… solipsubmissive …

This is a continuation.  You might wish to follow this link to the beginning:  soiled, Part 1   

Bloodlust. 

The moment Chloe parted her lips beneath his, Daños felt it, hot, throbbing, insistent.  Briefly, he considered fighting it, considered backing off, warning her, giving her a fighting chance.  Then she shifted a little, tentatively touched her tongue to his, and melted into him with a trusting little sigh.

Inside, the sadist smiled.

***

There were definitely advantages to being human, Chloe thought dreamily.  She closed her eyes and allowed herself to float.  Figuratively.  She almost giggled.  Figurative floating was way better than the real kind, she decided.

He’d kissed her almost senseless, the initial roughness with which he’d taken her lips gentling into a coaxing softness that made her head reel.  Kisses had fascinated her from the beginning, though the closest she’d ever come to experiencing one was when she’d stolen that brief, forbidden one the first night she’d watched him.  She’d tried to remain objective about the kiss, given the reason he’d kissed her in the first place, and she likely would have succeeded, if he hadn’t changed his tactic.  And now, nestled up beside him, her head cradled on his chest, she understood why.

He’d decided to seduce her.

She considered the implications of that for a moment, biting her lip.  “Daños?”

“Mm?”

“Why did you change the way you were kissing me?”

The question was more astute than he would have imagined.  Daños was silent a moment, reevaluating the depth of her comprehension.  “Why do you ask?”

Chloe smiled at his tendency to answer a question with another question.  “Because you started kissing me hard, as though you were trying to punish me.”  She stopped, thoughtful.  “Or warn me, perhaps.  But then it changed.”

Daños opened his eyes.  A cold, gray dawn was beginning to chase the darkness from the room.  He smiled tightly, almost a grimace.  The sadist always warred with the moralist in him.  Thus far, the moralist had always won, eventually, even when the sadist established a firm foothold in the situation.  His dealings with Chloe were no different.  As much as the sadist wanted her blood, as deeply as he wanted to mark her, hurt her, break her, something kept him from stepping over that line into complete darkness.

“Are you not the slightest bit concerned, Chloe, that I found you, unconscious, on my lawn in a rainstorm, that I brought you into my home to take care of you, and found myself fighting to keep my hands off you?  Does it not bother you that you’re here, naked, in my bed, mere hours after I discovered you there?”  He slid a hand into her hair, gripped it and pulled gently so her head tilted back and he could see her face.  “You think you’re an angel, Chloe, which tells me you are, at the very least, delusional.  It should bother you that I took advantage of that.”

Chloe bit her lip, her eyes troubled.  “I think you have that backwards.”

One corner of his mouth quirked in amusement.  “Do I?”

She nodded, her hair pulling against the hand that still clutched it.  “Perhaps it is me taking advantage of you, Daños.”  While she watched, his face changed, became distant and shuttered.  Chloe could almost feel the wall going up.  “Don’t, please,” she said, a little catch in her voice.

“Sit up, Chloe.”  He let go of her hair and watched as she pushed herself up and away from him.  She sat, feet curled beneath her backside and looked at him expectantly.  Her blue eyes were wide and bright and utterly without guile, and she made no attempt to cover herself before him.  “Do you have any idea what I’d like to do to you?” 

“Kiss me?”  The hopeful note in her voice tugged a reluctant smile from him. 

“Well, yes, Chloe,” he sat up and leaned toward her.  “There would be kissing.”  When she didn’t shrink away, he continued in a low, silky voice.  “There would be biting.  And grasping.”  He reached out with one hand and tugged on a dark, glossy curl.  “Hair pulling, angel.  Would you like to know what I’d do to your hair?”

Transfixed, Chloe nodded, then yelped when he plunged both hands into the curls on either side of her face.  “Do you feel my fingers twisting against your skull?  Feel the tension as your hair wraps around them, fear the moment the strands can no longer take the pressure, when it pulls painfully from your scalp, dragging tiny pieces of your flesh with it.   Some of it will just snap in my hands, and you’ll hear it, Chloe.  You’ll hear it and I’ll feel it and it won’t stop me from pulling harder.”  He drew her face back to his and she moved obediently, compelled by his hands buried in the soft clouds of curls.  “I’ll use it, just like this, to place you where I want you, to guide your mouth as I use it, and sometimes just to hurt you.”

Chloe blinked, her face still close to his.  She didn’t say anything, but her breathing had quickened.  He could almost hear the frightened pounding of her heart, and he tightened his left hand, holding her only by the hair on that one side, his right hand sliding down the side of her face to rest lightly against her jugular.

Bloodlust.

Daños brought her mouth to his.  “I want to hurt you, Chloe.”  His teeth moved against her mouth, opened slightly, took her lower lip between the dangerous edges of his central incisors.  “I want your blood.”

Part 13