My Addiction - Tom kaulitz

Dull

++Time skip++

Tom and I sit on the sofa, brandy in hand, as his leg shakes and he lets out a series of frustrated huffs, he opens his mouth a few times as if he were going to talk, yet he doesn't say a word. I move closer to him, now sat shoulder to shoulder he removes his gaze from the carpeted floor to meet my eyes, I bite my lip and glance between his lips and his piercing eyes, his face which was knotted into a frown loosens up and matches my energy as I continue moving closer. If I can remove his stress, I can get him weaker, softer. So I look up to him with my eyes hooded as I rest a hand confidently on his bouncing thigh, his breath hitches as I move my head to the crook of his neck and place gentle kisses along his sharp collar bones, he tilts his head back leaving me more room to smother him in kisses.

I suck on his neck leaving purple bruises along his throat, he grunts as I bite the nape of his ear and slide my hand further up his now still leg. He tenses up and snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me onto his lap as my mouth stays stuck on his neck. I move down, planting rough kisses along his chest, he rests his free hand on my hip and slowly rocks my body against his, my pelvis hitting the tent forming in his jeans. His hushed grunts slowly evolve into drawn out grumbles which range in volume as I hit soft spots along his neck, I take control of him as I dictate the pace of my rocking body, causing his hand to drop to his side as he enjoys the pleasure I'm giving him. With each huff that escapes his mouth I roughen my body movement, causing an erratic groan to creep out of his pursed lips. I lift my head back up to meet his drooping eyes as I smirk at his uncontrollable grunts, he lets his head flop onto the pillow behind him, giving me the freedom to dominate him. I leave sloppy kisses along his cheekbones as I near his mouth which is agape with pleasure, but just as my lips hit the corner of his mouth, I move off of him. He lets out a whine covered poorly with a huff as I kneel before him, crossing my arms over one another and placing them on his knees. I rest my head in the crook of my elbow and stare up at his needy eyes; his pupils dilated and smothering the autumnal scene I hate to love.

The insides of his eyebrows raise into a desperate pout as I stand back up and trail my way up the stairs, signalling him to stay where he is. Once in his room I slam the door behind me, melting into the wall as I roll my head back and prance into the bathroom, smearing my lips with a disgusting cherry red lipstick and pulling my hair into a half-arsed ponytail. I swing on the doorframe as I re-enter the bedroom and rush to his wardrobe, filing through the heaps of clothes in an episode of pure bliss, realisation. At the very bottom of the furthest drawer I find, hidden under piles of unfolded jeans, neatly folded silk lingerie screaming my name in agony. I lift the flimsy material and hold it to my body, I throw my clothes off and hurriedly slip the skimpy yet elegant lingerie on and run to the full length mirror where I twirl in awe at the shapely material hugging my skin. I swipe one final layer of the lipstick onto my already stained lips, and rush back to the top of the stairs where I look down at Tom who's sat on the sofa, waiting as he taps his index finger on his knee. I waltz down the steps, and as I stand in front of Tom as if I were a trophy on display waiting for approval, he lets out a lengthy breath after swallowing trapped words.

I reach for the bottle of brandy sat neatly on the glass tabletop, twisting the lid off suggestively while holding the prolonged eye contact between me and Tom. He reaches his hand out for the bottle and pulls me back to him. I lower myself down onto my knees, sat back on my feet, watching each movement Tom articulates like a hawk spying on its prey. He lifts the dark brown bottle above me and tilts my head back with his free hand, his hand grasping my chin, he opens my mouth with his thumb on my lower lip, smudging the chilli coloured lipstick down my chin. I tilt my head back and open my mouth wider as the disgustingly sweet yet bitter liquid pools in my mouth, I close my lips and force the alcohol down my throat, trying not to throw it back up. Tom goes to take a sip, yet I stop him and take the bottle out of his hand, I lift the lip of the glass to my mouth and place my lips against his, enclosing him in a short lived kiss, the fiery brandy swirls into his mouth before he pulls away, swallowing the alcohol. I flutter my lashes as I pour more of the brandy into my open mouth, lifting the bottle further above my head creating a waterfall of the dark brown, leather coloured drink. We each take prolonged sips from the bottle, watching as the drink slowly disappears leaving nothing but a bead; which would amount to nothing but a singular tear.

Within minutes of not allowing Tom to touch me, I had him fully submitted to me, waiting patiently for me to allow him to touch me. I rest my warm hand on his thigh as he swallows eagerly, his eyes practically screaming for more, as my hand slides further up his leg he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. My fingers slowly reach his tip, which is being painfully restricted by his jeans. His head flops back as an intense rush of need rushes through his body, and just as he goes to let out a shaky breath I stand up and walk back over to the kitchen, not exchanging a single word. I rummage through the drawers by the sink, the low light dancing off the piles of silver cutlery arranged in the draw, the sound of metal clashing together filling the empty space as I grip the wooden handle of a dull knife hidden in the back of the draw. Running my thumb over the engravings of the handle I walk slowly back to Tom, diverting around a large marble pillar to flick the old looking radio on. It goes through a static fit as the music fights to overtake the uncomfortable crackling, an old song grows louder as I finally arrive back to Tom, he brushes his tongue over his teeth as I spin the dulled blade in my hand whilst I take long, slow steps closer to him. He sits in anticipation, waiting for my next move, wondering if this was some weird kink, or if I am going to kill him, so while I near him I let his imagination run wild, sometimes running a finger along the blade; drawing blood which balls up on my fingertip.

I stop dead in my tracks, staring him dead in the eyes tilting my head slightly to the side. I straddle him, pushing his head back with my free hand. The tension hangs in the air as we lock eyes, our gazes intertwining like a silent dance of uncertainty. Myself, bathed in shadows, clutching the dulled knife in my hand, its muted silver blade catching a glint of the faint light. Tom meets my gaze with a mixture of fear and curiosity. The silence amplifies the weight of the moment, each heartbeat echoing in the room like a distant drum. My intentions remain shrouded in mystery. The encounter, a delicate balance between threat and vulnerability, a standoff where words have no place and only the cold steel speaks volumes. I lift the knife to his neck, his veins pulsing as he waits for my next movement. I press the blunt tip into his neck, not hard enough to pierce the skin, but forceful enough to let him know that I have the power to cut the thread between life and death. He swallows, his Adams apple bobbing up and down as he peels open his lips, his glossy eyes reflecting the vague orange light, which bounces right back onto the bleary blade. I press harder, watching Tom wince as I painfully, slowly pierce the tight skin on his throat. A bead of deep red blood slowly grows at the small cut, sliding down his neck, leaving a trail of glistening red leading to his collarbone. He goes to slap his hand to the fresh wound, yet I pin his arm down beside him and force it under my leg.

I put the tip of the knife back to his neck for a second time, roughening my movements; digging the blade deeper into his skin. This time, the blood comes out sooner, coating the edge of the knife with a thin red layer, he winces as his breathing speeds up. The hushed light behind me glows onto Tom, allowing me to just about make out his features, his pupils dilated, his lips sealed closed and his nostrils flared with a mix of anger and fear. I pause my movements, leaving the blade wedged just slightly in the side of his neck, I lift my free hand above the blade, slightly squeezing the very top of his neck causing more streams of thick red blood to spill out of him. I resume my movements, dipping the knife further into his skin, Tom visibly fighting a yelp or a scream. His watering eyes screaming volumes as his lip twitches and his eyebrows quiver, I feel an undying urge to burrow the rest of the blade into his neck, to just end all of this right here, right now, to watch his blood stream onto the white sofa beneath us. However I hold myself back, lodging the knife further into him one last time, letting the thick warm liquid rush onto the knife, his shirt, the bottom of my hand. I pull it out, twisting it in my hand, admiring the way the light swims through the thin coat of liquid.