Bikes & Blood

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

"He was born with a passion, love and hate."
-Women, Def Leppard.

18+ Minors DNI

Amara

She breathed out a drawn-out sigh, lifting a blood-stained hand to the claw clip in her hair to free her hair from its confines with a soft shake of her head, sending the bay-brown curls tumbling down her back.

She spared the barrel-lit cavernous living space a measured once over before she crossed the room, winding round the ornate wheelchair and beaten couches to the chipped pillar that supported the candlelit tunnel's entrance. Her footsteps echoed off the walls and back to her ears as she followed the tunnel to the flickering candlelit of the smaller cave. Her bedroom. If she could even call it that. She released a soft huff-like laugh as she bent down and moved the wooden-backed painting from the entrance, delighted and comforted by the excitable barking that greeted her.

Ares spun in small, excited circles, tail wagging a million miles a minute as he jumped up at her legs, tugging on the stained material of her pants with a playful growl. She chuckled. Shaking her head with enamour as she bent down and picked the Malamute up, ruffling the fur atop his head playfully as the black and white pup licked the underside of her chin. Ares wriggled in her grasp as she crossed the room and placed him in the makeshift pen tucked into the corner of the room, ruffling his fur one last time before she turned to the black, clothe-filled bag.

She sifted through its contents in search of something comfortable. Something clean and blood-free. A hum of satisfaction emitted from the depths of her throat as her fingers brushed against the black fabric of an over-sized tee, plucking a cermet-grey pair of shorts from the bottom of the bag before she rose from the floor, clothes clutched in her hands as she turned towards the bed and tossed the articles of clean clothes upon the mismatched bedding. Grasping the hem of her shirt with crimson-stained hands, she lifted the red smattered shirt over her and tossed it to the floor, eyeing the red splotches that stained the shirt with dark irises.

A startled gasp spilled from her lips as arms wound themselves around her waist, threaded and metal bracelets brushing against her stomach as their owner nestled their face in the crook of her throat and inhaled, warm breath fanning the bared expanse of her shoulder and neck. Blonde hair ghosted across her skin as weed, copper, and an undertone of something woodsy curled around her senses, tangling in her mind as musically calloused fingers drew small circles into the flesh of her hips.

"Paul..."

He hummed in acknowledgement; the vibration rippling across her skin like a lover's caress, grip tightening around her waist as he pulled her closer to his chest with a savoured inhalation of her scent.

"I'm covered in blood." She murmured, distractedly. Her gaze followed the leisurely caressing of his thumb upon her hips with rapt attention.

He lifted his head from the crook of her throat with a drawn-out groan, a voice deeper by a few octaves as he squeezed her hips with the barest of pressure.

"Fuck. I know." He lowered his head back to the bared expense of her shoulder, trailing soft, hungry kisses along her shoulder, throat, and the underside of her chin. "You look hot covered in it, though."

"She looks ravishing," Marko said, stepping around her shoulder as he came to stand in front of her. His fuscous gaze was ablaze as he stepped closer and rested a hand on her hip whilst the other cupped her cheek with utmost care. A devilish grin etched across his face as he closed the remaining space between them, connecting his lips with hers in a lustful kiss.