Page 45 of Apathy
I wanted to bottle it and carry it with me, because one emotion stronger than desire was always fear. It could drive us mad, but it could also drive us to things we didn’t know we wanted. And she wanted me.
She wanted a stranger, somebody unknown, to take her mind off of the things she was afraid of. Maybe she and I weren’t so different, after all. Maybe we both just wanted to forget.
I didn’t know what haunted her, but I knew what haunted me.
Their screams.
Their tears.
The smell of burning flesh.
My mother’s terrified face and the stoic look on my father as they dragged the blade over his throat, letting the blood flow over the white t-shirt he always wore to bed.
I gripped the hem of the thin blue shirt she wore and started lifting it up, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her stomach. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, but she couldn’t move her head with my other hand still on her throat. I felt her throat working beneath my hand as she swallowed, but she didn’t say a word as I started caressing her stomach.
“Your skin is so smooth,” I murmured, almost to myself. So smooth, so unlike mine, which was marred with scars too ugly for people to see. I wondered if she would be satisfied with the lies I would have to spew at her about the slashes on my back and the burn marks on my upper arm.
She kept her hands to the side, waiting to see what I was going to do, and all of a sudden, I wanted to feel her touch on me. I wanted to feel that same energy that zapped through me every time she touched me. Back in the school hallway, when I stopped her from walking into that sign, I almost did nothing, but something inside of me didn’t want to see her on the floor.
The only person she would be kneeling for would be me.
“Ash,” she moaned when I brushed the underside of her breast, awakening the chills all over her skin. “I don’t want to wait. Please.”
“Hmm.” I turned her around, pulling her legs around my waist and lifted her up. We were suddenly face-to-face, and I could almost taste the sweet venom she carried on her lips.
Like poison ivy, she could be the end of me with just one kiss. But no matter what, I wanted to taste her, to drink the poison from her cherry lips, to bite every inch of her, to hear her screams and my name on her lips as we both plunged into sweet oblivion.
Rational thoughts weren’t with me anymore, and like a starved man, I dove, capturing her lips with mine, seeking entrance. I didn’t have to fight her for too long because she already gave up this battle. She wanted this as much as I did, if not even more, and I wondered if she would feel the same if she knew the truth.
Would she look at me with the same fire, with the same need if she knew that she was just another pawn in this game of life, and I was the main player? Would she feel the same if she knew that she wasn’t the queen on my chessboard and she never would be? She couldn’t, because I would never forgive myself if I betrayed my parents like that.
I wrapped my arms around her, pressing her to me, letting her grind on my aching dick threatening to burst from my pants. God, this was both painful and exciting. With her hands around my neck, she started dipping them underneath my shirt, and I could feel her nails as she scraped them over my skin, no doubt leaving marks.
Marks over the other scars I had from the ones that had the same blood rushing through their veins like she did. Scars that would always be a reminder of who I was and what I needed to do.
But for tonight… Tonight, she wasn’t a Blackwood, and I wasn’t a Crowell. Tonight, I would lock down the sinister thoughts I learned to live with, and I would surrender myself to the minx in my arms, letting her pull my shirt over my head, leaving me exposed to her.
She locked her ankles around my waist and did something I never would’ve expected her to do.
Skylar started caressing my hair, then my face, her feathery touches igniting the sleeping volcano in my soul. She was setting fire to my skin, and she didn’t even know. I let her.
Lifting the bottle from the ground, she uncapped it and pressed it to my lips, slowly lifting it up. As soon as my lips closed around the rim, a soft smile touched her lips, but the wicked gleam in her eyes told me that there was nothing soft in her.
As soon as I gulped down the hefty amount of vodka, letting it burn through my throat, all the way to my stomach, she did the same, lifting it to her own lips, all the while looking at me.
“Sky—”
“My turn.” She grinned and placed the bottle on the ground.
She tasted like vodka and sin when she placed her lips on mine. I let her have control for a minute or two, but I wasn’t a patient guy, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I gripped the back of her neck and with my other hand, I started unbuttoning her pants. My fingers grazed her stomach before diving in deeper until I brushed the edge of her panties.
I swallowed her moans, her pleas, her cries, and pushed her to the ground, depriving her of my lips. She started protesting, but she didn’t get too far. I gripped her pants and started dragging them over her hips, feeling her shivering body, both from nerves and anticipation.
Her panties followed, and I could see her arousal glistening on her bare pussy, calling out to me. Like a man possessed, I didn’t wait before I spread her legs further and dove, lapping at her clitoris. She moaned and arched from the ground, and when I entered her with two fingers, she screamed, creating the perfect symphony in my ears.
“Ash!”
My tongue ran circles from her clit to her opening, lapping at her juices, loving the smell of her. I pressed my other hand to her stomach, keeping her down as she started thrashing on the ground, moaning my name, begging, and screaming for a release.
