Sacrifice

14. Simply

Once again THEYRE CRAZY. Thanks.

+Melantha Collins+

I watched the frame of him walking into the tattoo shop and smiled, sitting back.

My doorbell rang and I looked through my doorbell camera.

My packages.

I ordered a bunch of dresses and gowns and corset tops.

UGH.

Love love love love.

I put them in my washing machine before tidying up doing the dishes, etc.

I wondered who his artist was.

I chewed my lip.

I didn't want a woman to do it.

I debated calling or going to see for myself.

I grabbed my keys and left.

I opened the door to the shop.

"Hello how can I help you?" The man at the desk asked but I looked past him.

I sighed when a man was speaking to him with black gloves on.

"I'm sorry, I was coming to see your jewelry." I said and he nodded leading me through all the piercings.

I didn't give a fuck.

"Bunny." I turned slowly.

"Come." He motioned me over with his fingers.

"Ah. You're the lucky woman." The man getting him ready smiled.

"Why are you here?" Zayan whispered.

"I'm just gonna go. I have shit to do." I turned and he grabbed my wrist, yanking me back, pulling me to kiss him.

"Alright." He let me go and I left.

-

I laid on my couch, watching his first live concert. It brought me comfort.

I forget how long tattoos take to do.

Then I wondered if he was gonna go to his place.

I'll figure it out.

I shut my eyes.

-

"Bunny." My ankle was grabbed, lips moving up my leg.

"Hm?" I whispered, my eyes heavy.

"Wake up. I brought home food."

I rubbed my eyes fucking tired.

I sat up, looking at the food on the counter.

I hummed, he grabbed my hands and pulled me to sit up.

I opened my eyes and he handed me a burger and fries from Freddy's.

He handed me some sauce.

He sat on my floor, having his meal on the coffee table.

We ate in silence.

"Where is it?" I asked.

He lifted his head, my name done in a black, gothic manner across his throat.

I nodded.

He cleaned up the trash for me when we finished before making me drink water, then standing in front of me, offering me his hands.

I took them, standing.

He kissed my forehead.

"What do you feel for me?" I asked.

He sighed, cupping the side of my neck.

"There's not a name for it."

"No?"

"No."

"Mmm."

He looked into my eyes.

It was strange. I love him. But he seems infatuated with me.

So I offered that.

"Infatuation?"

"Not quite."

"I feel like you're just settling. I fulfill darker parts of you so you settle for what you're unsure you won't get."

"That means you meet my standards." He smirked softly, our voices soft, my head was relaxed as his hand supported the back of my head, his other around my waist.

"I feel... like I have Stockholm syndrome."

"Technically." I murmured.

"But I don't think anyone's been taken by a woman like you, Melantha." He said.

"What does that mean?"

"You're unlike any stalker, watcher. I feel more into you than you are into me. Something about that drives me crazy. I feel like you're forbidden even though you forced me here." He kissed over my lips.

"I want to be everything for you. Every fantasy. I want to be yours. Yours to enjoy and to use. I'm right here. You have what you've wanted for years. Use it." He almost pleaded.

I smiled.

His lips brushed mine, soft, mine.

I let him kiss me. Feel me.

A lot of this was lust. Desire.

But in the most primal and vulnerable way.

Raw and perfect.

I chuckled. "If this gives you any indication on how I feel... I got a hysterectomy simply because you have a breeding kink."

His breath hitched.

"Yeah?" He whispered.

"Yeah."

His hands came around my waist, lifting me until my legs hooked around him.

"You knew this was going to happen." He looked at me, his hands moving up my shirt.

"Yes."

"My god bunny."

"I want to ride you." I said.

"Fuck yes."