I fuck her hard up the ass, her pussy moving over Clive’s cock as I do. I’m rough, and the shard of glass I picked up from the bathroom digs into my palm, making it bleed heavily over the bed sheets and Layla’s hip and thigh. I push deeper and harder inside her, making Clive shout in pleasure, “I can feel you inside her. Oh FUCK!”
Her ass strangles my dick as he fills her pussy. I pull out and decorate her ass cheeks in white ribbons of come. I splay my palm over the come, mixing the blood with it and swirling. Raspberry ripple ice cream was always a favorite of mine.
“Oh, shit. You’re bleeding!” Clive tells Layla.
Her head bows to look over herself. I rise up behind her, bringing my arms around her chest to pin her to mine. I grin down at Clive’s wide eyes noticing the blood and shard in my other hand. Their screams are the only music I hear as I plunge the glass into Layla’s stomach over and over. It’s so easy. The tight skin shows such little resistance before I slice inside her like she’s a warm, delicious dessert. It’s a rush watching Clive’s shock; he’s trying to swipe at Layla’s blood on his skin. He’s more of a coward than I would have believed. He isn’t trying to stop me; he’s just freaked out by the blood. Layla’s hands scratching at my arm weaken; her breathing is wheezy. Her hands fall, lifeless against her sides.
I push her body on top of Clive. His reaction is amusing. It’s like watching Carrie on prom night. He struggles to push her from him, his hands slipping on the blood. Crawling from beneath her, his flaccid cock dangles between his legs, still laced in Layla’s scent. I jump to my feet and stalk him around the bed. The best night of his life just turned into the worst and last.
“What the fuck did you do?” he cries, searching around the room for the hope that it’s not real. “My Dad,” he begins, but I don’t want to hear about how his Dad is a lawyer. There’s no saving him and there is definitely no saving me.
I whip my hand out, slicing across his jugular. His eyes grow impossibly large. His mouth gapes, trying to speak as a bright red waterfall runs down his chest.
“Fuck you and your Dad!” I laugh.
The high has me flying. It’s like having the best lay of your life. Coming so hard its euphoria, I feel so powerful in the moment of a kill, the superior breed of all these worthless fucks.
I lie on the bed next to Layla and let the darkness consume me.
Why is she still crying? She should be fucking dead!
“Ryan, that’s too deep. You’re going too deep!”
The haze clears and a sobbing Isabella greets me. I feel her hands around my wrist. Looking down to where she holds me, my eyes enlarge at the sight of a shard of glass sticking out of her stomach; her blood varnishing my fingers, and the end of the glass is cutting into my palm. I don’t even remember where the glass came from.
“I gagged you,” I say. That’s the last thing I remember.
“I pulled it out when you put your foot through the table and then stabbed me.” She chokes on the last word. I look over at the table; it’s smashed like she said, the debris littering the brown rug it sat upon. That’s when I feel the throb and burn in my calf.
“You went too deep,” Isabella murmurs again, her voice losing strength as her body sways.
Fuck! Fuck! I pull the glass from her. It makes a squelching sound and clatters to the floor, smashing in two. I catch her as she falls into me and swipe my arm under her legs to carry her to the bathroom.
“I don’t feel good,” she moans.
“Shut up!”
I lay her on the floor; her skin around the wound is angry and weeping. It’s not too big. I grab a towel and hold it over the slice marring her skin. My own palm leaks rivers of blood onto her flesh.
“It’s not that bad,” I tell her, holding up my hand. “A lot of the blood is mine. It’s just a flesh wound but I’ll need to put a couple of stitches in,” I add, casually, trying to make it seem normal and okay for me to stab her
“Flesh wound my ass, Ryan, you dick.” She tries to slap me but I grab her wrist.
“Stop fucking moving and quit bitching. I’ll tell Jodie we didn’t fuck to make it up to you.”
Her mouth pops open. “You haven’t done that yet?”
I shush her and go to fetch one of the bottles of vodka I bought from the fake buying I had to do at Stacy’s Dad’s shop. I grab the free sewing kit that was in the bathroom when I moved in and go to work getting Isabella fixed up. She necks half the bottle before passing out. Pussy. When I’m done, I dump her on the couch and go to bed.
“Ryan!”