Page 38 of Cruel Delights
Just as I’m toying with myself and finding a motion that makes me shudder with the beginnings of pleasure, it’s over.
Grady groans, pumps a couple more times, and then comes in the condom. He wipes his brow with a satisfied breath and then drops beside me.
He’s out within minutes.
It’s nothing new. In fact, it’sdéjà vu.
The ending to most of our encounters. As Grady snores at my side, I spend a few minutes getting myself off.
My orgasm is a small blip on the radar. My body gives a tremor and a feeble wave of pleasure passes over me, and then it’s over.
A fitting end to a crappy, disappointing night. Sighing, I roll over onto my side, facing away from Grady, and urge myself to go to sleep.
Better luck tomorrow.
10Kaden
Kill of the Night - Gin Wigmore
Lyra was more upset with me than she was her junkie loser of an ex-boyfriend. The image of her folding her arms and glaring up at me, the purple hue of the bar tinted in her eyes, is something I replay in my head several times.
She’d looked at me as thoughIwere the problem.
Not the junkie loser harassing her.
The best course of action was to back off. She felt I had come on too strong in too short an amount of time. She’s the type to need space.
I said I was leaving, though I never did.
I’ve sat half a block down from the Velvet Piano the entire time.
As Lyra and the others closed up, I lurked from within the confines of my Tesla and watched her walk toward the subway. The thought crossed my mind to follow her, do as I’ve done before, and ride with her.
Walk behind her the entire way home. Unbeknownst to her. I’d be an unseen shadow in the night.
The urges are too strong. My bloodlust is leaking into my external facade in such a manner I’m not sure I can control myself much longer. It’s in the tension twined inside my body and the hunger aching in my stomach. My tongue itching for a taste of violence.
The monster clawing to be set free.
It’s for the best I didn’t follow Lyra home tonight. I may have done something reckless.
I wouldn’t be the only one. Recklessness is a running theme of the night.
As I sit in the dark shadows of my Tesla, I decide to open up the app for the spy cameras I’ve set up in her bedroom.
Lyra’s foolishly allowed that junkie loser into the apartment. She’s invited him into her room, sitting beside him as he prattles on and on about his stupid problems. I grit my teeth glaring at my phone screen.
How can she not see where this will lead? Does she know and simply not care?
He’s hardly subtle. He leeches off her marijuana and then waits until he can catch her by surprise.
My grip on my phone tightens and I sit up straighter, half a second away from starting the car and speeding over. From busting down her bedroom door and wrenching him off her.
Then she goes with it.
She lets him kiss her and push her back against the pillows. She allows the useless loser to undo his pants and slide off her panties. I’m seething, shaking with near-blinding rage by the time he’s inside her.
A few times she tries to engage him with a kiss, but he’s lost in his own world of weak pumps and throaty groans. He has no clue what the fuck he’s doing. He touches her all wrong; I know this without ever having touched her myself.