Page 18 of A Torment of Sin

I thought it would be gone now, lessened. It’s not. It’s increasing, causing this girl turning in front of me to become more irrelevant by the second. She’s in black. Pretty in her own way. She should work for me.

She isn’t.

Smoke filters out of my mouth, blowing into the five foot between us. More turning, more sultry, pouted lips and fingers crooking me to her. I’m not going anywhere near her. She’s pitiable in comparison to the thing I’ve already been inside, lacking.

I sigh and lounge back into the plush chair, elbows resting out to the side of me as the inadequate show carries on for my benefit. Another draw on the cigarette and I flick it toward the girl, not caring if it lands on her or the floor. She tries for sexy again, running it under her platform heel to stub it out and waving her ass at me.

My eyes close, head tipping back. She's nothing like Hannah. No bite or sense of dismal. No sinister either. I want my little sinister here with me, want her turning and twirling for me. My dick hardens at the thought of her, a smile grazing my mouth. Tight and firm as she held on to me, nails and muscles straining and clawing.

My neck stretches at the memory, the slices in it pulled taut because of the move. I rub them back on the chair, letting the stabs of pain reverberate through me more than the thought of her already is doing.

Commotion occurs somewhere in the room, screams and giggles as if something is amusing. Nothing is. Only the thought of Hannah and her ominous outlook, her hollow cheeks. The depressive gloom that she seems to hold onto her skin no matter her laughing. Beautiful. Disturbing in some ways. Connected, though – stupidly. I felt that when I was inside her. No drugs then for me. Just me and my thoughts about needing her. A fucking locked door?

Fuck that.

I chuckle and reach into my pocket, pulling out the bottle and tipping it towards my mouth for the second time tonight. Pills spill into me, several of them. My mind doesn’t care anymore what mix they are, or how many. I’ve done the deed now, fucked and enjoyed it. I’ll fall now, willingly. The world and my obligations are far from here for a few days. They’re memories, things that can, for now, disperse and filter passed me without duty involved.

A hand grasps my chin, tugging at it sharply. “I thought you came to watch.”

My eyes open slowly, focus finding Hannah there in front of me. She lets go of my chin and shakes her head, inching her body away from me and swaying her hips to the music. Her arms reach upwards, body undulating and rolling to the sounds. The woman that was there disappears, and all that’s left in my vision is her and the black straps still wrapped around her. Tight straps. Straps that make me think about lifting them and tugging her anywhere I want her.

I chuckle lowly and keep watching as she moves, captivated with her lithe frame absorbed in the deep bass rumbling through her. Hips swaying. Ass pushing back at me occasionally before she takes herself away again and dances some more.

My sense of time evaporates as it goes on, a tunnel forming around her to anchor me to this moment and nothing more. I smile again and let it consume me, watching as the lights bounce off metal buckles and latches. Dark corners pull out around her, her body the focused centre point to laze in.

“Fucked,” mutters out of me, a laugh following it.

She’s in my face suddenly, her hands resting on the side of the chair around me and her legs climbing into my lap. “Not yet,” she whispers. Not yet what?

I blink and refocus at her up close, eyes scanning her lips as her tongue rolls around them. “Are you just watching or fucking again?” Her weight flattens on my dick, body undulating on mine. She grinds hard, rubbing her pussy up on me and working it over the hard ridge of me. “I’d like to fuck again,” she says, reaching her arms upwards. “Only you, though,” she says. “I liked you fucking me. Not them.”

Such pretty eyes. Killer eyes.

I chuckle again, as my fingers reach for her face. They crawl slowly across her cheek to bring her closer to me, and then I look at those lips again. They were good around me. Deep throat. “Suck it first.” Her smile broadens, body leaning back so she can push herself on me.

“No.”

I frown and drag her back to me, hand hard on the back of her neck. “Do you need slapping into it again?” She tries to pull away from the hold I have on her, grating her neck under my fingers. “You’ve come to find me Hannah. Do as I ask.”

She stills in my hold, eyes looking deep into mine. Good. I let her, letting the energy and connection build this time rather than avoid it. She wants me, she can have me, but it’s on my terms. “Suck it,” I mutter, letting go of her neck and pushing her away. “On your knees. Here in front of all these people.”

Still, she gazes at me. Minutes or hours pass by. I’m happy for them to rumble along around us, as I return her stare. Times has gone to me. There’s just a tunnel and her in the middle of it. No concerns. No pressure or limits anymore. I sigh and smile, enjoying the sense of nothing other than her, and watch her slowly lower herself from me to the floor.

No preamble. No flirting other than what we’re already in.

I unbuckle my belt and draw myself out, waving her forward onto it, and then tip my head away up to the ceiling again. No need to watch. I can feel her, sense her in my mind. I grunt as the warmth spreads over me, hips bucking under her assault. Fast and harsh, deep and near fucking painful. Another grunt as she swirls her tongue and sucks harder, building me quickly.

I stare at the colours skipping around in my vision, searching them for pockets of black, and groan repeatedly as she keeps sucking. So deep. Too deep.

Wrong fucking hole.

My hand reaches down to the high ponytail, gripping it tightly to pull her up to me. She climbs as quickly as I pull, her pussy back to resting on my dick before I manage to look at her. Fingers start pumping me. Tight grip, her thumb rolling over the head of me. “Fuck me,” I mutter, still gazing upwards. “Make me come”

The moment she slides that tight pussy down on me I look back at her. Locked on and ravenous for more of her. Easy this time. Slow. We’re going to let these colours spin and this world around us tilt as much as it wants. My hands rest on her hips, fingers looping into the straps made for directing her, and let her move on me. She’s so tight, as she rocks on me and builds her own rhythm. Lithe legs keeping her going, strong core moving her away from me and back towards me.

I gaze, awed by her and her ability to do this to me. Colours swirl around her head, bright and vivid against the backdrop of the dark shadows we’re in. Mouth open, moans and groans coming quietly in the noise. Her hands chase over her breasts, searching for her nipples so she can pull them taut and heighten her time on me. The top straps get pushed out of the way, shoved as if annoying her, and then she’s top half bare and riding me like the minx she is.

A grunt falls from my mouth, as everything starts to blur and change. I don’t need to do a goddamned thing to make her do what I want – she’s doing it anyway, and I watch intently, letting the sensations consume me and bring me closer. My mouth latches onto her nipple as she gets in close and puts her hands in my hair, tugging me to it.

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