The Lady and the Flies

Chapter 13

Hey lovelies!! How are you guys? I just want to say thank you again for helping me get to 1k reads! It means so much! This chapter is a bit creepy because, well, Roger is a pretty creepy chap. But it is quite interesting. Clare is still caught up in all her drama, but I hope to somewhat clear that up in the next few chapters bc it is getting a bit boring :/. Well, I hope you enjoy!!

xoxo

NeverlandsDreamer

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It will all go away
My dear in time and measure
It will all go away
Things will get better
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Roger circled around the frightened girl like a lion stalking a gazelle. His eyes predatorily scanned Clare's frame. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, and were now clouded with fear. He crawled his way on top of her and pressed his hips very hard into hers.

And Somehow, god forbid, Clare found the strength to speak.

"Pl...please...don't," she breathed, her voice shaken and hoarse. Roger fell still at the sound of her quiet voice, enthralled by the sheer sense of frailty she emitted. With a small smile, he bent his head towards her so that their foreheads touched. He could feel her panicked, short breaths against his own, all the while egging on the pulsating feeling buried deep within him. It felt good abusing her like this. Good.

Roger smirked and pressed the tip of his knife into her warm flesh, watching as crimson blood trickled out. She shrieked in quiet terror, eliciting another groan from the boy - a groan lathered in lust and sadistic need.

With his eyes tracked upon the drizzling blood, Roger briefly contemplated on digging the knife into her soft skin again, just to feel her shudder beneath him, elating the sense of power in his mind. But he restrained his urge and focused his attention to the aching feeling in his groin.

Clare stared in stiffened dread as Roger smiled once more, folding the knife behind his back. He touched their noses together and she tried to turn her head, forcing an annoyed grunt from the boy above her. Suddenly, his eyes were shadowed with dark curiosity, and to her horrified dismay, she felt his hands return to her arms in an almost predatory movement.

When his gaze was reacquainted with hers, his trance was lost, and he was dark with menacing intent once more. He hovered above her, licked his lips, and brought his mouth towards the trail of blood down her cheek.

Before Clare could even scream, she felt something warm and wet glide across her cheek. It took her a moment to realize that Roger was licking her no, licking her blood. She squeaked in fear and the boy lazily lifted his head, studying her in interested intrigue. He was smiling again - that fucking scary smile and then abruptly, Roger brought his lips to hers.

At first it was only a featherlight touch almost sweet...nice even. Clare nearly forgot how much Roger frightened her, but then, on cue, he was crushing his warm lips against hers, violently and with haste. When she only stilled in response to his action, Roger grunted again and forcefully took her bottom lip between his own, melding their mouths in the most vulgar way Clare thought possible. she fell limp beneath her captor and allowed him to ravage her mouth.

It all happened so fast. At first it was innocent, and then terribly vindictive as the boy slipped his tongue inside his reluctant partner's mouth. She could still taste the blood that lingered upon him, her blood. It was metallically foul, and Clare had to mentally berate herself before she fully recognized what he was doing. His tongue slid against her teeth before moving against her own diffident muscle, a poor effort at arousing a reaction from the girl. The foreign feeling startled her and forced her to squirm beneath him, disgusted and stunned at the boy's instinctive impulses. Her thigh brushed up against him, and soon the silence was devoured by Roger's groans and Clare's soft sobs.