Page 9 of Make Me Scream (Visceral #2)

PERIS

It burns, the cinching heat surrounding me from every angle.

I hate it as much as I crave it, the fiery ache—it reminds me of Abel and his touch alone. But it also reminds me of Luke… his touch and what he’s done and what it means for who I am now.

The worst part is not knowing if he’s the reason or if I was always meant to be this way.

But either way, I find myself gravitating toward it—the circle of destruction, the pit of tar I know I’ll drown in. It feels too good to stay away.

I wake to the sound of my hoarse screaming, just like many other times. My throat is raw and burning, and I cough, hacking wildly, but I’m unable to sit up. I’m frozen on my back, forced to stare up at the white, textured ceiling, still feeling every fucking touch, from every memory—fresh and old.

My heart is thrashing, attempting to slice its way through my sternum to no avail. Every nerve ending is a live wire, set to reignite with every brush of the air against my over-sensitized skin.

I’m burning from the inside out. Paralyzed by Luke’s haunted touch on my body, aching with Abel’s new, evocative graze scorching a new pathway across my flesh.

It takes endless minutes for my heart rate to eventually slow into a normal beat, and I can hear the sound of the wind outside over the chug of my heart in my chest and the pathetic panting of my breath as I retch.

“Sleep paralysis is a whole other demon, isn’t it?” Abel says from the corner of my room, and for some odd reason, I sort of expected it, like a part of me already knew he was there.

I can’t respond, so I just lie there, listening to our mingled breaths that surround us in the dark, pink light. Eventually, Abel’s steps draw closer, and my skin prickles with awareness, singeing as his fingertips draw patterns across my sweaty flesh.

His touch pains me, torments me.

A whisper escapes from between my parted lips, sweat trickling down my temples. Abel’s fingers follow its path, swiping it up readily and bringing it to his mouth. I watch his tongue dart out to lap up my perspiration before swallowing it down like the greedy boy he is.

“For some reason, a part of me always forgets how good your fear tastes.”

“Jesus Christ,” I croak, not having expected him to say something that fucked up. My groin coils at the prospect, dick twitching as blood starts to fill it.

It’s all part of the twisted little game we play. Abel finds just the right strings he created between us and tugs them just the right way.

Because I’m his perfect little marionette, and he’s my veiled puppet master.

Fuck…

“Just makes it taste that much better each time, I guess,” he rasps against my lips as he bends down to swipe his tongue over my mouth. I gasp at the heat of his tongue and part my lips to accept it into my mouth.

Abel delves in readily, tongue greedy and invasive as he licks every inch of my insides he can reach. My jaw aches from holding it open so wide, and I can barely breathe, but then, his hands are pressing against my chest, and his weight is pressing on top of me, and my breaths come a little easier.

“Breathe, Peri.”

“Fuck you,” I gasp the moment he pulls away, finally able to speak. I’m so fucking dizzy, I can’t think.

“Yeah.” He smirks, and I nearly roll my eyes at my Freudian slip. “Fuck me, baby.” He bends down and swipes his broad tongue across the side of my face.

My body comes back to me easily, each tingling limb moving where I want it to as I flip Abel onto his back. He gasps as he hits the mattress, limbs flailing. I pin his arms above his head by his wrists with one hand, using my other to tangle it into his unruly yet terribly soft hair.

“You want to be fucked?”

“By you?” he snarks, his pale face glowing the perfect shade of pink. “Always.”

My eye twitches at the smallest allusion to anyone else being anywhere near his fucking body. I tighten my hold on his wrists until I feel the bones creaking and grinding together.

“Awe, is someone feeling possessive?” he taunts, and my blood is on fire.

“I fucking hate you.”

He grinds his bony hips up into my aching cock, and I hiss. “Yeah. Feels like hatred.”

“That’s exactly what it is.” I spit in his face, and he smiles— until I reach down and grab onto his thighs as tightly as I can, effectively wiping every trace of the smile off his face.

“Oh, does that hurt?” I taunt him, pressing deeper into the burns he put into his flesh yesterday.

“F-fuck you,” he stutters, face darkening in pain.

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” I murmur against his neck, grazing my teeth along his pulse point, relishing in the way it flutters against my tongue, like it’s aching to get closer.

My hips gyrate, sending our cocks, covered only by thin layers of cloth, sliding together.

We groan simultaneously. Abel throws his head back while mine falls into the crook of his neck, and I breathe in everything he is—sour candies, cherries, and sweat.

It’s repugnant in its sweetness, but at the same time, my dick lurches, and I inhale deeper, needing moremoremore.

“Jesus fucking Christ, ” I moan, digging my thumbs into the hollows of his narrow hips, gritting my teeth at the burning friction but needing more.

“Oh, god, Peris, ” Abel whimpers, and fuck me, it goes straight to my balls. I stop grinding my hips into his with a hiss, hating the disconnect as much as I need it. Abel wriggles, hands clawing at the open air where I still have him pinned.

“What’re you doing?” he whines, head thrashing.

“Give me a fucking second,” I grind out through heaving breaths, willing my dick to calm down. Each pulsating beat is centered in my balls, throbbing so painfully good, I want nothing more than to let go—but not before I’m inside his tight pussy again.

I need it.

Abel giggles, eyes crinkling in the pink light, and when I meet his gaze, he smirks at me, too-full bottom lip captured between crooked teeth. What a little shit.

“Laugh it up, runt,” I mutter, reaching down and discarding my briefs and tugging on my balls to ensure a graze isn’t going to make me shoot my load. “You’re the one that’s going to be coming here in a minute.”

His brow arches. “A minute? That’s ambitious.” He licks his lips and thrusts his little cock in the air, as if to remind me it’s still there—as if I could ever fucking forget my…

Fuck.

Abel Silver was my gay awakening.

Well, that’s fucking fantastic.

I am never telling him that as long as I fucking live.

“You’re gonna fucking think ambitious, ” I mutter, feeling indignant as I rip his boxers off and lick a broad stripe up the front of his dick.

“Ohhh,” he moans noisily, and I’ve never been more glad Mom’s at work because Jesus, this boy is loud.

“Mmm,” I moan against him as I circle his glans, flicking my tongue around his slit. His precum soaks into my tongue, and I shudder at the bitter taste, pulling back slightly. I blink a few times, absorbing the taste before dipping back in for more.

Abel’s back arches, hands slapping down onto my head. I grunt at the impact as his fingers delve messily into my hair, yanking and tangling into the strands, guiding me this way and that, telling me without using his words what he likes and where he wants me.

Heat burns inside me for more than one reason.

Abel’s cock is in my mouth, and it’s so fucking hot and hard and wet.

But he knows what he likes and how to get it and I don’t like that.

My teeth clamp down of their own volition, and Abel’s screams are music to my ears. His flesh is oddly soft as I squeeze until I feel the veins running along his shaft pulsating against the tip of my tongue.

“Oh, fuck! What the fuck?! Peris!” Strands are ripped out of my skull as Abel tries to yank my head away from his dick. I keep my teeth locked in place—not tight enough to break skin, but more than enough to hurt, I’m sure—if his screams are anything to go by.

I glance up at his flushed face, made more pink by the glow of my alarm clock.

Sweat clings to his skin, his eyes wild and crazed as his chest heaves uncontrollably.

Tears spill from his long lashes, dripping down onto the bed below, staining my sheets and leaving traces of memories for me to reminisce on later.

“P-please,” he begs, loosening his grip as more tears spill over. They fall in such perfect succession. I feel my teeth loosen their grip so I can crawl up his body and trace the salty paths with my tongue.

Abel heaves out a breath of relief, but when my dick slides against his spit-slick one, he’s still hard, and that tells me all I need to know.

“Want me to fuck you, runt?”

“You’re the one that wants to fuck me,” he pants.

For some reason, that irks me. I reach down, skimming my fingers along his shaft and down to his balls, cupping them in my hand. His breath catches when I squeeze them, his eyes scrunching, but I move down to his taint and press hard.

Abel yelps. I smirk.

Bringing my fingers to my mouth, I drench them in spit, letting some drip on his face, before swiping them between his ass cheeks and circling his hole. It clenches repeatedly against the tips of my fingers.

I drop my face into the crook of his sweaty neck, lapping at his perspiration and feeling like a man dying. “Who wouldn’t wanna fuck this pussy, puppy?” I rasp.

“ Fuck. ”

“ Mmm, not today.” I graze my teeth along his pulse.

“W-what?” he stutters.

“Yeah. This is just for me, runt. Now spit.” I pull away from the solace of his throat and watch with rapt eyes as Abel turns his head to the left and spits in my palm, full lips pursing sweetly as he drags them across my hand.

“Good boy,” I rasp as I drag my hand along my shaft, getting it nice and wet. With a groan, I grip my base and angle my dick down between Abel’s spread legs. When my head nudges behind his balls, Abel gasps, eyes shooting open wide.

I smack the outside of his thigh, the resounding crack like a clap of thunder in the night. “Make it tight for me, runt.”

“Jesus,” he mutters, thighs shaking as he brings them together. He crosses his ankles at the base of my spine and arches his back, dragging his cock along my stomach. “ OH, fuck yes, ” he moans long and low.

“Damn.” I make an experimental rotation of my hips, and my eyes roll back into my head at how fucking tight it is. “Almost as tight as your pussy, pup,” I mutter.

“Don’t fucking insult me,” he growls, locking his thighs around my hips and thrusting up. Hands twine into my hair and yank, pulling my head down so Abel can slam our mouths together. It’s all teeth and tongue, violence and malice—all we are and all we could be.

We fight each other, a clash of brutality and ferocity, but the inferno igniting between us swarms through my veins, eating its way into my bloodstream until all I feel is the dark coil in my groin.

Abel’s breath is hot inside my mouth, spit slick as it mixes with my own and slides down my chin and neck.

His snaggletooth catches on my throat as he drags his lips downward in an attempt to catch his breath, bony little hips gyrating so fucking good that he finally sends me over the edge.

I delve my thumbs into the hollows of his bruised waist and pump my hips a few times, dickhead bumping against his taint just hard enough for my balls to draw up. My release pulses out and into the crack of his ass, soaking the hole of his wrinkled pussy.

“God!” he shrieks, silver eyes wide as he stares down our bodies, concaved stomach heaving as his small prick flexes against it.

I watch in wonder as he reaches for it, and the second his long, slender fingers wrap around his shaft, cum spurts from his slit and coats his pale skin in glistening globs, shooting far enough upward to nearly hit his collarbone.

I spread his cheeks with the tips of my fingers before squeezing them together and smearing my cum around, my eyes never straying from his stomach.

His dick slowly deflates, and as it does, my eyes catch on the smallest indents on the side of his shaft.

I smirk as I trace them with my fingers, making Abel hiss.

“You’re a fucking dick,” he groans, trying to smack my hand away. I snatch his and grind the bones together.

“Yeah, baby, so are you.”

His breath hitches, eyes widening, and I think the pink hue of the room fucks with his complextion because he looks less pale than usual… yeah, no, it’s probably because he just got off is why he’s flushed.

He looks away quicker than I would have liked, for some reason. “Yeah.”

I pull away, our bodies clammy and sticky. The room reeks of sweat and sex, humid with it. I flop down next to him, heart hammering for reasons I don’t want to elaborate on.

It’s quiet for a while, but my mind is surprisingly quiet, the remnants of my mixed nightmares long gone, and I find myself feeling grateful for the runt lying beside me.

“Thanks, pup,” I whisper into the darkness.

“Don’t fucking thank me, Peris,” he snaps rudely, and just as I’m about to yell back at him, he yanks my arm out and crawls into me and pulls it around him. I freeze, waiting for him to say something, do anything.

But it’s quiet, and before long, his breaths even out, and I’m left staring into the pinkened darkness, wondering what the fuck and when the fuck because what the fuck?