Page 39 of A Taste Of Truth
Time.
“What makes you fight, little Alice?”
“Fight? I suppose I’ve had to. There’s no one left to do it for me.” Her hands land in my hair, softly touching and running through it, and before I know it I’m sighing again. “Who do you fight for, Malachi? Who fights for you? Is that what you’re missing?”
I don’t know. I never have. Faith once, but that was long ago, and the only thing she fought for back then was matching me, manipulating me. She was good at it. Persuasive to a young man with too much money and nothing worth living for other than that wealth.
Another sigh, another roll of my lips over something that seems overwhelmed with morality and strength. “I’m so fucking tired, Alice.” The hands in my hair tighten, one of them going to my chin. She lifts it and pulls me up to her, her legs wrapping around my back and sloshing water around. I like the feel of it, like the sense of her binding into me – around me.
“Then sleep.” I nod, enjoying the thought of sleeping with her again. “Now. Don’t think, just sleep.” I smile lightly at her forthright tone and lift her, my legs walking us straight to the bedroom. Sleep is good. It’ll work. Help me make sense of things. Maybe then I can answer questions about why I choose to need an end to this life.
She slides down my body and lets go gently, only one hand still attached to me. “Come on, sleep.” The mass of covers get pulled back and she keeps tugging me towards them, a loose grin on her face. “Who’d have thought a big ass man like you would need telling what to do.” My brow arches. “Sleep until you can’t sleep anymore, Malachi. We’ll talk tomorrow. Or tonight. Or whenever.”
I follow her into them until we’re side by side, fascinated with the way her frame seems to fill the space. It isn’t until she starts sliding close to me that I acknowledge that I’m far less interested in sleeping than I am in fucking her again..
She chuckles and slides her fingers all over my legs, inches from my dick. “Sometimes, a release helps alleviate tension,” she says. I watch her moving around me, still mesmerised by all her colours. “Maybe if you just lay back and relax, try not thinking, we’ll get somewhere with each other.” She looks up at me, licks her lips.
My hand catches her chin, eyes focused on her mouth. “Don’t fuck around with it. Suck it deep. I want to feel you choking on me.” She frowns, then moves until she’s hovering her head above my dick and still looking at me. “This will hurt you again, Alice. There’s a truth for you.”
The sense of unwavering belonging that courses through me the second she takes me inside her mouth is fucking profound. I swallow and reach my hand for her head to push her further, fingers grasping her hair. I needn’t bother. She’s taking me so far down her throat I’m barely able to tell if it’s reality around me or not.
My eyes close, hand releasing her, and I give in rather than try to control anything. Long strokes, deep and fucking mesmeric. There’s a rhythm to them, a cadence that only she produces. I can smell her, sense that goddamn connection that makes this more real than anything has ever been.
“Fuck,” I grunt, moving her head. Everything starts tensing around her mouth. Hands, muscles, legs. Even my chest seems locked in some inability to breathe, as if it’s giving up trying. All I can see is her head on me, her lips wrapped around my dick and her painted body moving seamlessly in the dark air. I don’t even know why she offered this, nor do I care at the moment. I just brace, fingers tight in the sheets, and let her suck so hard the life feels like it’s draining out of me.
My tongue whets my lips, mouth open under the pressure, and I buckle as she keeps drawing up and down me. “Good girl. Suck harder, Alice. Own that cum you’re after.”
Hands reaching for her head again, I hold her firmly and start using her to begin releasing it all into her throat. Spasms rack through me, as I listen to her gagging around me. She grunts and stays still in my grasp, not trying to get away from it at all. I can feel her try swallowing, feel the pinch against me as she keeps taking everything I’m fucking into her.
My own groan sounds loudly, body turning so I can get better leverage and fuck harder. A whimper comes from her at the sudden ferocity in my fingers, and her frame starts fighting for air. She’s not getting any, not until all this is out of me and into her. It’s a marking now, just like last time, a sense of ownership pouring out of me into her.
No discussions about it, no why’s, and no arguments either.
I fuck, and she takes it.
The eventual last ebb of cum that flows through me makes me hold her in place and drag my dick out slowly. Cum leaks out with it, as she chokes and spits. It’s the nicest damn vision I’ve ever seen in my life, and I watch on, a frown on my face, as another cough rips out of her.
She pants and lays there, spittle and cum running from her lips. No movement other than that. No fight to get away from the hands still pinning her down. She just pants and quivers, still trying to swallow everything down.
My frown eases, as do my hands, and she eventually starts breathing normally and stares at me. Wide eyes, trembling lips. Tears that stain and drip downwards along her cheeks.
“I don’t like these,” slips from my lips, as I wipe the tears away. “Not today.”
No answer. Not even a change in her features as she takes in that compliment. And it is one. I didn’t hold back, nor did I give a damn about her safety in the middle of that. I fucked her throat without remorse, part not caring if she made it through or not. That’s what I do, who I am. It’s what I’ve been for so long I can barely remember what I was before it. But now, and because of her, I do remember – reciprocation, care, and fascination even.
I move at the thought and lay back on the bed, eyes cast at the ceiling rather than her ravaged form. This is normality for me, regardless of being able to caress and tease when I want to. Fucking comes with pain attached to the recipient. I enjoy it, want it that way. Trying to pretend it could be any different is a fool’s errand into fairy tales. But regardless, she might have just taken something from me that no one else has done – my damned soul.
Chuckling lightly at the thought, I pull her towards me and shift her upwards until her legs are spread over my chest and she’s mere inches from my mouth. “Come closer, Alice.” She crawls a little more and rests her hands on my shoulders. “Closer. I want your cum on my tongue.” I don’t want barriers anymore. I want whatever this closeness is becoming.
My fingers find her scars again, the pads light across the raised areas hidden beneath twining vines and flowers. “I’m pissed I didn’t put these on you myself.” I am. I’d like to have marked her like this before he did, found a way to leave scars on virgin skin. These aren’t through pleasure, though. They’re deep and done with nothing but violence and aggression. “Did he rape you?”
She sighs a little, rolls her body under my touch. “No. He taunted me.” She shivers, looks at my fingers working their way over her. “He didn’t have any right. I made sure he paid for that.” Good little Alice. Strong and capable. Fierce and straightforward.
Her own hands linger on some of the cuts I caused, light touches fingering over the fine seams slit into her skin. “I want more than taunting, Malachi. I deserve it. I want real.”
Yes, she does.
I shift her further up to my mouth, and a sharp gasp sounds out from her. Moans and calls for more keep coming, as my tongue works inside her. My hands bite into her ass, holding her prone and exactly where I want her, as I keep sucking and licking. We’ll sleep when this is done. We’ll sleep, wake, repeat the same cycle of this new normalcy, and start searching again. What for, I don’t know, but this sin and wildfire and hot flowers and attitude that I can taste is mine. All mine for as long as I need it. There’s no middle ground now. There isn’t any to find between us. There is only lies and truths, the second of which seems perilously close to becoming real for once.