Page 75 of Crybaby

“And now?” Blake asks, awaiting instruction. He seems on the verge of laughter, which makes me want to choke him out.

“Lie on your back.”

“Do I get a pillow?”

“No,” I respond coldly.Well, maybe a pillow to suffocate your fucking face…

Blake lies back against the cold floor, his dark jacket flapping open like a crow fallen. The shine from his belt buckle catches in my eyes from the reflection of the dotted lights in the ceiling. The music in the club is a throbbing electric bass, a perfect soundtrack to this meeting. If he screams, no one will hear it.

It’s like I’ve made a wild animal surrender, and while I feel powerful, I know that at any given moment, the animal could bite and destroy me. Or strike out like a snake, and it would be too late for Rev to get to me.

I place my heels on either side of his body, and his eyes come alive as he stares up at my dress.

“There she is,” he says, focusing between my legs, licking his mouth.

I slide my dress farther up my thighs to give him a better view since it will be his last. Blake’s excitement is obvious, and I feel like stomping on it.

Rev is merely a smile in the darkness like a Cheshire cat observing.

It’s time to show him what I have planned. I like Rev watching me. I know he will reward me later for my performance with his beautiful body.

I crouch down and lower myself onto Blake’s face. He laughs as he’s smothered by my silken underwear. It’s a funny game to him, but a game that doesn’t end well.

I grind my hips harder, pleasuring myself on his mouth, and feel him gasp for air, his jugular jerking and hands almost reaching up to move me away, but stop and fall back down to the floor. It’s almost like he wants punishment. To feel what it’s like to surrender. He’s going to fall on his sword.

I feel myself getting wet, but it’s not out of desire for this monster; it’s excitement over the power. Suddenly, I’m beginning to understand him. The mind of a predator. A filthy animal. Perhaps I am just as filthy?

Rev steps toward me from where he was watching patiently and positions himself where I can see his beautiful face in the half light. The candles flicker light into his eyes and across the side of his angular jawline and anticipatory lips. He rubs his face and studies the situation.

He’s wondering where this is going. I can see his aroused curiosity, but he gives me space to do what I like.

I push down harder, eyes locked with Rev as if it’s his face I’m pushing into, and then everything ceases…suddenly, every muscle in Blake stops. He’s passed out beneath me. From lack of oxygen or drug-induced, I’m unsure.

I shuffle back and straddle his chest. He’s out cold. But breathing.

“Nice work,” Rev says with that handsome half smile. Erotic asphyxiation clearly gets him off. “If I was going to die, I’d choose that option.”

“He’s not dead,” I reply, disappointed in myself.

“Well, no. But whatever he snorted seems to have taken effect, and I’d say he’s coming back soon. So what are we doing?”

I study Blake’s face intently; he’s very pretty for a demon spawn.“Help me turn him over?”

“Of course, baby,” says Rev affectionately, and he holds my face in his hands while stepping on Blake’s head and kissing the side of my mouth.

He helps me stand, and without my help, Rev uses his boot to kick Blake over onto his stomach. I hear a small oomph as air escapes his lungs, and he does a face-plant on the floor.

There is so much I want to do. But time is the enemy, and I know the only reason Blake didn’t fight me is because he’s a sick puppy. He thought he wasn’t in danger because he underestimates me. That’s how arrogant and cocky he is.

But he will soon see that he should never underestimate a woman hell-bent on revenge.

I scan the room and pick up a glimmer of an antique knife on the ornate desk against the wall. Blake’s out cold—he’s not going anywhere for the moment. I look at his pretty face in some kind of slumber. Peaceful, with slow breaths.

How could this person who looks so quietly innocent be such a monster?

I wonder what happened to him to create the darkness he now lives in. But he made his bed, and he’s going to have to lie in it, soaking in his own blood, care of yours truly.

I clench my teeth, thinking about how he violated me. It wasn’t pretty, and I wish I could erase the images he has of me from his mind. Like deleting shots from a photo reel in a phone. But I can’t.

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