Lola is being a brat.
Her office is closed today. She wants me to stay home with her and I can’t, so she’s acting up.
First, it was pouting. Those soft lips of hers, tinted pink, puckering into a perfect little rosebud while her chin dimpled, and her Wedgewood blue eyes glittered with tears. She has this way of inclining her head and looking up at me through her dolly lashes. It looks innocent enough, but the way she pulls her arms in and leans forward so I follow the line of her eyes, to her pout, to her cleavage reveals it for what it is.
Manipulative little so-and-so. Every other time I’ve seen her pull that trick I’ve grabbed her and kissed her breathless, so why she thought it would work today is anybody’s guess. Continue reading “Oh, Lola”
Everything they had done in the last six weeks of their riotous lives had led to this moment. Every decision, every act of refusal, of defiance, every lie they’d told and every hardship they’d endured had brought them here. Here, where it would all come crashing down around them. Where they would meet their ruin.
Florian unknotted the leather thong that clung to Zinnia’s elegant throat. The silver key she had stolen from her father dropped into his palm and he tightened his fist around it, partly to protect it, partly in hatred. Continue reading “A Catastrophic Affair”
The woman lying in the bed I just slipped out of looks so peaceful. Full lips slightly parted, dark curls spilling over her forehead. Like most people, when she’s asleep – truly, completely asleep – she’s as still as the grave. She doesn’t stir as I pass through the door and float down the stairs. It doesn’t surprise me that she doesn’t notice, given that I move with absolute silence. That and the fact that she doesn’t believe I’m capable of leaving her side.
I pass through the front door, then the garden gate, ending up standing alone in the deserted street. What does surprise me is that she doesn’t feel me slipping away from her. My eyes flick to the window. Well, sometimes she feels it. Sometimes, instinct rips her from her slumber and she snaps on the light. That drags me, usually kicking and soundlessly screaming, right back to her side. Continue reading “We Are Shadows”
There’s an unnatural beat in my chest. A slow, deep, thud…thud…thud that reverberates behind my breastbone and makes my ribs shake. I feel heavy. My hips move in a languid figure eight making my short skirt fan the tops of my thighs with cool air. Sweat still trickles from the backs of my knees to my ankles, though. It makes my dress cling to the small of my back. The heat that had been belting down on me all day is now rising from the stone beneath my feet. Raising my temperature. Making me sticky and wet. Continue reading “His Dirty Rhythm”
She was a flame, divine
My pathic call of duty, irrefutable
Her eyes they paralyzed me, froze the flow of time
A glimpse so achingly beautiful
Verse from Achingly Beautiful from the album “Cryptorania” by Cradle of Filth
I’ve seen and done a lot in my short life. More than most people will see and do in a lifetime. But none of the happiness or sadness, joy, pain, or suffering I’ve experienced could have prepared me for this moment.
When I’d received the featherlight touch of her fingers – sheathed in black lace – on my shoulder… choosing me… I’d thought I was ready. But now, here, in the muted light of her candlelit crypt, I understand the enormity of my own arrogance.
I am not ready for Libertina.
But she is ready for me. Continue reading “Achingly Beautiful”
If anyone had told me a year ago that I’d ever come back to this town I’d have laughed in their face. I would have laughed hard and would still have been laughing when the dust kicked up by the screeching of my motorbike tyres billowed into their mouths to choke them.
You know what would have been even funnier than that? If someone had said the reason I’d come back would be Courtney. Continue reading “Taking My Own Advice”
If I was less drunk I might have been self-conscious about the headboard smacking off the wall. I might have made an effort to cover Adam’s mouth. And I would definitely have opted to wear a condom.
But, as being drunk goes, I’m probably the worst I’ve ever been, and I’m giving my date such a hard, bareback anal fucking the headboard has been knocking holes into plaster for going on half an hour. Adam’s been hollering ‘Oh God, fuck yes!’ so loudly I wouldn’t have been surprised if the Almighty descended from heaven in corporeal form, just to tell him to shut the fuck up. Continue reading “Awakening the Wet Dream”
I love giving you surprises. People are always saying, Sharon is so sweet, she’s always spoiling Tim. To a certain extent that’s true. I do love to spoil you. I love the look on your face when I hand you something you weren’t expecting, and I love how grateful you always are.
To be honest, I kind of feel bad about it when they say stuff like that. They make me out to be a gem of a woman when what I really am is selfish and cruel. See, I don’t give gifts to you for you. I give you gifts for me because, sometimes, I get whatever I want in return. Like I’m about to right now.
I’m sitting here open thighed at the top of your bed, watching a startled laugh make Gala apples out of your cheeks. You’re drinking me in. Your dazed eyes flick from crotchless knickers, to harness straps, to quarter cup bra and back again. I laugh when the ribbon-tied box you’re carrying misses the dresser and lands with a dull thud on the carpet, but you don’t even notice. Continue reading “Battle of Wills”
I’ve always considered myself to be a reasonable person. I never expect too much of people, never take advantage, and I pride myself on never showing jealousy. All my past partners have considered that a positive, but not you.
No, my rationality is one of the things you love to hate about me. It drives you crazy that I can watch you flirt with other women, that I can watch you dance with other men with nary an eyebrow raised in suspicion. You’ve even taken it as a personal challenge to do something to stir my green-eyed monster, a thing you’re convinced lives within all of us.
And each and every time you’ve failed…until now. Continue reading “The Scent of a Woman”
I was starting to think that insisting on going for a walk on my own so late at night was a bad idea. Snow had started to fall just as I’d stepped outside. It had come down in short, light sprinklings then, building on the drifts that had fallen over the past week, but now that I was too far from home it was quickly turning into a blizzard.
I could barely see beyond the end of my nose. The flakes were so big I could see their intricate patterns, each one as unique as the last. Beautiful, but given how thin my clothing was, deadly. Continue reading “Most Highly Favoured Lady”