Page 73 of Madness

As I paint the second rose, I can’t help but feel a thrill run through me, wetness blooming between my legs.

This is what I needed – what keeps me sane in Wonderland where I don’t belong… have never belonged.

The blood, the pain, and the beauty of the crimson liquid have me wanting to paint the mural on my wall again.

“More,” I breathe, my voice husky with desire, “I need them all to be red.”

Al nods, his fingers squeezing the skin around the cut and smearing the blood across the petals messily.

The room seems to blur around me. The only thing that matters is the flowers becoming red, and Al.

“Red.” Al’s voice breaks through my trance, his hand reaching out to touch mine, “Look at me.”

I meet his gaze, seeing the same hunger in his eyes that I feel in my own. Without a word, I lean in, my lips brushing against his in a soft, almost reverent kiss. The taste of blood mingles with our saliva, making the feel of him on me even more intoxicating.

“Do you feel it?” I ask when we finally pull away, my voice barely above a whisper, terrified to break the trance we both are in.

“Yes.”

His hand slides down to my waist, pulling me closer and kissing me again, this time with more urgency.

Our bodies press together, the heat between us almost unbearable. I can feel his arousal against my thigh, and I know he can feel how wet I am for him.

“Bed.” I manage to gasp out between kisses, “We need to move to the bed.”

Al nods, his hand gripping my hips as he guides me towards the bed in the corner of the room, tearing the remaining clothes from our bodies as we go.

We fall onto it, the mattress creaking under our weight. He pins me down, his body heavy on top of mine, and I can feel the blood from our cuts mingling as we press together.

“Red.” His lips trail down my neck, “I want you… I need you.”

“Then take me,” I reply, arching my back to meet his thrusts, “Take me, Al.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, his hands roaming over my body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin.

I moan as his fingers find my nipples, pinching and twisting them until I’m gasping for breath.

“Please.” I beg, my legs wrapping around his waist, “Please, Al.”

He positions himself at my entrance, his cock hard and ready. With one swift movement, he pushes inside of me, filling me completely. Igrasp his arm tightly, and we both cry out, the pleasure and pain blending together.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hips bucking, “You feel so fucking good, Red.”

I dig my nails into his back, urging him on. “Don’t stop.” I pant. “Don’t you dare stop.”

His thrusts grow harder, faster, each one driving me closer to the edge. I can feel my orgasm building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside of me.

“Al!” I scream, my body arching off the bed as I come, “I’m coming!”

Al follows right after, his release spilling into me as he collapses on top of me, our breathing ragged and uneven.

“That was… incredible,” Al says, resting his head against my shoulder.

“Yeah,” I agree, “It was.”

We lay there in silence for a while, and the only sound was the hum of the light above me and the other patients in the ward. Finally, Al lifts his head, his blue eyes meeting mine, “What now?”

I smile, running my fingers through his hair. “Now, we finish painting the roses.”

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