Tension

She struck him once more, sending him falling to the ground, his cheek stinging anew, burning with the cold sensation of pain from her pale hand. Her eyes glimmered with excitement and hate. Five strikes later he curled into a defensive ball hoping the pain would lessen that way. No such luck.

“Seven shots missed their target, seven strikes to make up for it.”
She said with a calm sense of eeriness; he peeked from his ball and stared up at her, she looked down at him as an abusive owner would look at their cowering animal, with fake kindness. “May I go home now?” He questioned timidly, he knew the answer, and it occurred to him as the words left his lips that it was a mistake in even asking such a false hoped question.
Her lips curled into a most dangerous leer, “Of course you can go home dear,” he quivered, he knew something wasn’t right about that statement; she continued, “After I’m satisfied.” At this point she grabbed him by the collar, pulling him upward and soon he hit the wall sliding to the ground; he felt the hard jab of her boot go into his ribs and a cracking noise sent wave after wave of a new pain; he whimpered, his hand going to his ribs and holding it tightly on the right side. She glared down at him, “Get up,” she sounded so calm when saying this, “Antoinette, I don’t think I can—” She backhanded him, he flinched, causing her to only graze his jaw, this gave her a new spurt of anger, “I said, get up.” She now sounded angry; slowly, he used the wall to help him stand, his form teetered, threatening to fall.

She shoved him into the wall harder with her lower arm, her face coming very close to his, her eyes showed no positive emotion to him, which was scary in itself. However, her closeness sent a sort of calm through him, her touched seemed to burn into him, her knee, resting on the wall, the leg lightly contacting with his own. Her arm, brutally holding him there, physical pain shooting through him, her torso, his torso, it was almost enough to take away the pain. Though, he was soon brought back when her other fist went into the cracked ribs, he cried out, squeezing his eyes shut, but the moment, it was going away, soon she would not longer touch him, only hurt him, he didn’t want that.
He did the unthinkable, he kissed her. Forceful, more so than he had ever been with her before; it was furious, her lips soft, smooth, his head was tilted, causing his to fit perfectly with her own. He expected some beating for his action, however, nothing came, the opposite, she kissed him back, her arm dropping from his chest, sliding down his arm until his fingers laced between her own. When they parted after what seemed to be an eternity where no pain could reach him, she rested herself against him for a moment, the feeling of her long eyelashes fluttering against his cheek sent a quiver through his spine, it was, nice. He felt a hot liquid spill from her eye, though she remained silent, not a hiccup or sniffle, just silence. It was better that way, he also knew it would be better that he did not question it. Though he wondered why she was. Truly she did not feel sorry for him after so many previous abusive nights.

Antoinette was a creature of hate, beauty, and cruelty, no emotion that could make this happen to her; she couldn’t be vulnerable, else her world would come apart. It baffled him, though he made no attempt to figure it out, not right now anyways. Her hand squeezed his, and he gently returned the pressure, she shivered, he could feel a sort of fear coming from her. He pulled her from the hiding place that she had found on him and kissed her once again, though it pained his ribs, he still wrapped his arms around her and embraced his body to hers and it was right, nothing seemed wrong, not at all. She stood still until she pulled him back, away from the wall, away from the living room where so many times before she had broken his body and pride, into a place where he had never been aloud to go before. She opened the door he had never seen beyond while still facing and pulled him into the darkness, shutting the door behind her.
Once again, she kissed him, fiercely, finding her way between his lips, she had become unlike herself, what had that kiss, that simple, almost innocent kiss done to her? He rested his hands on the curve of her waist, and she had no protest. His ribs were stifling with pain but he ignored it; he opened an eye and found his target. He slid away from her lips, onto her cheek, she tilted her head back slightly, brushing her long, curled hair away, he found her creamy white neck exposed. Good God, if he were a vampire that neck would’ve been a masterpiece to drink from, alas, he was human. He left a trail of hot kisses along it, her grip on his shoulder tightening along the way. He walked her backwards, reaching his hand down he tapped against the back of her knee until it gave in, he caught her back, laying her down onto the silken, king sized bed. He loomed over her, shadowy and desirable to her eyes, a hand on each side of her held him above her until he lowered himself down to kissed her once again. His left knee stretched to the floor, giving him balance to put the right knee on the bed, leaving him half straddling her. He hoisted the other up, continuing to fondle her neck with his wandering lips.

It seemed to out of place, to him, for her to be so submissive like this, this was not her personality at all, though he liked it this way, it just seemed unnatural. He would question it later, for now, she was his, not he was hers; all of the long nights of lust and abuse had come to this, though, this didn’t seem like one of her traps so he’d come back instead of stay away, oh no, this was more of a need. Did she? Did she need him for once? He had never stopped to think of why she hurt him, besides his bad luck of getting in her way while she tried to kill his free ride on life, perhaps it went deeper then that. He sat up, beginning to unbutton her shirt; she shook beneath him slightly, like a nervous virgin, though he knew she had the excitement of an experienced woman and the vigor of a teenager. Just the thought of it readied him quickly, she leaned up, shaking the shirt off and making them more even she pulled his black shirt over his head and tossed it off the bed. It landed near the paper-bin, where it should go, in her eyes, she despised the heartagram symbol that was printed on it; however, that didn’t matter right now. Like the age old school boy fumbling with the clasps until she ripped off the piece of undergarment herself, leaving her upper body exposed completely to him; he looked her over for a moment before leaning her back down, taking over her mouth, filling his hands with her breasts, caressing them, like almost every man does, as if it were the last time he’d ever see a woman in his life.


She slipped her thumbs beneath his beltline, pulling a little, sliding them down, off of his hips, finishing him before he had a chance to take away the black skirt that still protected her from being completely open to him. He supposed it was her way of saying ‘ha, I still have something over you,’ let her have it, he was in control, he had the advantage, at least, for the moment. He slipped it away so easily that she had no time really to revel in her ‘victory’ she now lay completely naked beneath him, though in the past their encounters were just dirty and only necessary to keep him from staying away, this time, it wasn’t this way, he pulled her up and held her, she hid her face in the crook of his neck and kissed it, nipping it, causing him to tense and relax until she moved over his jugular and did the same, of course not enough to break skin, but enough to leave a mark that would last a few days. The sensation shook his core, it wasn’t fair when she toyed with him, he hugged her close, trying to keep the only real intimate moment they had ever had as long as he could, though she made it hard to not just throw her down and be done with the deed.

She loosened her grip on him, and he laid her on her back, lowering himself to her; she tensed again, she looked nervous, was it because this was more than a ‘reward fuck?’ He continued until her voice came to his ears, quiet and shaking, “Axcell,” He looked into her unusually soft eyes and saw that of a scared child and it occurred to him; Antoinette probably never had sex out of emotion, then again, had he? Yet again, he had never really cared until he had met her, and with that said, he never expected it to come from her either. He again tried to continue, until she voiced again, “Axcell I—” He pressed his lips against hers and murmured a simple, “Shh,” it seemed to calm her, reassure her, he gripped her hips, aligned himself, she closed her eyes and with one swift movement, he pushed himself into her.
Her eyes shot open, and she took in a sharp breath of slight shock before she relaxed a bit. He brought himself to her, kissing her once again, his hand wandering over her chest, his sliding into her soon came to a smooth, rhythmic, thrusting pattering which started off mild, but with each heavy drive, he moved faster, harder. Their breathing picked up, the intensity rose. Friction flared between them, faster and faster, she kissed along his jaw line, hot, fiery kisses, she was losing her sanity, she half kissed, half licked now, her thighs squeezed against his movement, she tensed up her hips and pelvis, causing the movement to slide in a different way, he jolted with the sudden change, prepared for it, she arched her back into it, her hands went to his shoulders and clawed down his back, the sensation sent him to an animalistic stage, he bit down on that perfect neck. She cried out, the pain, the ecstasy, which was it? Was it mixed, was it one, nothing made sense now; he felt a hot liquid bubble up, in a sudden cannibalistic move, he licked it, his tongue smooth over the burning skin. He fit perfectly into her; she arched herself upward to meet his thrust. With that she suddenly cried out to God within the bliss as she orgasmed around his length; it gripped him, slid over him, he shook, holding it out for just a few more moment until he spilled his seed inside of her as she rode out her orgasm.

As her enraged hormones calmed down, he came to lie beside her, brushing the strands of hair off of her wet brow. Her eyes were hazy as she gazed at him, he looked back down at her, seeing a lovely, kind side of her, or maybe it was just the tiredness that made her seem that way. She leaned forward to his ear, “Axcell,”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

He froze for a moment, and then looked at her with a look that asked, ‘did you really say that?’ though she did not see it, she was already asleep. He stared down at here, wondering if she had lost herself forever to utter those words; it couldn’t have been actually her. After a moment, he kissed her cheek, “I love you,” He paused, “Antoinette.” With that, he pulled the silk comforter over them, falling asleep beside her.

Author's Note:Why no reviews? It can't be THAT bad. Or can it? o0