Bait

My adrenaline is pumping.

My fist is too.

It’s enough.

More than enough.

My balls ache and tighten. My jaw is gritted hard.

I wonder if she’ll be ready for it when I catch her. I wonder if she’ll be ready for the way my body slams hers and steals her breath. Steals everything from her.

I wonder if she’ll beg me to stop.

Abigail.

A broken little bird.

It would’ve been so easy for her to lie, but she didn’t. I know she didn’t.

I feel it.

Her.

The strangest connection through nothing but text. Desperate and flawed.

Fucked up.

Two strangers circling each other’s darkness as our demons said hello.

I want to break her.

It’ll feel so good to fucking break her.

To punish her like I should have punished Mariana.

I want to pin her down and take her body until her soul finally stops running.

I want to force my way inside her, deep enough to make her scream. I want to pound her until she can’t breathe, until there’s nothing but me. All me. Only me.

Me, me, fucking me.

No sadness. No ghosts. No fucking regrets. Just my body inside hers.

I won’t let it be painless. I won’t let it be easy. And I won’t let it be quick, either.

I’ll hurt her until she thinks she’s been hurting forever, until she screams so much she can’t scream anymore.

Until she’s done.

Until she’s mine.

Fucking mine.

I hear the wetness of my dick in my hand. It’s slick. Hard.

Dangerous.

My cock is a fucking weapon. Mariana made it so – begged for it to be so.

But it’s not Mariana I want tonight. It’s Abigail.

Two weeks and her skin will feel every inch of mine. Two weeks until she’ll whimper and beg and scream for me. She can fight me with everything she’s got, but it won’t matter.

She’ll suffer for her salvation, just as I’ll suffer for mine, cursed with needs I can’t ignore. Needs no man should have. Mariana jacked me up and got me hooked, an addict to her filthy fetishes, damned to hunt like a beast in the darkness.

My hand tightens around my cock. The piercings ripple under my skin. I grip so hard it hurts, just like Abigail will.

Scared pussy always hurts so fucking bad.

Scared pussy always fights.

And scared pussy always tastes the best.

Forcing my way inside her will be fucking divine. Leaving marks on her pale skin will be divine.

Breaking her open will be my divine fucking pleasure.

And then, when she’s nothing but tatters on the floor, her face a mess of soil and tears, her pussy used and gaping. Raw. Exposed. Maybe then she’ll be broken enough to pick up the pieces.

And maybe I’ll be broken enough to pick up mine.

The catharsis is addictive. My breaths rough and shoulders braced as I stare into the black world outside.

The twinkling lights disappear as I slip into the abyss.

My cock is throbbing, the barbells hurting so fucking good.

I love the way my ridges feel against my fingers.

I love the way they’ll feel inside her cunt. I love the way they’ll hurt before they feel good.

I’ll make her come regardless, even if she doesn’t think she can. Even if her pussy cries in protest. Even if she hates how dirty it makes her feel.

I’ll make her feel so fucking dirty.

One night.

One wild night. Crazy night. Desperate night.

I tip my head back, stifling my grunts with Serena so close next door. My fist is frantic, brutal as I shunt my hips toward the glass.

Gonna leave my handprints over her pretty pale tits.

Gonna lick the tears from her cheeks.

Gonna make her beg me to stop.

Gonna hurt her so bad she won’t stop coming.

I grunt as my cock jerks. The first stream of cum jets onto the window glass.

And another, and another as I swear under my breath.

Gonna make her realise that beasts come after bait.

Gonna make her realise that meeting some stranger online was a stupid fucking mistake.

For both of us.AbigailI wake up late.

I sit upright as I fathom the unthinkable.

I slept through.

My breath is even. My pillows are dry.

My pussy…is…. not.

I’m soaking through my knickers. My thighs are clammy.

My clit tingles.

Fuck.

I reach for my phone. My email notifications show twenty-five unread messages. I scroll through them all, not giving a shit about any of them.

I scroll all the way until I see his picture, just to check he’s really real.

Phoenix Burning.

There it is. I breathe in relief.

His username suits him. He looks like he could set the world on fire.

Set me on fire.

My smile feels goofy and fucked up but I don’t care.

It’s one glimmer of hope in the darkness. One tiny glimpse at authenticity.

My soul soars from the ashes.

Phoenix.

The bird from the fire. The bird who rises from the flames.

My heart still feels like lead, but it’s beating.

And I want it to. For once, I want it to.

Two weeks.

I scroll back through our messages, my mind whirring at the sight of my confession in the cold light of day.