Squeak

New Jezebel

Jezebel

I fidgeted as Erik glared at me from across the bedroom. His silence was deafening, and it was difficult to read him. His face was a blank, emotionless canvas that made me wish I was a mind reader. Erik gave me a brief glance at how his disturbed mind operated. His plan for Tucker and his brothers was sinisterly depraved. His vengeful plans raised the fine hairs on my skin, quickened my pulse, shallowed my breathing, and stole my faith in humanity.

Erik stood silently and limped towards me. His pride and ego prevented him from using his crutches. I warned him if he fell that I wouldn't help him up. To which he swiftly replied that he didn't need my help, yet, he begged me to help him up the stairs. He circled me, scrutinizing eyes looking for a flaw while simultaneously undressing me—fantasizing about me.

My breath caught, and I jumped when he unexpectedly slapped me on my bottom.

"This will work. Tucker and his inbred brothers won't be able to hold themselves back. Hell, if my ribs weren't fucked up, I'd fuck you."

I squirmed in front of the mirror, desperately trying to ignore the wanton ache between my legs. Since that morning in the shower, my lust for Erik grew with each passing day. I craved his tongue on me again like there was no tomorrow. At times, I'd be studying and had to pinch myself in order to refocus on the text instead of the lewd thoughts I had of my troublesome roommate.

"You would?" I asked innocently.

"You know I would. I'll show you. Come sit on my face, Squeak."

"You want me to do what?" I asked in shock and disbelief.

"Sit on my face."

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to explain that to me."

"Come on, Squeak. You're not a fucking idiot," Erik growled as he tapped away on his cell phone. I balked when he brought the phone to my face. I was fascinated yet simultaneously horrified as I watched the naked woman rock over the man's mouth.

"I...I shouldn't be watching this," I stammered.

"Then look away."

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't because a part of me wanted what she had. "Can he breathe?"

"Shit. I don't know. Breathing is overrated. It's the best way to go if you ask me."

I reached up and poked Erik's nose. He hissed and slapped away my hand in response.

"Even if I was onboard, we can't do that. You're still injured."

"Fine. Give me a few days, and I'll be chowing down on your pussy like I'm on Death Row and it's my last meal."

"You're a heathen, Erik."

"I might be a heathen, but you're my Jezebel. Look at you in your white knee-high stockings and your Mary Jane platform pumps. You look like Paris Hilton, Alicia Silverstone, and a Bratz doll had a baby."

I was dressed in a provocative two-piece black and white plaid set; the top was a cami that showed off a little midriff, sporting the bejeweled belly button piercing Erik forced me to get. The skirt was barely an acceptable length and did not reach past my fingertips. If I wore it to school, I'd be sent home for a dress code violation. The outfit was finished with a platinum and diamond choker and matching tennis bracelet, diamond hoops, and silver knuckle rings to accentuate my white stiletto nails that were dusted in silver glitter.

"Erik...can I wear a sweater or something? I feel naked."

"That's the point."

"Erik?"