Page 80 of Pareidolia

As I think it, the thread between us becomes visible—a line of black that stands as proof that the hollow in my chest was always made to hold Aspen’s heart.

I want him just like this for the rest of eternity. I want to keep him on my cock until his body molds to the shape of it, until it knows nothing else.

“Ride me, little monster. Break yourself open for me. I want to feel how much you need it, how hungry you are for my cock to split you in half.” I squeeze him closer, running my tongue along the line of his neck, greedy to taste his pulse. “Show me,” I demand again.

Show me what love feels like, he’d asked.

Show me how much you want to be mine.

It feels tangential and yet somehow the same.

And Aspen… Aspen gives. Aspen hears the words that I don’t say, the questions that I have no syllables for. He fucks himself until he’s panting, until he can’t catch his breath. He rides me until his pale skin is pink and covered in a sheen of sweat that I lean forward to lick greedily.

I’m filled with his thoughts and emotions. With his need.

Need for one thing.

For me.

Just me.

And everything I can give.

And a need for more.

I catch him as that word thrums against my senses, fingers tangling in his hair, tendrils squeezing him tight and dragging him down on my cock until he’s fully impaled.

“What do you need, little monster?” I whisper, realizing I want to give.

He’s so fucked out when he opens his eyes, so on edge as he squirms on my cock filling his ass that at first he can’t answer. He licks his lips, gasping for breath as he tries.

Finally, he leans in, and I can see the want in his eyes, the desire for something.

For that word more that seems to hold so much weight to it.

“Nox…” he moans, rising and falling in my lap so he can grind on my cock. “Nox, please…”

Fuck, I like how he sounds saying that word.

“Please what?” I hold his hips with two hands, dragging him up and down over and over again until his lashes flutter and he spasms against me.

“I want…” he moans… “Fuck, no… mmm, I need…”

Need… I can feel his need, drowning me, dragging me under. Dragging me closer to him.

“Tell me.”

He licks his lips and opens his eyes to look at me. “I want you to kiss me…” Color rises across his cheeks, desire making his pupils blow wide. “And then I want you to try to kill me.”

Aspen is perfect. We were never made for gentle—we were made for blood and brutality. For pain.

For each other.

Aspen comes with the taste of my kiss on his tongue and my teeth in his neck. His nails dig into my upper arms, and the sharp spike of pain pushes me over the edge. I follow him into pleasure, filling him as he rides me until he slumps against my chest.

As I pick him up to take us back to the cabin, I notice something.

The cuts he left on my arms, little half-moon circles, bleed black.