Claimed

One

“Harder Jay, I’m still fucking pissed.” I grunted as he drove into me punishingly hard.

I rose up to meet him thrust for thrust, mind still reeling from my near victory. Jay was good, great even, on a good day, but I couldn’t focus on what he was doing today as I kept replaying how foolish I was to allow Tyler and Sage to accompany me to the raid. I should have realized they were loyal to the king like half of our law enforcing force.That’s on me but I won’t make a similar mistake if I get my hands on the fucking King, when I get my hands on the fucking king.

“At least pretend to want it Bekah.” Jay hissed out, breaking me from my line of thought.

“I do want it. I just – never mind.” I sighed, still trying to calm down from the nausea of having to shoot my own friends and coworkers because of their betrayal. I could still see the vacant eyes and taste the blood in my mouth of the people I used to call family once upon a time. Gritting my teeth out of frustration, I clawed at his back and bit into his neck. He grunted and paused all of a sudden, continuing languidly in a pace that was designed to tease me.

“Jay I swear to God, I still haven’t washed their blood off me and won’t mind adding a little bit of yours to it.” I hissed into his ear, jerking my hips upwards.

“I don’t doubt it baby.” He let out a lazy chuckle and quickened his moves, making me sigh again.

After a few more moments of the temporary bliss, Jay’s pace became erratic and his deft fingers found their way to my clit, rubbing vigorously as I imagined the defeat on El Rey’s face when even his loyal dogs would not be able to save him from my clutches, how he would blanch when I would drag him on his knees by the collar for everyone to see his demise and with that thought, I lost myself to the throes of passion with a strangled yell. Jay immediately followed after me.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Jay offered his condolences
after a while of getting our breathing even, referring to the depressing events of the day.

“You weren’t that bad.” I joked.

He rolled his eyes and looked at me hesitantly, “Uh do you want me to
stay the night?”

“No,” I said too quickly, “I mean no, I want space to clear my head.”

Accepting my explanation, he gathered his clothes, donned them, kissed my forehead and left the apartment reminding me to call him if I needed anything.

Making sure he left, I got up and went to my journal on the writing desk and crossed out DAY 698 – ATTEMPT 42 with a red pen and threw it at the wall with a yell. I couldn’t wait anymore. The desire to see him suffer was so thick in my blood vessels that it was suffocating me. I wanted to see him bleed, no I needed to make him bleed.

With this maddening urge driving me, I picked up the leather-clad journal and threw all the ideas I could use to capture him in there. Filling up page after page and crossing line after line, I cried out and rushed to the bathroom to get my sterilized blade and slowly pierced it into my thighs in diagonal, jagged lines. Spurts of blood started gushing out, calming my heartbeats and slowing my breathing back to normal.

I filled the bathtub with ice cold water and slowly got in it, the blood streaking down my legs turning the water a diluted, pale pink and the coppery smell of blood brought a dazed smile to my lips.