Serial: Volume Two (9 page)

She whipped her face back to me and winced when they showed her photo. “I can’t believe it…” she said and stared into my eyes, scanning me, looking for something.

Denial?

I saw acceptance in hers.

She knew who I was, what I was, and she had fear, but on some deeper, primitive level, she knew I was dangerous.

And danger made her pheromones rush through her body on overdrive.

I could smell her desire, her fear, it combined in a sharp tang that overwhelmed my senses and flipped a switch. In both of us. Fight or flight, and she chose flight.

She jumped up as I grabbed for her. I caught the back of her shirt and she hit the coffee table, knocking it over and sending the wineglasses spilling onto the floor.

They landed on the thick, white shag rug and exploded like blood stains, dual red splotches

I grabbed her by the throat and pulled her back to sit on my lap. My cock was rock hard and I didn’t bother trying to shield her from it. I pressed it into her ass, niceties were over. We were done pretending, we were taking this,
everything
, to the next level.

“Where are you gonna go,” I said in her ear. My voice was harsh and thick with my need. “Who’s gonna believe you? What will you say? Somebody like me saw somebody like you and just had to have you? When I could have my pick of any woman in the city? In the country?”

“I wasn’t trying to escape,” she said and whimpered as my hand tightened on her throat. “I need to think, I need to process this. If you are…”

“If I am what?” I said, demanding she finish her thought. I wanted her to say it, I could feel her body vibrating with fear and adrenaline, pure fucking energy and I wanted to possess it.

“If you are CK,” she said reluctantly, “then why me? Why am I alive?”

She surprised me, she sounded almost jealous that I’d taken the others and immortalized them.

Not surprising given the life I’d rescued her from. Anything would have been preferable to living in that shit hole with that fucking pig for a lover.

I loosened my grip and pulled her around. She straddled me, her skirt was pulled up to her hips and she slid forward until her hot V was pressed against my cock.

She wanted this. God, my brain was racing a million miles a minute, she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

“I think you know why I haven’t killed you,” I said and kissed her hard. I forced my tongue inside of her mouth, sliced through her pursed lips with the tip and pushed her own tongue down. I wanted her to know that I owned her, everything she was, everything she wanted, everything she had…it was all mine.

She moaned and leaned against me, folded her body against mine and ran her hands up my back.

I took a handful of her thick hair and pinned her head, held it in place. I encircled her tongue again and pulled back, bit her lip until she cried out from the pain.

“What are you doing?” she whispered against my lips. The heat from her breath was exquisite against my skin.

“What I should have done the first time I met you,” I replied and bit her again, this time on the cheek. She jumped and cried out, tried to pull back.

“Promise you won’t hurt me,” she whispered.

“I can’t promise anything,” I said and stood, carrying her with me.

She dropped to the floor and tried to pull back, “Please, Jude, don’t hurt me,” she reiterated.

I didn’t reply, I took her hand, pulled her back towards me and held her as I looked her in the eyes. They were wide, fearful, and lustful.

I grabbed her hair and dragged her with me when I turned and headed to my bedroom.

“Please,” she said and stumbled, “you’re hurting me.”

I couldn’t stop, I wouldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to destroy her and rebuild her from the inside out, tear her apart and lick her wounds with anxious care.

I was desperate to fuck her, feel her heat from deep between her legs, and lose myself inside of her.

I couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t be hurt. I had never done this before. Never kept one alive, one who brought up so much
need
inside of me, so much
want
.

“Jude,” she pleaded, as we moved down the hall, “promise me you won’t kill me. I don’t want to die.”

I stopped and pulled her up to look at me. “I’m not planning on killing you,” I said, “but I will probably hurt you. I apologize in advance for what I’m about to do.”

Her eyes rolled back in her head and she started to cry. I turned and dragged her behind me, but her body didn’t go limp, she was still stumbling to keep up.

Part of her still wanted this.

Not that it mattered at that point.

I kicked the door open and dragged her to my king sized bed. It was still rumpled from this morning, my luxurious sheets tangled and tossed aside. I really was terrible at looking after myself. It was ironic that I could clean up after a crime scene, but not my own surroundings.

“Jude,” she said, “can we take this slow?”

She was using my name to connect with me, I’m sure she’d heard about that on Oprah or something. Talk to your kidnapper, use their name, make them realize you are a real person.

I knew she was a real person, but above all she was Pet.

“Pet,” I replied, “this is happening. You can get into it and enjoy yourself, or you can struggle against me and get hurt.” I threw her on the bed, face first, and pushed myself on top of her. I bit her shoulder and felt her tense up underneath me as she gasped.

“I…I don’t know,” she replied, her voice muffled by the thick mattress cover, “I want…” her voice trailed off as I licked her neck, sucked on her ear and kissed her where my reddened bite mark now lay.

“You don’t know what?” I asked and pulled her hands behind her back, “you don’t know if you want my cock inside of you? Do you feel guilty for wanting it so bad? For wanting to fuck a killer?”

She moaned and nodded as much as she could, being face down in the sheets.

I slid down her and tugged the back of her shirt up, still holding her hands tightly against her ass in my grip.

I slid my tongue along the crease of her spine, running along the bumps and ridges. 

She shuddered and turned her head, sighed and made a mewling sound, like a little, trapped animal. The noise echoed in my head and spurred me on, brought the red, hot wave to the forefront.

I abruptly stood, left her hands together behind her back and said, “Don’t move an inch.”

I unbuckled my belt, pulled it out slowly and wrapped it around my hand. She was stiff on the bed, what a good girl, she hadn’t moved.

I looked down at her perfect, heart shaped ass and bent to push her skirt up over her hips again. She was wearing a delicate little red thong; I pulled it and tore at it. It fell away with one hard tug, and she groaned, wiggled slightly, but her hands remained clasped behind her back.

I rubbed her smooth, round ass and exhaled a trembling, controlled breath. My cock was aching, and I wanted to attack her, bite her and slash her, but I couldn’t.

This was one woman I didn’t want to immortalize. I didn’t want to freeze her in time, watch her life leak out, and her body stiffen as her light was extinguished.

I wanted to crash against her living body, keep her form fluid and changeable, rush into her, retreat, and repeat my constant, unending need to be inside of her, around her, beside her.

Love. I believed this was it.

I was in love.

Fuck.

I unzipped my pants, she made the smallest movement at the sound, a flinch of fear or excitement, it didn’t matter. I was too far-gone to care at this point.

I stepped out of them and stood behind her, my cock throbbing and my heart pounding, the blood rushing in my ear.

The room was silent but for that blood throbbing and rushing, cycling through my body endlessly, seeking escape.

I knelt behind her on the bed, she arched herself very subtly, and I shoved my knee in between her thighs to spread them farther apart.

She was panting, light, shallow breaths. I could see a sheen of sweat on her skin, and her hair looked almost damp.

She whimpered, a sharp sound in the silent room, it almost echoed off the walls and I was suddenly aware of the oppressive lack of sound.

“You greedy bitch,” I said, to break the silence, “you want this, don’t you?”

She nodded again and let out a little yelp when I smacked her ass.

I leaned forward and wrapped my belt around her neck, looped it through the buckle and pulled tight, drawing her head up off the sheets.

“Tell me you want it,” I commanded and jerked the belt.

“I do,” she said in a tiny little voice raw with emotion.

“I don’t believe you,” I said and jerked it again. She gasped, but was choked short by the belt.

“I want it,” she said, her voice growing in strength as she spoke, “I want you to fuck me, Jude, fuck me now.”

“You fucking slut,” I told her, one hand on my belt and the other on my cock. I looked down at her beautiful form, her body pulled back until her breath was rasping and her back curved up on itself almost painfully. “You beautiful, perfect, fucking slut.”

She groaned and nodded her head. She thrust herself up against me, spread her legs farther apart and exposed her perfect cunt to me.

I could smell her, sweet and earthy in my nostrils. I inhaled and positioned myself at her tight slit. This moment was intense, the highest I’d even been. All the girls I’d killed, the ones who had survived but had been cast aside after a one night stand…everything I’d done before this moment seemed meaningless.

Pet was the one, the girl I wanted to fuck and love and care for and keep alive.

I was trembling; the belt shook with my blended excitement and fear. I was terrified I would lose myself inside of her and wake up covered in her blood.

The brutality of my need frightened even me. But I wouldn’t stop; I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

And yes, you may have guessed, I did not ever want to stop.

I slid the head of my cock between her hot, swollen cunt lips and felt a full body tremor that shook her from the inside out. I pushed slowly, a precise dissection of her beautiful pussy.

I stabbed at her, mounted her, hit the end of her and pushed a little further. I wanted as much of Pet as I could possibly get. I wanted to assault her from the inside out and feel her writhe on the end of me.

I usually get off feeling their energy drain, watching their bodies still and become motionless.

With Pet I wanted to watch her move, wiggle, come to life and scream my name. Fuck. I wanted more from her, I wanted it all. All of her.

“Beautiful girl,” I said and slammed into her. Her head jerked as I hit, she gripped her hands and the belt tightened. I was a madman, lost in my throbbing frenzied fucking; I didn’t notice the moment she lost consciousness.

I didn’t notice as her body went slack, I was nearing completion, so I couldn’t have stopped even if it had registered. This seems to be a recurring theme in my life; I couldn’t stop even if I wanted.

Her hands loosened and fell to her sides and her body rocked against me as I plunged deep for one final moment.

I felt like I was scrambling to find purchase on her body, I held the belt twisted in my hand and my knuckles were white as I gripped it. It was my lifeline, the umbilicus that kept me grounded and tied to sanity.

I groaned and filled her cunt with hot cum. Base, animalistic, but it was what it was. Two imperfect bodies seeking something from each other in the midst of our fucked up world.

She sought safety, and I was seeking sanity from her.

It was a tall order, but I was certain my little Pet would be able to deliver.

I collapsed on top of her, unwinding my fingers from the leather belt and letting my cock slip from her soaked pussy.

It was then that I realized she wasn’t with me any longer.

She was unconscious. The belt had left a deep red indentation around her neck, her beautiful neck. Her head lolled to the side and her body flopped over when I pushed her from underneath me.

I reclined next to her, part of me hoping she was dead in order to escape this mad fucking indescribable obsession.

But of course most of me hoped beyond hope that she had survived my brutal expulsion of red heat.

“Pet,” I whispered and nudged her shoulder. She was turned away with her back to me. “Beauty, wake up.”

She moaned and sighed, rolled towards my voice and smiled. I smiled. It was all very Old Hollywood romance. Minus the belt. And the killing. And the kidnapping. Dammit.

“Are you okay?” I asked and surprised myself because I meant it. I genuinely wanted to make sure she was going to be healthy.

“What happened?” she asked and stretched. She rolled towards me and wedged herself between my arms. I folded them around her protectively.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered in her ear, and once again felt surprise at my authenticity. My realness. The legitimacy of my feelings almost made my eyes sting with unshed tears.

Almost.

“Why are you sorry,” she said and looked up at me from under her thick, luscious eyelashes.

“I almost hurt you,” I replied and kissed her forehead. My cock was hardening again, pressing against her thigh.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked and pulled back, a look of surprise firmly planted on her features. “That was insane. Epic. Hands down the craziest fucking orgasm I’ve ever had. I lost consciousness, how crazy is that?”

My heart matched my cock and swelled until all I could do was pin her down, slide her clothes off her body and fuck her again.

Afterwards we were both naked and curled against each other under the top sheet. She purred and wiggled against me, remarked at how soft the fabric was, luxuriated in the expensive surroundings.

She ran her hand up and down my forearm, touched each of my fingers and looked up at me. “It’s so crazy, all of this,” she said, “I still can’t believe you’re the one who saved me. And you’re the one who…you know, with those women. I should be running for the hills, but here I am.”

“Every woman adores a fascist,” I said and stared into her eyes, searching for some sign of deception. I saw nothing but the unexpected fire of realization. She knew I was a killer, that I killed for her…and she liked it.