Opioid

Part Eight

Thanks: (noun) an expression of gratitude.
****
Ryan

Josh's house is vivid with life, Chris, Ricky and Ghost are in the kitchen, moving seamlessly from place to place like a choreographed dance. In the living room, a sports game plays on the tv while Ryan, Ash and Kylie lounge and entertain themselves. Ash had come over to my place and together, we had taken the trip to the house. Currently, Josh and I are sitting in the living room with everyone else. He had pulled me onto his lap and he brushes my hair with the pads of his fingers, a content look on his features. He occasionally looks up at Ryan who is telling him something about the game that is being played. I look around, slightly bored and not super interested in the game. Ash catches my eye and she leans closer to talk to me, leaning her elbows on her knees and smiling.
"How's work?" She asks in a light, jovial tone.
I roll my eyes in response, "Work is work, I make money but I don't really want to be there. They are trying to increase my hours even though I told them I'd prefer not to work on weekends."
She wrinkles her nose, "Will you find a new job already? God, you've been working there for how long? They need to treat you better."
"Where do you work, Ryan?" Kylie asks.
"A tattoo parlour on 4th street."
"Oh! I've been in there before, I like it, it's clean and everyone is very polite."
"Yeah, Greg is the best, he really cares about the art and making sure that everyone has the best experience possible, I mean, you remember when you got your first tattoo, it can be this life changing moment for people." I remember that my first tattoo was the most frightening and exhilarating experience. I was rebelling against my parents and I was doing something that I've dreamed of for a very long time.
I rub my hands down my arms, marvelling at the work that I've collected over the years. I catch Josh's eye and blush, but he just shakes his head a little and hugs my shoulder.
"Well, next time I go in, I'll personally request you, Ryan," Kylie announces with a tone of finality.
"Okay," I grin. "I'd be honoured to do your tattoos."
Chris walks into the room and claps his hands together, getting our attention. He pushes a lock of hair out of his face, "Dinner's ready, guys."
Ryan makes a noise of excitement and pumps his fist in the air before running into the dining room. Josh extends his hand to me and I accept it, feeling very regal and elegant as we stride from the room. I hold my chin up, I am the queen of the world right now with my gorgeous, undead King by my side. Ashley passes and bumps shoulders with me, a playful smile on her face.
"Slay Ryan, slay queen."
I giggle and resist the urge to duck my head. "Fuck you."
The dining room is decorated with fall leaves scattered on the white table cloth, a black cornucopia makes the table's centrepiece with dishes of food around it. The plates are white china with a black and gold design. Black name cards with silver, gothic calligraphy are atop the napkins. Chris is sitting at the head of the table with Ricky and Ryan on either side. Ghost and Kylie sit next to Ricky and Josh and I are placed next to Ryan with Ashley at the other end of the table. I admire the place card, running my fingers over the letters.
"These are so pretty," I mutter.
Chris tilts his head at me, "Thank you, Ryan. I'm glad to see I didn't lose the craft after the disuse of it."
"You did this?" I ask with a hint of amazement, Chris is more than meets the eye, I have to admit.
He smiles with a superiority as well as leaving something to the imagination, that there is more he's not sharing, but you'll be lucky if you ever find out. "I did, I enjoy calligraphy, the art is so elegant and so smooth."
I hum in agreement, curious at Chris and who he is as a person. I want to know more, hungry for his knowledge and history.
Chris leads grace with a smooth suave voice that makes saying the prayer sound like it's a sin, so erotic and blasphemous. And it leaves me feeling dazed and giddy, hazy from whatever spell he has placed us under.
Josh nudges my shoulder, bringing me back to the present. "Here, have some sweet potatoes. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," my voice is high, false. And is further proven by the lame smile I give him when accepting the dish of potatoes. "I'm just hungry."
He frowns, but thankfully doesn't press the issue further. The conversations meld into a hum and I pick up snippets from each, unable to separate and block out the conversations. I turn to Ashley and Kylie, listening in to join them.
"I have a hard time finding dresses online, I have a weird fit and I am hesitant to buy something that may not actually fit me. But the stores around here don't offer what I'm looking for, it's a constant struggle," Ash says with a hint of regret and pity.
Kylie nods, understanding and empathising with what she's saying, "I totally agree. I buy my clothing from this one website that, if it doesn't fit, you can return it with no charge and trade it in for a different size or clothing of same value. It's very helpful because like you said, clothing sizes vary from store to store and it can get frustrating."
"Sometimes the small, unassuming stores have some really great pieces," I interject. "I'll go into this one store not expecting to find anything, Daddy but walk out with some really great items."
"Oh, yeah, I definitely agree. We should go shopping, all three of us! Get our Christmas shopping done! Let's make a plan," Ash exclaims, clapping her hands together.
I divide my attention to Josh who is content with eating his food and just listen to everyone. We look at each other and Josh raises his eyebrows, inhaling sharply. I mimic his expressions and grin.
Honestly, I wouldn't trade this for the world.

Later that night, Josh drops me off at my apartment. I bite my lip and linger in the doorway, my hand on the frame.
"D'you wanna come in for a bit?"
Josh smiles in the way I love, his eyes crinkle up and his mouth has a bit of a smirk to it.
"I would love to," he purrs.
I open the door and back away from him, he stalks me back into my apartment. My back hits the countertop and a warm rush travels down my body, I look at him with hooded eyes and he returns my stare like a predator hunting his prey.
With a lunge, he pins me against the countertop, capturing my lips with a sense of victory, a hungered frenzy that is infectious. I return with vigour, grasping his shoulders and kissing him back with teeth and tongue. Returning the aggressiveness.
I moan and I turn my head as he begins to kiss down the column of my neck, his hands gripping the backs of my thighs, hiking my legs over his hips. The rushed fever, my hips buck up into his, grinding against him.
His fingers claw my pants, I bite his jaw and take my nails down his shirt, dancing into his pants, grabbing his cock.
"Fuck," he breathes into my ear, shoving my pants down while I wrestle him out of his own.
As he shoves my panties to the side, I reach up and nip his ear lobe.
"Fuck me, Josh. Make me yours."
I pull his cock out and rub it against me, teasing him with a coy smile. He digs his fingers into my hand, pulling it away and placing it on the back of his neck.
"Hold on," he rasps before pushing into me with a smooth motion that makes my eyes roll back into my head.
As he fucks me, I have to press my face into his neck, moaning like a whore on an aphrodisiac. The intense emotions are almost too much to handle, like a worm in my body, wriggling to get out. I hold on to him, he is the life raft while I struggle to swim against the currents of love and desire.
"Josh," I chant. "Josh, Josh, Josh."
"Cum for me, my love. Cum for me baby," he presses his thumb against my clit, the slow circles contrasting with his rapid pace.
It's too much for me, the pressure building and making me squirm, making me ache.
When I climax, I kiss him, pressing my lips against his with the hope to bruise the skin, mark him as mine just like he has branded me his. And when he cums, he fills me with his soul, and it warms me, completes me.
He carries me to bed, lays me down and kisses my forehead. He takes my shoes and socks off, pushing my pants and panties the rest of the way off before taking off his shirt and shoes as well. He covers us with us with the blankets, pulling me into his chest and smoothing my hair.
"I love you," he murmurs. "God, I love you."
I nuzzle him, kissing his throat, "I love you too, Josh. I always will."