Page 6 of Lamb

This was my version of that. Except there wasn’t the terror you’d expect to come along with it. Instead, there was a thrill that traveled to the apex of my thighs and settled there. I’d wanted this after all. Been dangling my virginity on a string hoping some poor fucker would be tempted enough to take a bite. Put the big black spot on my reputation that would offer me my freedom.

What I didn’t expect was it to happen in a back alley in the part of town wherelittle girls shouldn’t go walking alone, as Papa would tell me. Especially without their pocket knives, asIwould tellhim.

But I guess beggars couldn’t be choosers.

I just needed this guy to rough me up a bit first, to make it look believable. Which meant I had to find a way to get under his skin. Shouldn’t be hard to do, seeing as he had no problem peering into strangers’ windows in the middle of the night.

I mean, that was how most sexual deviants got their start, wasn’t it?

7

ADRIAN

She was testing my restraint, and something about that both annoyed and infatuated me. I lifted a brow without meaning to, the gesture causing a slight shift in my mask—it was the only reason I knew I was doing it in the first place. Until my glare dropped to the red streak raising the skin on the left side of her face.

I reached out a hand, rubbing my thumb over the line of blood that had caked and dried on her cheek. Fresh. Maybe thirty minutes old. A fact that then led me to question who the fuck else was with her in that room of hers. Because that mark sure as fuck wasn’t there before she yanked her curtains closed.

“Who?” I barked out the word, unable to articulate more than that as the irritation seeping into my voice threatened to spill over. “Who’ve you been sneaking around with, princess?”

I watched the way her pupils dilated for a second. A mixof fear and arousal before she shut her emotions down and glared back at me with a fire that shot straight to my cock, which was already in no mood to be teased.

Her lips curled into a grin as she brushed a hand along the waistband of my pants. Baiting me. Little did she know my mouth was already firmly wrapped around that hook, my willpower dangling on a string, my better sense just waiting to be filleted wide open.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she hummed.

“I want a name, Marisela,” I grunted.

“And I’ll give you one. After you give me yours.”

I pushed off the wall, attempting to walk away before I did somethingsheregretted andIfelt a tad less apathetic about later. I didn’t get more than a step when Marisela was tugging me back by a belt loop. Truth was, I wasn’t trying all that hard to leave, and we both knew it. My palms slammed down on the brick, inches above her head. So I was forced to look down at her while she dared to stare up at me.

She craned her neck to one side, her hand inching dangerously close to the bottom of my mask. Before she could make contact, I snatched her arm midair, closing my thumb and forefinger around her tiny wrist. A quick jerk to the left and I could break it. But that shit wasn’t my thing. At least not in the bedroom. The surgical table was a whole different story. In the pursuit of science or whatever else you wanted to call it.

“Careful, little lamb.” I lowered my face to her ear, breathing in the scent of her floral perfume. Somethingexotic. Something I couldn’t quite place. Which was new. “Out here, no one can hear you scream.”

I could feel her grin, the minute shift of her zygomaticus major pulling tight when her lip curled, before I felt something else entirely. A sharp, searing pain in my lower abdomen, followed by a wave of adrenaline and a comforting warmth.

“I’m counting on it,” she whispered as my eyes dropped to the glint of her pocket knife, the clean edge now splashed red beneath the ominous glow of the streetlamp.

8

MARISELA

Ishouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as I did. I’d always known I had a thing for violence. Liked watching my own blood rise to the surface and pool over. But I’d never actually stabbed anyone before. Thought about it, sure. Fantasized about what it would feel like to jump one of my father’s men, hold a gun to their head, and fuck them till I decided to blow their brains out.

But who hasn’t?

Fantasies were very different from the reality of it. The blood warmer than I imagined it being. And the thrill… Well, that was goddamn intoxicating. Arousing in a way I didn’t think possible. Part of me wanted to twist the blade, plunge my arm inside the gaping wound and feel around for a bit. While another part of me wanted to see what it was like to make this fucker snap, force him to wrap his hand around my throat and squeeze until we both saw stars.

Except my shadow man appeared to be just as fucked up as I was. His erect cock digging into my stomach as he leaned forward and groaned against my ear. The sound more pleasured than pained before he lifted his mask to just under his nose and sank his teeth into my shoulder. I heard the distant clank of metal hitting asphalt, telling me I’d dropped my knife, but I had no recollection of actually letting it go, as my arms closed around the back of his head and tugged him closer. His breath hot and minty against my skin and his neck muscles tight and rippling under my touch.

I wanted to see his face as much as I didn’t want to know who he was. There was just something so erotic about the idea of getting fucked by some stranger. About parting ways and never having to see him again.

I didn’t care that my back was scraping against the wall. Didn’t give a shit about the friction burns on my thighs as he ground himself against the tight material of my pants. While the fact he was ruining my clothes as he continued to bleed out from his abdomen was more of a turn-on than anything else.

I reached a hand between us, slipped it into his pants, and listened to the deep moan he made in his throat as I brushed a palm across the blood pooling on his right side and used it to ease the movements of my back-and-forth motions. Drawing out long, red strokes from base to tip. Exploring the smooth skin. Pressing my thumb against the little slit at the top before gripping the end like a joystick.

I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. Didn’t muchcare either. The satisfaction I felt each time he met one of my strokes with a drive of his hips was all the encouragement I needed. My orgasm teetering on the horizon as I released my grip and yanked him closer, practically forcing this stranger to fuck me through the several layers of clothing that still separated us.

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