LEWD

ARSON

a/n: shitty bc I'm writing this at like midnight. sorry af I know this is cringe worthy.

Charlee

I park my car and slam the door, storming down the pathway. Who does he think he is? She is pathetic, I can give him what he deserves. He needs me. He can't live without me. I reach his house, climbing the fence and stamping my feet into the ground, making definite footprints. My anger boils as I walk across his deck.

He needs me. He can't live without me.

"Get ready, fucking asshole," I growled as I kicked through the glass of the back patio door. I shook the glass from the mens boots I was wearing and ducked through, narrowly missing the sharp crystals poking from every direction. I checked my surroundings before switching into my flats and made my way into the kitchen, turning the gas stove on and pulling the curtains down further. I swipe my finger through the heat and moan at the blistering pain spiralling up my index finger and oh yes.

I leave the kitchen and trail up the stairs, the soft pads of my fingers lingering on the wooden banister. I hear the shower running. Perfect. I make myself comfortable on his bed, unbuttoning my shirt and folding my legs.

He needs me. He can't live without me.

I waited approximately seven minutes before the pounding of water was no more, only the humming of his voice lingering through the air. The smell of shampoo fills my senses as I await his arrival. Would he have missed me? Does he still want me? Does he need me? Obviously.

He stepped out of his bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his waist. His eyes connected with mine as he froze in place, grasping his towel. My eyes travel up and down his bare chest, the familiar sight pleases me. I am ready.

He needs me. He can't live without me.

"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey," I taunted softly, focusing on my nails, the tantalising white colour almost as bright as the towel slung low on Michaels hips. I slurp up the beauty before me in my peripheral vision.

He needs me. He can't live without me.

"What are you doing here?" His voice shook, backing away slowly.

Why was he backing away? Didn't he want me? He can't have. He needs me. He can't live without me.

I pout and stand, walking towards him and tugging on his towel. "Pity that you chose a white towel. So clean, so pristine. Remember when your hair was white?" I chuckle at the memory, while he only stiffens further.

My eyes snap up to meet his, "Do you not remember? Or are you just ignoring me?" I shove him against the wall and guide my hands under his towel. "I don't like being ignored." I ran my hands down his front to find his member, gently stroking it. Mikey only quivers before pushing me off of him, only landing me on the bed. I laugh out loud.

He needs me. He can't live without me.

"Excited, are we? I know I am."

"You sicken me," he spits, turning around to get dressed.

I mock gasp, "you hurt me!" I grasped my chest and writhe in the bed, the light smell of smoke now drifting into the room.

It's time.

I stand and saunter over to Michael, massaging his rough shoulders. "So tense, baby, have you been stressing?" I lower my hands and smack his bum before whispering in his ear.

"Maybe I can relieve some of that stress."

His elbow swiftly knocks my gut as I hunch over in pain. The shock sends me into an incredible high and I immediately become aroused. He slams his drawer shut before shoving me on the bed and tightly gripping my chin towards his face. "Enough! Get out. Now," he seethes. I only grab his neck with both hands before roughly kissing him.

He needs me. He can't live without me.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that. Ever. You want to play that way? Alright, Clifford, let's play." I snarl against his lips, before flipping him over and straddling him on the bed. He chokes and grasps for air and claws at my back. The sensation runs ecstasy through my veins, I groan loudly as his sharp movements become more furious.

He needs me. He can't live without me.

"Oh, Clifford, you don't even understand how impeccably sexy you're looking right now." I rip his towel off, releasing one hand off his neck. His free hands now grasping my arms like nothing else. I pull one off and slide them down my body, down to my sex and back up again, leading his hand to his lips. I almost unwind from the sight of him, writhing and struggling.

He needs me. He can't live without me.

"Taste me." I demand, but when he shook his head in refusal I only grew angrier.

"Taste me!" I shove his fingers in his mouth as he grimaces. I only smile in pleasure.

The bag I brought in with me laid only centimetres away from where I was on the bed. I rushed and grabbed it, pulling out long strips of textile material I had taken from my sister. I wrap his hands on the bed head behind him tightly, his hands already turning a bright pink from the loss of circulation.

"Come on, Clifford, I want to hear you beg." I lust.

He needs me. He can't live without me.

I centre myself over his member, slowly riding him into a land of adrenaline. His shouts of disapproval and pain only fuel me as groans escape my parted lips.

"Beg. I want to hear you beg!" I shout, still feeling the pleasure surge through my veins. The feeling was indescribable. I could feel my heart beat with every movement. My rhythm in synch with his monotonous shouts, eyes shut and faced bunched in ecstasy.

"No, please. No more." He pleads, shaking his head.

"Say you need me. Say you can't live without me. Say I'll always have your heart."

"Please!"

"Say it!"

"I need you, Charlee. I can't live without you. You'll always have my heart!" He blurts, salted tears pooling at his neck. The sight is all too much, sending me into a blissful unraveling accompanied by a loud scream.

He needs me. He can't live without me.

I climb off him and only seconds later does the smoke alarm start wailing.

"Ssssh, baby. Relax, it's all easy going from here," I whisper in his ear, as he sobbed. The large steel knife I peel from my bag sets him off again and I brush his hair back, cooing in his ear.

"You need me," I whispered, starting the gash on the left side of his chest. He screams and squirms but I only cover his mouth, my breathing accelerates as the blood seeps from the wound.

"You can't live without me," I state, pressing deeper this time. I moan at the visuals before me, so endearing.

"I'll always have your heart."

Twenty minutes later, the house had been engulfed in flames as I hastily made my escape, another stolen heart in my grasp, from another stolen lover.