The Sharpest Lives Ch. 12

"Stop moving. Look up. At me."

A haze in a heat wave. Everything else was evaporating.

I felt lips on my lips, a touch, some pressure, rolling and kneading, then gone. We looked at each other, and again, we kissed, as if trying to melt into each other slowly.

I felt his chest rise and I caved in mine. He made a soft sound, squeezing me softly, and we exhaled together. It was as though we were breathing for the first time, and until we could, we could not continue. Looking, kissing, breathing, touching, and leaving. Such simple gestures, but I was awash in the sensations of these movements, learning and trying them as one. The buzz in my head hadn't left- or maybe it had, and this was how it looked. Sharp. It felt blunt.

It might have been hours. We were deaf to noise, blind to light, and too afraid to move, because of the pain it might cause us. After a while, we might have been asleep, if we hadn't still felt the touches and the kisses grow deeper and longer.

A murmur woke us up. We untangled slightly, but still keeping near.

"So how do I measure devotion?" he asked suddenly. "By seeing how much you'll listen to me, unquestioningly? Or knowing that although you have another choice, you still decide to stay..."

I frowned. I didn't want to think about these things now. He caught my chin, and looked into my eyes.

"If I made you watch me fuck another woman, and then demanded you to not feel a thing, would you not feel it?"

I felt my fingers and toes grow cold. "That's what it is for you? That's what you want to do?" I asked, my voice breaking.

He obviously noticed I was upset. "It's not like that..." he consoled.

"How can you even think... of doing that?" I asked. Tears rolled down my cheeks. "To me?"

"Little rabbit..." he reached for my face, cupping his hands, but I pushed him away. "I wouldn't spend weeks and months building something up to tear it down," he insisted.

I looked away. The catch in my throat was painful, the beating in my heart was painful- everything was-

"You know Liam, I think you would," I replied. "I think you would, just for a laugh. A distraction, to make yourself forget how useless and empty your life is."

"Ouch." He smiled, lightly kissing my chin.

"No." I pushed him away, and got off the bed. I went to the closet to pick up some clothes.

It hurt.

I stayed away from him for the rest of the day. I left the room when he came in, I occupied myself when he tried to talk to me. In the evening, he finally approached me head on.

"It was a thought. Something like a joke. Don't be so mad." He made to hold my hand, but I moved it away. I stayed silent.

"This is worse than having you shout about it," he said. "What do you want to say? Let it out."

"I'm going to bed." I got up.

"Alright, then." He got up with me.

"I'm sleeping in Bambi's room. Mom told me to."

A look of annoyance flashed over his face for a moment. "Okay," he said tersely. "Okay."

Little by little, day by day, he stopped bothering me about it.

It ate me from inside, but I could not speak about it.

How do I explain?

Maybe I always knew the kind of person he was. Maybe I was more attracted to his sadism than I'd ever admit, even to him. Maybe, I liked the idea that I was able to stand it, that he chose me, and only me. It wasn't just the sexual 'deviance' - he chose to be both rough and soft with me. He had bared his soul, and I didn't mind the ugly, the broken, the sick bits as much as I should- and I wondered if there was something wrong with me as well. But if there was, then we're a perfect fit, weren't we? He wasn't normal, he made me abnormal, for his use, to combat his emptiness and my loneliness. We didn't just enjoy each other... we were feeding off each other.

Letting someone else into it, even if it didn't mean anything felt like sacrilege.

I knew he was with other people before me. I knew I wasn't the only one he ever felt comfortable with, or the only one he ever unleashed his fantasies on. But I was here, right now, for him. I gave up everything for him, to be solely with him. Couldn't he appreciate how much I paid for this? I have a right over him... And he dared to even think...

Who'd put up with him anyway, I thought vehemently. Nobody would put up with this mental agony or his perversions. It looked enticing- the possessiveness, the obsession, the demand for control, but few people could actually live with it. There was a point where he pushed just to see how loud you'd scream, regardless of whether or not he felt any pleasure doing it. I knew, because I learned I was like that too. His desires were beyond sex or love or faithfulness... It leaked onto everything in our lives- and I was fine with it. Who else would be? Being attracted to danger is one thing, but living with it... nobody could. Only I could. I'm the best thing he's got. I'm the only thing he's got.

And, when his disease progresses, when he starts to lose everything that made him charming and dangerous and seductive, and when his twitches and fits start scaring people worse than his nature...when his mind deteriorates, when he'll just be a shell, rotting slowly in his bed, like his father... I'll be there. I'll be the only one there. He knows this.

He can do all he wants. I'd allow him to break my body and my spirit. He can be lord and master of all, because he knows he has to give all that in one day, to me.

He can't live without me. He can't even die without me.

All this ran though my head as I watched him grasp the ankles of the girl lying naked in front of him.

I heard him whisper the same things he whispered to me, as he raised her leg over his shoulder, heard the slap slap slap of his fingers pounding into her slick cunt.

She moaned, rising up to kiss his lips, begging him to taste her nipples with his mouth.

Their bodies touched, and they rolled to the side, and I could see his cock, hardened, erect, pushing teasingly between the folds of her pussy. Raising a leg over her hip, he grabbed her hair, pushing her down to service his cock. She lapped up his cum hungrily, eager to please, asking for more, deeper and harder, and he complied.

He looked breathless as he came into her mouth, his seed spilling into her face and onto her breasts. Still grabbing her by the hair, he pulled her up, his hands reaching greedily for her breasts. She wrapped herself around him, and edged her pussy to his cock again, begging...

They fucked, and I watched from the couch silently, thinking.

I wasn't sure how long they continued, because then he flipped her over, on her knees and hands, and filled her ass with cum. Then he make her suck him off again, while he licked her pussy. And then again, something, and then some. I just watched.

After what seemed like a long time, they lay together, in each other's arms, still whispering to each other. I dozed off, myself.

I woke up when I heard bedsprings groaning- the girl had gotten up, heading to the washroom to clean and dress herself. He still lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling.

She came out, dressed, and stopped, as though noticing me for the first time. I didn't look at her- I didn't have to look at her, to feel the emotions screaming from within her. I blocked it, I really couldn't care.

"You should leave now," I said quietly, with a small smile on my face. Quickly, awkwardly, she hurried out.

Now it was just me and him.

"I had to get my fix somewhere," he said finally.

I said nothing. I gingerly got off the couch, rolling off slowly, stiff from lying in an awkward position for so long. I rubbed my belly- my baby was sleeping. I felt a little cold, and wondered if he felt cold when I did.

I took out the anklet from my handbag, and held it up. The jingle of the bells caught his attention.

He smiled, looking at it, and I was pleased to see that we was thoroughly confused underneath that fake smile.

"Would you like to make it longer?" he asked, as I got on the bed, sitting on my knees. "It would fit you-" He cut short as he noticed me trying it around his ankle.

"You've been quite talkative recently," I said with a slight smile on my face. "It's so not sexy... Doesn't suit you at all..."

I slowly made my way up, my knees between his legs. It was difficult to move, and he pulled me up, gently by the wrists. Hovering over his body, I looked into his eyes. He searched mine.

"Were you jealous?" he asked. I didn't answer.

"Angry? Annoyed? Hurt?" he tried. I bent down, and kissed his lips. It was a long, deep kiss.

"My little rabbit," he said between breaths. "You love me so much, don't you... even with this, on command... you... are completely mine... my soul..."

We sighed together, and he smiled as I fell back to sit on my knees. I smiled placidly as well. He stopped, as if realizing that maybe something was wrong

This cyclone of emotions was fun to watch.

"Please say something," he pleaded. "I can't read you."

There was fear in his voice, his eyes... I could see his muscles twitch slightly, as if ready to run.

I raised the penknife high above. Some of his habits really rubbed off on me.

"You scare me," he whispered, as I bought it down upon his chest.