroyed. The big tits. Tanned skin. No—Ren is different. But that’s not what makes her so fucking right. Why I can’t stop myself from what I’m going to do next.
It’s the fact that we both know that she got ready for me. For herself. Forthis.That she craves this as much as I do. Displayed like this, a nearly unconscious body inside of a casket, she looks like an offering. A sacrifice. A human doll for me to use.
My dick hardens, my mouth wet, every nerve ending alive with the need to control her. To conquer her until she’s nothing more than a handful of pebbles.
I yank down her leggings and underwear, clear to her ankles. Ren hisses, and I slap her pussy. Her eyes widen, pools of darkness calling to me. I inhale in her arousal, her sour smell, tasting it on the back of my tongue like salt skirting over the skin of a fruit. She cries out.
“Dead girls don’t talk,” I howl.
She whimpers. Her legs spread, and I roll my neck in blatant satisfaction.Fuck,she’s exactly what I want right now. A cunt. A willing slut. A bag of meat for me to destroy. To take everything I have and to open her legs for me willingly.
“This is something different, even for me, love,” I say, lowering my voice. “Tonight, we discussyourpreferred method of reaching orgasm. Next time?” I smirk. “Next time, it’smine.And trust me, cunt, you will scream for me.”
She moans, forgetting my warning. I don’t care. Each noise buzzes with power inside of me. I explore her wet folds, her meaty pussy thick in my fingers, giving me exactly what I need. She’s damp with sweat. Arousal. The freshly trimmed pussy hair tickling my fingertips. Her scent wafts between us. Musk. Sweat. Smoke. The faintest hint of sharpness.
“What makes my little corpse react sowell?”I hum as I tease her sopping slit with my fingertip. She twitches against me, eager for more. Such a willing little cunt. I skim my finger upward, under her shirt, painting her with arousal, my touch leisurely as I near the bells of her breasts. She sucks in air, bracing herself for what comes next.
“Is it your breasts?” I graze her nipples with my palm, the little peaks rising for me. “Your pussy?” Without warning, I dig two harsh fingers into her cunt and curl my fingers until her knees shake, her pussy gripping me like a fucking vice. She jerks forward in surprise. Still, she doesn’t tell me to stop. “What makes youcome,slut?”
“I—” she stammers. I rub the sensitive flesh inside of her, molten and sloppy, her eyes rolling into the back of her skull.
“Too empty-headed to talk?” I tease. I ease my fingers out of her. Her hips roll forward, so eager for more. My cock strains against my pants, aching to answer her call. To fill her up. “You know what you want. I’ve seen you do it here plenty of times, love.” She bites her bottom lip, still humping my fingers, then she whimpers, admitting that gyrating against my hand is not as satisfying as when I take what I want. I chuckle. “What? Were you too carried away to notice me watching you in the corners of the mortuary?”
“I—”
“Too fucking gone to sense my knife inches from your neck?”
“Blaze—”
