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*Eighteen Years Old*
I rolled over, the silken sheets wrapped around my naked thighs as I turned my head and eyed the boy lying beside me. He was weak and easily swayed. A year older than me and one of my father’s foot soldiers with family back in Poland. Uncles and cousins trading in liquor. They were all about their alcohol and threatening companies into using their supply. Not as cut throat as the Russians in personality but they use more lethal concoctions in their spirits. Stuff that makes you forget your own name and half the time forfeit your own life.
He was born here though, doing petty crimes and desperate hold-ups just to prove his worth to the family. His mother had Italian blood, and that was the only reason my father used him for grunt work. He was too naive to understand only full bloods would make it up in the ranks. He’d never be a made man, no matter how much he tried.
If my father knew one of his recruits had touched me in such a way, he would have his hands removed.
My gaze dropped and I looked at his wrist, the one that hugged tight the pillow clung to his chest as he slept with unafflicted bliss.
I imagined myself taking it instead.
The sounds of his fictional screams echoed in my mind and it became almost impossible to remember the silence that once surrounded me. I saw the blood and felt it splatter against my parted lips as I licked away the sweet cherry-like crimson.
He wailed, and I’d hit bone. My breath hitched and my pussy heated. It was a chimed clank against my steel blade that sounded like the sweetest melody.
An ache beat inside of my chest as my heart raced and I shivered with how vivid the imagery was.
Erik snorted a broken snore before he choked, the sound getting caught in the back of his throat. It was almost enough to stir him awake, but not quite.
I reached out and trailed my deft index finger down his back, between his shoulder blades, and smirked as his muscles rippled at the contact. Traveling down to his waist, I flicked off the thin sheet that covered his naked ass and then gently rolled him over. There was definitely something wrong with me.
Wrong with how much I craved to watch people bleed, but in my line of work, it was useful.
The kind of work that was set on vengeance.
When he was on his back, I took his flaccid cock in my palm and began to stroke it softly. My eager eyes took in the mediocre appendage as I teased it to its full height. It ebbed and throbbed, the thick veins grew as angry as the head I had awoken, when I crawled on top of him and seated myself. A small moan slipped out and I whispered it into his ear, allowing him to hear the sounds of the pleasure I was stealing from him.
Vicious hands wrapped around my waist as his fingers became bruising to my skin. It made me groan with gratitude, the bite of pain almost as fulfilling as the cock that was stretching me wide. I felt so full, so hungry and I needed more than what he was able to give me. Erik’s eyes snapped open, holding mine hostage as I grinned down at him. Those deep moss-green complexities ignited with unbridled desire and thick, hefty lust. Using his grip to rock me back and forth, I purred and wrapped my hand around his throat with a need that was like a chokehold on my self-control.
I wasn’t gentle.
I never was.
I didn’t have it in me to be delicate or to make love. Something unsettled and violent lived inside of me and though I should probably fight it, I never felt inclined to.
I never even saw the boys that I fucked as anything more than a living, breathing dildo.
There was only one pair of eyes I saw when I climbed the stairs of heaven and they weren’t moss green.
They were oceanic.
A blue so vivid, you felt like you were in the Mediterranean, drowning in crystal waters. You never fought the current though, because to die by those eyes, was to die in a paradise so true, you’d give anything just to catch a glimpse.
These boys were nothing but vessels. Faceless vessels I used to my advantage.
I could detach, remove all emotion and see nothing other than the cock I was riding or the fingers I was fucking. I needed a release, I needed change and I needed him.
Only he was an impossibility to me.
I tightened my hold, brown eyes cold and disengaged and I knew that was what Erik saw when he gazed up at me. A weak smile on his lips as he tried to enjoy the infliction I had brought to this encounter. His lips tinged blue first, then that hue feathered out to his cheeks. Those dark green eyes grew wider and wider as my grip strengthened to the point my hands white-knuckled and my entire body shook, all the way up until my orgasm tore through me.
I cried out, throwing my head forward as the muscles in my face fell slack. My mouth opened, a silent scream caught in my throat as I clenched my eyes shut and wondered what he would look like now…
The boy that I loved and never got to watch grow.
My heart ached and the second that pain ebbed, I cut that thread before it had a chance to weave. Catching my breath, I sat back and sank into him further. He groaned and I let go of his throat, stroking it softly. Soothing the red marks that would later turn into wicked bruises. Watching him, somber and calm, I gauged the unfettered devotion this little mouse had to me.
I could do anything to him, and still, he’d smile and ask me for more.
