Page 16 of Burn (Two Wheeled Psychos #2)

“What are you doing?”

Phoenix asks, her eyes darting between my face and the disposable lighter in my hand.

We’re both sitting on her bed, still naked from the shower. Our wet clothes are long forgotten on the bathroom floor down the hall. The feeling of contentment and ease just being together in the nude is nothing I’ve ever felt before. Like I don’t need to cover up, to hide, to worry about what she thinks. I know she sees me, the real me, even if it’s not all of me. But that part she can’t see with her eyes. He’s buried too far inside.

“I want to warm you up. Do you trust me?”

I say, eyeballing her and the fear that washes over her beautiful face, while I flick the flint.

“Last time you had a lighter in your hand we burned a body.”

“Are you afraid I’m going to burn you?”

“Are you?”

She asks, her hand reaching out but missing the lighter when I pull it back from her with a quiet tsking, and a wag of my finger.

“Maybe a little.”

I chuckle, shrugging my shoulders.

“But you’ll like it. I promise.”

Watching her pull the crisp white sheet in front of her body and chew at her bottom lip in suspense is so cute. She gnaws on it, her dark eyes burning holes into my hand, her fingers twitching and tangling amongst themselves. It’s all such a nice part of the game. If she wants me to hurt her, which I know she does, I will. I’ll enjoy it immensely.

“Why?”

“It’ll make both of us happy.”

I say, flicking the lighter again, this time lighting the flame. It jumps from the metal tip, flickering and dancing like a belly dancer, gyrating in the slight draft of her room. She’s watching it, mesmerized, her glassy eyes showing the reflection of the blue and orange threat.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

She trembles slightly as I lean in closer to her, bending over my crossed legs to grab the back of her head with my free hand, yet she allows me to guide her face to mine and kiss her lips softly. It takes a few moments for her to relax and lean into me, our faces pressed together, my hand massaging her scalp while I murmur sweet sounds against her mouth.

“I trust you.”

She whispers, her soft tongue peeking out, licking my lips, begging for entrance.

It’s like a switch being flipped in me. Her acceptance, and the offering of herself to me is what I want. I want her to please me and let me please her in the ways that only I can. It drives me wild, and I tighten my hold on her hair and devour her mouth with a passion I never knew I had in me.

It's all-encompassing kissing her, taking her soul from her with my inhales, and giving her mine as I breathe into her warm mouth. I can feel my cock thumping between my thighs, wanting her, needing her again like she’s a drug, an addiction.

When I’m with her, my flesh touching hers, he’s quiet. As if she was my heroin, she numbs me to the point where the voice is silent, but she also makes me feel alive in other ways. I can see now, as I feast on her, how people become addicts.

“I need you.”

I purr, pulling from the kiss to nibble her jaw, then neck, sliding my hand down to her nape and yanking her closer to me, making her gasp.

“Zeph.”

“Yeah baby?”

“Do it.”

“I plan on it. Patience baby.”

I say, licking and kissing her skin, sucking on her flesh, tasting the coppery tang on the marks I’ve already left behind.

Pulling the sheet out from between us, I lay her down more gently than I want, but she needs to trust me if she’s going to let me put the flame to her flesh. She settles onto her back, her legs dropping open, and I rest myself between them, still kissing and suckling on her throat, making her mewl in pleasure.

Her hands tangle in my hair, her fingers scratching my scalp as I tantalize every inch of her neck, shoulder, and collar bone. She’s so responsive, her body undulating under me, her hands flexing, and her chest rising and falling faster with her heavier breaths.

The feeling of her nipples grazing my bare chest calls for me to move my mouth down. I want to taste them, to suck them into my mouth and to bite them. I need her to moan when I flick them with the tip of my tongue then suck them deep into my mouth. She’s such a good girl for me, rising her chest up, offering them to my hungry mouth, letting me wrap my tongue around her little nubs.

I kiss my way down further, sliding lower, my lips and tongue tasting her belly, sucking her skin into my mouth, making her writhe and pull at my hair harder until I hear her knuckles crack from her tight grip. The tug on my hair eggs me on, and I wiggle my hips until I’m down to her pussy, my nose buried in it, inhaling her fresh from the shower scent.

She smells of sweet desire and the floral notes of her body wash. It’s so pure, clean, and angelic as I flatten my tongue and lick up her slit, from her puckered little asshole to her hard clit, then back down again.

“Oh God.”

She moans, lifting her hips, offering herself to me as I press down on her legs, opening her more.

The lighter brushes her inner thigh, and she jumps a little at the contact of the cold plastic and metal, yet she doesn’t stop me, instead she melts into the mattress more, letting me eat her like the hungry beast I am. I lick up and down, spreading her lips with my tongue, and probe as deeply as I can into her, tasting her, reveling in her sweet and musky flavor. She’s divine, giving me everything she has, making my eyes roll back in my head.

The wet sounds of my mouth on her smooth cunt make my dick ache and pulse more, begging to be inside of her again already. First though, she needs to feel the heat that I promised.

She tenses when the lighter clicks, the flint rolling quickly, the gas escaping the tip. It lights in my hand, and I bring it close to her inner thigh, letting the side of the flame gently brush her skin. It’s enough to warm her, but not burn, and she moans in a surprised pleasure that makes my cock drip for her.

I let the flame go out, and lick over the heated area of her skin, feeling the remnants of the fire on the surface of my tongue.

“Zeph.”

She purrs, her voice low and throaty. “Again.”

“Yes, princess.”

I moan, still licking and kissing the flesh until it’s pink from my attention. Lifting myself up, sitting between her spread legs, I watch as she props herself up on her elbows, wanting to see.

“Ut uh, baby, close your eyes and just feel.”

With a breathy sigh she listens and closes those dark eyes of hers, leaning back on her hands, dropping her thighs more, resigning herself completely to me and my flame.

I spin the flint again, watching the small fire ignite. It reaches for her, wanting to touch her, and I allow it to. It brushes against the wet spot, the edge of it licking her dampness, leaving little black lines on her. It’s fucking stunning watching it mark her, heat her, burn her, and turn her on even more.

Her pussy is dripping, begging for more of what I can do to her. She’s silently begging me to take her, to make her mine even more than I already have. My perfect angel is sinning for me, and I love it.

I wave the flame back and forth, making little tufts of black smoke waft over her, careful not to actually burn her more than she can handle. It’s mesmerizing, the way it licks her, tasting her just as I have. The fire is me, and I am it.

Press harder. Burn her!

The erotic peacefulness is shattered with him returning. His words shake me, shocking me, and I drop the lighter from my hand on a deep gasp.

“No, no, no, no.”

I say, pulling my hands away from her, cupping my ears to block him out but it’s no use. He’s not outside my head, he’s inside.

She’s a whore just like all of them. Look at her begging you to hurt her. Filthy whore! Burn her!

Rocking back on my heels, I close my eyes and shake my head, fighting him, not wanting to listen to him. I can’t listen to him. I will not hurt her more than she wants me to.

“Zeph?”

Phoenix’s voice sounds to me all confused and scared.

“Zeph, what’s wrong?”

She scrambles up, coming to me on her knees, making the mattress dip under us, moving my body enough I have to open my eyes so I don’t fall. She’s right there, her nose to mine, her eyes peering into mine with utter concern.

“Phoenix, please back off.”

I growl, not worrying if I scare her. She needs to get away from me before I give in to him and the push he always gives me before I ‘work’.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

She asks, grabbing my hands, trying to pull them from my ears.

Do it. Pick up that lighter and burn her for good. Ruin her like the whore she is.

“No!”

I scream, launching myself backwards, falling from the foot of the bed, tumbling on the floor, rolling away from her and the object that I could hurt her with.

I need to get away from her, from him, from everything, even though I know I’ll never be free of him.

The sight of her pulling herself up, covering her front with the sheet as she tries to climb off the bed breaks me. She’s reaching out for the monster, that on the first night we met had planned to burn her too, and not in the gentle way I just have.

She comes for me, and I jump up, running down the hallway into the bathroom where my clothes lay in a heap on the floor. I need to get dressed, I need to leave, and I need to be far away from her. The door slams closed between us before she reaches me, breaking the sight and sound of her from my senses, and I collapse on the cold tile floor, my hands on my head, my eyes squeezed shut, and tears forming, threatening to fall for the first time since the night I became what I am.

It was a quiet night, and I was ten years old. The sounds of mom’s latest fuck boy drilling her into the bed on the other side of the wall from my room were silent. It was so peaceful that I could hear the rats behind the plaster, scurrying around, looking for food, starving as I was.

The only thing I could smell was the acidic odor of her black tar burning in the old metal spoon she kept in her bra like a fucking treasure. Why she heated it before shoving it in her veins was weird and beyond me, but whatever. She was fucking weird, at least she became that way after the drugs fried her last living brain cell.

As I drifted off to sleep, my stomach grumbling from days without anything in it except my own spit, the serenity of the night was broken. The scent in my nostrils of sizzling heroin turned deeper, hotter, and thicker. It was smoke. Black smoke wafted in under my closed door, then sucked itself back out, like a snake’s tongue flicking in and out of its mouth, tasting the air.

My old bed creaked as I climbed off it, my little bare feet feeling the unusual warmth of the wooden floor under them as I slowly walked to the door and reached out for the knob. It was hot to the touch, and it burned my hand, yet I still tried to turn it, finding it locked, as always.

All those fantasies of people burning alive, and that’s how I’m going to die.

“Well, come on and take me!”

I screamed at the smoke as it puffed in and out at my toes, heating the knob more, creaking against the door.

The screeching of the sirens pulling up outside were nothing compared to the sounds of the fire trying to bust down my door. It hissed and screamed as the wood turned black and bowed inwards. I backed away from it on instinct, but it did nothing to protect me when the barrier broke away and the flames flew in.

“No!”

The one pained and panicked word from me was all I got out before the large man in a yellow suit with a mask on his face burst into the room and grabbed me.

With a shattering of the lead glass, he busted out the window behind me with an axe and threw us from the empty hole in the wall to the hard sidewalk below as he shouted to me.

“I’ve got you little man.”