I wanted to ask if she was okay, but there was too much energy coursing through me. I quickly slashed another line to match down the other side, feeling that strange relief flow through me. She screamed again, breathing heavily as the blood ran down the sides of her back, pooling on the sheets. Such a shame to ruin such an expensive set but that was a minor price to pay.
“Do you want me to stop?” I murmured as I thrust my wet fingers into her ass and she tightened around me like a vise. “Or should I keep going?”
She took a shaky breath in and out. “Keep going.” Despite the obvious pain she was in, she was determined. Stubborn.
I took the knife to her ass cheeks and slowly drew the blade across her skin until it sank in with a satisfying give. It took a second for the blood to rise, and then it was flowing hot and fast down the hills. I lowered my head and licked the blood off of her, the sharp taste of copper and salt satisfying some sort of vampire-ish thirst. When I had lapped up as much as I could, her body tensing now from desire, I moved my tongue inward, where it was sweeter, where it was all her.
A moan rippled through her body and she pushed herself back into me, wanting more. I would give her more. I always did.
I devoured her, every inch, my mouth filling with her desire. I swallowed it deep, wanting to drown in it, remembering how much I missed this, missed her. Her taste was incomparable, the feel of her cunt and her ass beneath my tongue, between my lips, was a drug like no other. In that moment, I could have spent the rest of my life with my face between her folds, just taking in everything that was left of her.
I ended up nipping her clit, hard, between my teeth.
She cried out in surprise, in pain, then in pleasure as I licked the hurt away and she relaxed back into me.
Her breathing became shallow, her skin hotter. She was swelling beneath my touch. She was about to come. I pulled back, gasping for breath and quickly positioned myself. I hadn’t meant to go inside her. Being inside Luisa was something I thought of as too much of a risk. The feelings she would bring me.
But at that moment I didn’t care.
And when she called out my name, almost panting, “Javier, please,” then I really didn’t care.
I thrust into her, holding her hips in place, relishing how she felt, tight fucking silk. I moaned, my eyes rolling back into my head, a torrent of emotion beginning to swirl in my chest, something more than anger this time.
I swallowed it down and let out a hot breath as I slowly, agonizingly pulled back out of her.
“Is that what you wanted?” I asked her.
She nodded, breathless. “Yes, please.”
“You’re being very polite, my dear. I have a feeling you’re not asking for what you really want. You’re not quite … full enough, are you?”
Her head shook once.
I bit my lip until I tasted blood, anticipating what I was about to do. Then I picked up the knife and turned it around. I held the blade with my hands, delicately at first, and slid the plastic handle into her ass. She tensed up, and as I pushed it in deeper, my grip on the blade tightened and blood began to seep from my hands. I barely felt the cut, I only felt her around my cock, that soft, wet sanctuary.
I thrust into her, the knife handle and my equally hard dick, moving in unison as she welcomed it more and more. My movements became faster, I went deeper. I could barely hold on to her hips with one hand, too much blood was spilling from the other, making everything red and wet and hot. It looked like a massacre, and I felt I was losing much more than blood.
I came inside her, hard and long, and I only needed to flick her clit to get her to do the same. She moaned loud, beautiful music to my ears, threatening to undo me. She quaked and shuddered as the orgasm rocked through her, and for a wonderful second I imagined my seed sinking into her, finding purchase. The chance at a child.
But when desire and lust lost their footing and my heartbeat slowed and I was spent, my mind could think clearly again. I could dispose of those feelings that had the power to hurt me in the end.
Family was everything.
Family got you killed.
There would be no child.
There was barely a wife.
I looked down at Luisa, my blood spilled all over her back and mixing with her own. I pulled the knife out of her and shook the remaining drops on her rising back as she caught her breath. I ran my hand down her spine, smooth, blending our blood together. It was the best that I could do, it was the most of me that I could give.
I didn’t say anything to her as I got off the bed and went to the en suite bathroom. I washed my hands in the sink, the cut across my inner fingers not too deep, watching the water swirl down the drain, our blood together. Blood of family. Blood of marriage.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror and was glad to see a man I didn’t recognize staring back at me. You couldn’t take anything from this man. He had dead eyes.
When I emerged, she was standing naked, vulnerable, beautiful, the sheets and blankets piled at the foot of the bed, white splashed with feathering red. Our eyes met and I saw that need in them. She wanted me to come back to her. Maybe just to put her in the bathtub and wash the horror from her back, take care of her, like I always used to do.
I could only stare back at her, wishing she could see that this was all I had. That we were lucky it hadn’t taken a turn for the worse. That her wounds on her back would heal.
Even if the wounds in her heart would not.
She nodded once, reading the futility of it all. She was so good at that, seeing the truth. It made me wonder what she’d seen in me all along.