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Somewhere in the air I smell the soft fragrance of brittle flowers.
I turn on the kitchen light.
The roses I gave her. They’re dying.
They stand in a vase on the kitchen counter.
I pick up one single rose, drooping now, a pale pink shade almost gone white; it is brittle to the touch and tiny flecks fall from my fingers.
Just like Quinn — brittle to the touch, delicate, but timelessly beautiful; but also subject to time and change.
But I will fix that.
I walk back into her bedroom, taking her sleeping body in, possessing her with my gaze. Her position hasn’t changed – her arms flared out, hips thrust to the side.
Looking at her, an intense, violent desire seizes me at once. I want to bite her furiously, sink my teeth into her skin and fill my mouth with her blood, fluid gushing against my chin. I want to take her inner thigh and dig my teeth, biting until flesh comes apart in my mouth.
But in all due time.
Right now, I have to wait until she is ripe for the picking.
I circle her bed one last time, drifting my fingers down her cheek. “Until tomorrow.”
I leave Quinn’s house just as I came in, silent and cunning like a master escape artist. In my car, I can think of nothing but Quinn’s white flesh, laid out tight and clean against her body. The violence with which I want to bite her flesh, ravage her neck and take her body and use it as my own, causes me to lust beyond reason, an erection sticking straight against my black slacks.
I barely make it through my front door before my cock stands in full view. It throbs, hot and pulsing. I grip it in my fist and make my way to the bedroom.
I open my closet of knives, immediately reaching for the ka-bar. I take off my shirt, pants and underwear, and sit down hard on the bed. The passion rising up and warming my chest threatens to make me climax, so I waste no time slicing across my right breast with the ka-bar knife. As the dark crimson slice gives way to a larger pool, I pump my cock twice and cum, blood dripping down into my groin.
I sit back and think of Quinn, of her ghost white body, and can only guess at how our ecstasy could compare to shedding my own blood.
I take my fingers and lap up my own blood. I suck on my fingers, savoring every last drop. My lust is insatiable – and nothing can quench it save for Quinn, that luscious body filled with sweet nectar.
11
QUINN
The following morning, it’s raining outside. I stretch out across my bed, groaning.
For some reason, I feel extremely alert as I lift myself from the mattress, ready to start a new day.
And very aroused.
My pajamas cling to my legs, and I can feel the moisture gathering around my thighs.
I look down at my pillow, and there’s a single rose from the counter, placed very particularly, as though deliberate.
“What the hell?” I ask myself quietly, picking it up and examining it. The petals have started to fall off, and it looks like it’s dying now.
I should have taken as much care of the roses as I did of the other flowers, which are now safely in the greenhouse, fruitfully producing more crops and flowers. Last I checked though, the roses were doing fine. I’m not sure what happened between now and then that could have killed it, but they seem to be wilting.
Removed from context, I might have thought that I carried it over here, but I know better.
My suitor is getting more bold. Now he’s not just leaving items on my front porch or giving them to delivery people.
He’s entering my house now too.
And that scares me for a moment, before I feel a new wave of excitement rush over me.
