Page 52 of That Sik Luv

She says something muffled in my hand, but I’m over it. I’m so close. It’s been too long since I’ve felt a pussy wrapped so tightly around my shaft. I’ve dreamed of this day with her since I started stalking her, watching her late at night, envisioning the moment she realizes her body is dripping for me, like it is now. Her arousal is leaking like a fucking faucet all over my cock.

Fuck.

With my hand over her mouth, I feel her teeth sink into the skin of my fingers, and it’s all I can take. Pain, along with pleasure, sends me over the edge. Violence is my love language, and she speaks my native tongue.

I’m gonna lose it.

I quickly slide out of her, gripping the base of my shaft, standing at the edge of the bed and instruct her to turn to face me. Her leg lies awkwardly beneath her as she shifts towards me, the rope still holding tight on her ankle. Getting her on her knees before me, my sickness takes over again.

Desecrating everything this sweet, naïve little doll thinks she believes in, I grip her neck in one hand, breathing hard through the knit mask that’s caging me in. She opens her mouth, sticking her pink tongue out at me like my good girl, assuming I want her to swallow everything I’m about to give her.Quick learner.

Her tears stain her cheeks as the dark, long hair sticks to the side of her face. She peers up at me, terror and intrigue melting together as I tighten my hold on her neck, leaning her back. I fist the tip of my wet cock, and standing above her bare body, I release myself on her heaving chest.

Ropes of white, hot cum pump out of me, coating her breasts, dripping down her collarbone like a beautiful necklace. Her own personal rosary.

The sensations overtake me, and I’m forced to fall forward, bracing myself on the mattress with my hand as I try to regain control of myself.

I stand up, gaining my breath, feeling dizzy and overcome with the immense pleasure as I glance back down at her. Her forehead is wrinkled as her hand goes to her chest. She touches the mess I’ve made, getting some on her fingers before holding it out before her horrified face. Her eyes drift up to meet mine as her fingers fall away, leaving only the middle one. The wrinkles in her forehead smooth out as her eyes narrow, leaving the finger dripping in my cum straight up before me.

She’s flipping me off.

A dark grin slides across my face, and I bite the corner of my lip, holding it back.

“You arrogant, disrespectful son of bitch!” she seethes.

Ah, so my sweet doll understands the meaning behind the necklace.

“Don’t act like you despise it now, sweetheart,” I say, taking a step forward. Gripping her hand with the finger still coated in me, I force it towards her mouth, pressing firmly on her lips against her teeth. She finally parts her mouth open, and I watch in satisfaction as she sucks it clean. “The evidence of that is mixed right in there.”

She turns her head away from me, a scowl on her face, tears threatening to fall again.

I wish society wouldn’t make a big deal about women losing their virginity. Who fucking cares. It doesn’t need to be this big monumental moment. You fucked for the first time. So what? Crying about it? Ridiculous. She should be thanking me on her goddamn knees, crying tears of joy for letting it be me who stripped her of this first. Someone who actually gives a shit about her, not some punk boy from school who pretends to love her before dropping her like a bad habit for the next tight cunt that comes calling.

I find the knife on the floor, cutting her free of the rope. Grabbing her upper arm, I help her stand. She’s a little unsteady on her feet, more than likely sore already. But it will be a feeling she needs to get used to now I’ve had a taste.

She walks along with me as I guide her into the dark bathroom, the moonlight barely leaking in through the tiny mosaic window. Starting up the shower, the water quickly warms up; the steam billowing in the small space as she stands in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself, shivering.

Removing my mask, my hair falls in a disheveled mess over my forehead. I run my fingers through it while feeling the heat of her eyes on my back. She is curious. I know she wants to know the man who just flipped her fucking world inside out.

But is she ready to know my secrets?

Which side will she choose when the truth is known and the entirety of her once preconceived beliefs come crashing down?

Surely not the villain of her story.

I’m meant to kill her. They literally hired me to end her life.

But I can’t.

I won’t.

Because she isn’t like them. She’s like me. Me, before I found my voice in this world. The world meant to control those who didn’t fear an omnipresent god who’s always watching, requiring perfection and fear in his subjects.

Those intelligent enough to know that a god wouldn’t answer the prayers of a young boy looking to win a baseball game, while his half-brother lay near dead, begging for his life in the street from the men his father hired to kill him.

Those who fight back for everything they tried to take while making a mockery of the religion they profess.

One by one, we’ll do what’s necessary.

---