Twelve of Roses

He pulled my underwear down my legs and then spread them apart. With a careless shrug, he placed his face above my pussy and used his teeth to bite down on the string of my tampon, slowly pulling it out.

He didn’t care one way or another, telling me it gave him his ‘red wings.’ The bloody ball of cotton was tossed across the room, and then he leaned back down, making a quick swipe up the center of my pussy with his tongue.

“You know it’s only you, right? It’s always only going to be you.”

He climbed over me to get settled between my legs, hooking them over his shoulders and bending them down until they were almost touching my chest. He always said I was his number twelve, but the urge to kill never stopped even now after he’d completed his bouquet.

“I know,” I breathed out as he slid inside me.

He placed a hand between us and pressed down on my lower stomach, making me feel everything. He brought our bodies together, each thrust harder than the last. I could feel blood leaking down the crack of my ass and drenching his cock.

A wet sucking sound filled the air as he plunged in and out. I bit my lip, trying to silence the wanton sounds coming from my mouth.

He smiled wickedly, knowing exactly why I was doing it.

He knew I pretended to hate him for Molly’s sake. The truth was, I adored a man I should have despised with every fiber of my being.

“Still trying to pretend you don’t like it when I fuck you?” His voice went low as he pulled completely out of my pussy and slammed back in.

His hand slid lower, and his fingers found their way to my clit. He pounded into me, destroying my resolve with every thrust. My legs began to shake, and my body trembled beneath him. I tossed my head to the side when the climax overcame me, trying to muffle my screams in the bed pillows. I grabbed his forearms and dug my nails into his flesh.

Neither of us was gentle with the other. The tiny string of self-restraint had snapped long ago. Pain and pleasure were an intoxicating drug, and I kept overdosing on him.

“You crazy bitch.” He laughed affectionately, leaning down to capture my mouth.

He bit down on my lower lip until tears burned in my eyes and I tasted blood. When the muscles in his chest tightened and his cock swelled, I reached around and grabbed his perfect ass, pulling him as far into me as I could.

“You’re fucking addictive,” he mumbled against my lips, reluctantly pulling out of me.

My legs no longer felt attached to my body and simply fell back together. Con stood up and stared down at me like he always did. He looked at me like I was worth something. Despite the pain he sometimes caused me, I knew he would never kill me.

Not when he looked at me the way he did. Not when he went out of his way to kill other girls instead. Did it make me selfish for being happy it was them and not me?

Was it wrong to evade and mock death every time it came for me?

Shouldn’t I have opted for that instead of living and loving someone so violent? A man who killed without remorse?

“Come here,” he commanded in a gruff voice, going to stand at the edge of the bed.

I shifted around until I was on my knees and crawled through our crimson mess on the blue sheets to reach him.

“You know how much I love you.” It was a statement, not a question. It was never poised as a question when we both knew how the other felt. He gripped the back of my head and pushed down until his flaccid cock was in my face.

“You’re going to suck until I’m hard again,” he explained.

I slowly opened my mouth and took him all the way in. I grabbed the sticky, blood tinged base, beginning to stroke up and down as I pulled away to suck his balls, gently rolling them with my tongue.

He let me play with them for a few minutes before roughly pulling me away to shove his dick back in my mouth. It didn’t take long before he was pistoning his hips and fucking my face.

“Rosie.” He moaned my name and his leg muscles tensed. His cum coated my tongue, mixing with the taste of me.

He pulled me up and wrapped his arms around me, crushing us together. I could hear his heart beating just as fast as mine was. Nothing else mattered in that moment but us. Not Justin, who was downstairs playing a video game, or Molly, who had thrown up and cried herself to sleep. And not Vicky, wherever the hell she went.