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kaiandersonsdevotedwife · 6 months ago

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The Haze

MDNI! Minors go away! (it makes me so uncomfortable if ur reading that-)

Requested by: anon!

Cw: sexual content, dark content, drug usage (she takes from Sally), dubcon (because of the drugs but she's VERY conscious and eager I promise), public, fingering, piv, murder mentions, fear kink. F.reader (I tried to make it mostly gn tho).

Disclaimer: By clicking "read more" you confirm that you're above 18 and have read the warnings, and consent to viewing adult material. All characters depicted are fictional and have no actual connection to the real murderers (that's why I also didn't use their full names).

You really weren't proud of yourself for this one. I mean, taking drugs from a stranger? In your defense, Sally - the woman from the room a bit above yours - said it wasn't an actual drug, that it would just loosen you up before you headed towards the party. You were all nervous, you've been preparing your costume for so long! A white dress stained red where your heart was, the copious amounts of fake blood almost dripping from the fabric. Yet Sally still managed to look more like a ghost tyen you ever could.

You were staying at a hotel named Cortez, enamored by its vintage decor and morbid legends. The owner seemed amazing, too. Oh yes, James March bought you a drink your first night and introduced himself, eyeing you like a piece of candy or meat. The type of attention he gave you felt exhilarating. No matter, though - he said he was going to be busy on Halloween, so you've made your own plans. At that, he chuckled darkly. Oh, you won't have any other plans than what he allows.

After all, he sent Hypodermic Sally after you.

"I don't do drugs-", you tried to protest, but she pouted and held the pill to your lips

"That doesn't even count as drugs, baby. I've been high on the air more than on that. That's just for fun. Don't you wanna have fun?"

She blinked at you, and you felt... lame. You were a little sheltered, so maybe if you don't take pills in LA, it's seen as being boring? Her eyes almost mocked you for your fear of a simple, tiny pill.

Fuck that, you thought, and you took it.

And immediately you realized that Sally McKenna is a liar, as it was most definitely a drug, and incredibly potent at that. How it had no effect on her, you had no idea. It's as if she was dead already and substances could hardly affect her. Or maybe she's just so used to taking it that she developed a tolerance?

Your world was spinning. Sally took you in her arms - surprisingly strong for her scrawny figure - and helped you out of her room. Had you been a bit more conscious, you would have been worried about her assaulting or robbing you, but you could barely distinguish the floor from the ceiling now, so you leaned into the girl and let her help you. Besides, you felt good, really good. It was a feeling like no other, smooth and sticky and heavy in your stomach and head, as if you were falling asleep in your mother's arms after a comforting meal.

Sally was not nearly as happy as you were. She struggled to hold you up and drag you around the hotel, and frankly, she felt a little bit bad. You already looked so adorable, like a true victim, and she felt as if she was carrying a corpse. You were clearly that bastard's type, she thought. She tried not to imagine the sick, sick things James March and his lot would do to you - he was not one to kill cuties like you quickly.

The red and gold decor of the Cortez felt familiar and you thought Sally must be leading you to your room, what a sweetheart she is! But, huh, the elevator seemed to take a lot longer than usual. Oh, you couldn't hold it anymore and you threw up right there on the corridor. Sally held back your hair and cackled wildly, as if your retching amused her. You spat out the disgusting taste and, with Sally's help, got up. But why was jazz music playing so loudly in this corridor? And, hey, 78 was certainly not your room's number!

Sally must have noticed your change in demeanor, because she grabbed you with full force and basically shoved you into the room as you stumbled and struggled against her. She crudely wiped your face with her sleeve, smudging your makeup and cleaning up whatever dirt you might've had around your lips.

"...look presentable for him.", you heard her mumble. Your senses were slowly coming back to you, since you threw up most of the drugs, but the room was still shaky and blurred. The jazz music was way too loud and you winced when Sally pushed you past the record player. It is then when you noticed the most bizarre scene.

James March, the owner, seemed to be having a formal dinner party, definitely a costume one too, though only some attendants decided to get dressed. James himself wore the most elegant early 20th century suit you've ever seen. Another man at the table wore a sack over his head, presumably dressed as some sort of murderer. You felt quite silly in your white, bloodstained attire, as your outfit was most noticably a costume. You turned to Sally to ask why she had brought you here, but she just pushed you into the room and left, stealing a shiny teaspon on her way out. Great. An amazing way to enter a fancy party...

Only then did you take a better look at the other guests. They looked so, so eerie, for a reason you couldn't quite grasp yet. Maybe it was their predatory gaze, or the heavy aura of the entire room that seemed to scream at you, twist the space in such a way that they appeared more important. It's as if a black hole was in the place of the table, bending gravity and space around it. Or maybe it was the drug still making reality quite hazy.

"Ah, the last of my guests is here! The dessert, so to speak", March exclaimed and walked to you in long strides, capturing your trembling, confused frame in his arms then leading you back to his seat.

"I know it is way too early into the night for dessert to be served, but I ask you all to bear with me", he said sitting you on his lap, "I have taken quite a liking to this one"

You yelped as he tugged you onto his lap. It was strange. You shouldn't be here. Yes, you hoped to see him again, but this was unexpected. Who were all these people, and why would he put you in such a compromising position? You tried to say something, but speech refused to obey as your vocal cords felt heavy with the drugs.

"Come on master, why wait, she's bloody already!"

You turned your head right, in the direction where the voice came from, and you were met with the most predatory, hungry look you've ever seen in any man's eyes. With a whimper, you leaned more into the familiar hold of James March, making a few of his guests chuckle darkly.

"Mr. March?... what's going on? I should leave, I..."

You turned to him and forced yourself to speak, but James shushed you with a finger placed on your chapped lips.

"Shh, my dear, you've nothing to worry about. I shall protect you from the big, bad wolves", he said with a grin, and you were certain that he was the worst of the wolves sitting at this table. You tried to get up from his lap, excuse yourself and leave, but he held you firmly. But honestly, could you even walk on those wobbly legs of yours? So you just relaxed into your pleasant high and James' cold frame. He made you feel scared, but at the same time strangely protected.

Conversation resumed at the table, and you tried to blend into March from embarassment - you were sitting on his lap like you were his girlfriend... Though, you had to admit that both the drug-induced pleasure and his undeniably beautiful body so close to yours made you a little more wet than you would like to admit. You found it impossible to focus for more than a few seconds, but you shyly observed the guestes from under your lashes. One woman at the head of the table, her costume disheveled and hair very greasy; she was the loudest and least terrifying of the lot, perhaps because she was the only woman. At the other end was an empty chair, as if March left it for someone who would come another time. Both of the men sitting next to you (or James), you didn't dare take a better look at. The one who made the filthy remark had his gaze trained on you most of the time, even when talking to others, which was unsettling on its own - and he was doing it on purpose for sure. The one on the left, however, didn't pay much attention, which was weird considering you made for a pretty lewd sight on March's lap. You couldn't explain it, but his gaze seemed sadistic. The man with the sack on his head wasn't very impressive, to be honest, and the one sitting next to him looked so anxious and out of place you'd totally feel bad for him if he didn't have the same eerie aura as others.

You jumped and stopped observing them upon feeling icy touch on your delicate, exposed thighs. And then neck. And then your clothed breasts and core.

Desire is usually described as burning. But what you felt now was cold, lifeless, almost detached, that is how scared you were. Yet James' cold fingers were unrelenting, kneading your thighs and breasts, pinching your nipples meanly just to get you to squeal, bouncing his leg occasionally to fluster you. You were a playtoy for him. Nothing but an arm candy to be gawked at by the licentious guests. You should push him away and hide somewhere, not let him grope you publically like some whore. But you did let him, and you knew why; it wasn't the remaining drugs in your system, you were just into him and very, very aroused. You craved his dick inside you, even if it was in front of all those strangers.

"Do not squirm, dear, or they will know what we're up to", James whispered before pushing your panties aside to prob at your pussy. You lolled your head onto his shoulder, another wave of high washing over your mind, but you managed to stay silent somehow. God, what was he thinking?? Touching you like this under the table as if you were in the bedroom...

Without warning, he started fucking you gently with two of his fingers. The stretch was too sudden and you jumped with a yelp, drawing a few pairs of eyes to you and getting a cackle out of the sinister woman. You closed your eyes and tried to squirm off his lap just to be met with tuts and coos, voice smooth like molasses whispering into your ear. It's alright. You're safe. Oh, little harlot, you're all safe in my arms. You doubted it, but it felt so good, so nice... almost homey. It made you brush against heaven despite being the closest to hell you had ever been. His fingers stretched you wide in scissoring motions oh so slowly, but the wet sloshing noises were definitely heard by the others. You risked a glance at the creep on the right and found his eyes glued to your half-exposed pussy and James' fingers going in and out of it. You quickly tried to pull your dress down, but in turn James hiked it up to your neck, ignoring your weak protests. Now only a thin bra hid you from complete nudity, but really, it left nothing to the imaginination. In your hazy state, you didn't even care that much, but the leering guests certainly did care. You were all exposed to them, but the humiliation only strengthened your desire. The only displeased one was the anxious young man who just picked at his dinner with contempt.

Who were those creeps, exactly?

As if reading your mind, James answered.

"Are you aware of who exactly built this hotel, dear?"

You shook your head, avoiding everyone's gaze and trying not to moan. He chuckled.

"It was I, James March. I built it to hide the evidence of my murders, in 1926.", he punctuated the word murders by thrusting his fingers particularly deep, "and tonight I am celebrating all the wonderful killers who carried on with my legacy."

Your head was spinning. What was he talking about? Was the theme for this party to dress up as... famous murderers?

"You see dear", he continued "John and Ricky get to sit next to me because they really took my advice. Of course I respect and admire you all-", he quickly glanced at the rest.

"Anyhow... yes, what you see here, darling, is the crème de la crème of American serial killers."

He curled his fingers on your sensitive spot and rubbed your clit, but you could hardly focus on physical sensations at that revelation.

"So... that- that was the costume theme?.."

This question earned you a laugh from all of them, every single one chuckling darkly, mocking your naivety.

"No, dearest", March answered, "we are, as they say, the real deal"

All pairs of eyes were on you now. And you noticed that he was right. These people weren't playing dress up, the heavy aura was caused by their evil deeds, the depravity that they succumbed to. Murderers. You were surrounded by murderers, and getting fingered by a murderer as well. The thought almost made you throw up the second time.

He raised your hips and positioned you over his dick. You weren't even close to ready, stress and fear making you clench way too tightly for it to not feel painful. You started to whine and protest, trying to get away again, anything to leave this room full of killers, but then you felt a blade press against your neck. You stilled. The man on your right again. Oh, how you hated him in that moment...

"Ah, thank you, Ricky...", March said before lowering you on his length, with you unable to protest now with the knife digging into your skin. You whined at the stretch; it felt so amazing despite the situation. No, more than that - you found yourself loving it, loving both James' attention and the fear tightening your core. Suddenly the idea of being surrounded by murderers felt more arousing than disgusting. Those people were vile. Those people could kill you. The knife on your throat almost felt pleasurable. You were questioning your sanity, but the truth is, James March's dick was enough to melt your self-preservation. You didn't care about the possibility that he's dangerous; the groan he let out when bottoming out was enough to turn your rational brain right off. You just wanted to ride him, and the only thing stopping you was the loud "oooooo" noise the killers let out. Well, also the fact that they were killers. You weren't sure if you wouldn't die because of being bratty.

James pulled your dress back down and over your hips, hiding where you two were connected. He seemed to be completely content with you just warming his cock, which was both a blessing and a curse for you. At least you didn't get fucked in front of all those people.

He had so many ideas for you. Maybe he'd tell his guests to explain their murders and methods and see which one makes you clench the hardest from fear? Or maybe he should just bend you over the table and take you roughly, right there, in front of his friends? Maybe even let them use you if they so please? But no. The last idea made him frown and hold you closer. You weren't for sharing.

Maybe you would even survive the night. Yes... you certainly would. That cunt of yours was divine, and your gaze delectable enough to make you live at least one more day. He relished your warm, living flesh against his cold one.

He called upon miss Evers to bring another prey for their murderous dessert. He would make sure to stain you with blood so much you were dripping red.

Thet thought made him thrust up into you just once.

A/N: I was super hesitant to post this, I was worried it'd be controversial or too dark. But it's just to fuel anon's exhibitionism kink anddd also fiction! Remember that. I'm so embarassed about this one & I realize it's unrealistic. I tried to keep the killers' descriptions to a minimum.

Tags: @marchsfreakshow (special thanks to Duckie for an idea! Check her out now!) @fear-is-truth @briaroftheroses @nahoyasboyfriend @carniv0reev @slvt4jamesmarch @lacucarachapisser @bluerthanvelvet444 @kaiandersonsdevotedwife @taintandviolent

#guilty as charged i did request this #hey listen i had a dream and i needed to share #sometimes there are things that cannot remain dreams #this is beautiful and i’d love to get it tattooed on me

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kaiandersonsdevotedwife · 6 months ago

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𝓓𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬

— kai anderson x f! reader | nsfw ⨟ mdni | wc. 1k

𝜗℘ WARNINGS : fem! reader. oral (f! receiving). dirty talk. daddy kink (sort of). english is not my first language & i’m too lazy to proofread | 18+

note: i’m really rusty so.. pls be nice ok

𝜗℘ taglist form | masterlist

The breath left your lungs as Kai shoved you backward, pinning you against the cold surface of the break room wall in City Hall.

“Kai!” you hissed, but he was already shutting the hardwood door behind him, the click echoing through the room. Eyes ablaze, Kai was electric, crackling with the residual energy of his recent triumph. The crowd had devoured his campaign speech, hanging on every one of his carefully woven webs of lies and deceit. It was a side of him you rarely saw, reserved for moments of victory or, as you knew all too well, after a particularly successful murder mission.

“Did you see me up there? They fucking loved me! They ate that shit up!” his smile was nearly splitting his face in two as he grabbed both of your hands. You nodded enthusiastically, mirroring his excitement.

“You were amazing,” you said softly, heart swelling with genuine admiration.

“Fuck yeah I was!”

He barked out a laugh, his grip on your hands tightening for a brief moment before releasing them to slide up to cup your face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, thumbs tracing the curve of your cheekbones.

“I knew I could count on you to help me nail that speech. Couldn’t have done it better without you,”

Before you could squeeze in another compliment, Kai leaned in and captured your lips in a tender, almost chaste kiss. Slowly but deliberately, his lips moved against yours with a surprising tenderness. When he finally pulled away, he kept his forehead pressed to yours.

“Maybe I should reward you...” He tilted your chin up, pressing his body up against yours.

“…I’ll give you a treat. Anything you want.”

“You, you’re all I want,”

you breathed, blinking up at him through your eyelashes. Kai chuckled lowly at your response, his chest puffing with satisfaction. You knew the effect it would have on him, stoking his already inflated ego.

“Is that so?”

His lips grazed the sensitive skin at the junction between your shoulder and neck. Then he nipped at the tender flesh, gently biting down before pulling away. As he retreated, dark eyes locked onto yours, a devious curl of a smirk forming on his lips.

“But you’ll have to be more specific, doll...”

You swallowed nervously. The second Kai mentioned the “reward,” you’d already known what exactly you wanted.

“C-can you use your mouth on me? Please?”

The words spilled out of your mouth before he could change his mind or tease you further.

“Hm. You were such a good girl, I think we can arrange that.” he cooed, his breath warm against your lips. Kai gently moved his hands down to your thighs, lifting you up off the ground easily and moving to set you on the table in the room.

“You’ll have to be quiet though... think you can do that for Daddy?”

His choice of words triggered something in your brain, desire dripping into your loins like molten honey. Feeling that familiar pulsating need between your thighs, you nodded. His hands traveled up the length of your thighs until they reached the hem of your dress, drawing out a needy whimper from your lips. Then he pushed it upwards so it bunched up around your waist.

“Good girl. Let’s see just how quiet you can be.”

Swiftly, Kai moved downwards, settling between your legs and spreading them wider. He pressed his nose against the mound of your sex and inhaled deeply, hot breath blowing over your clothed cunt.

“Hmmm, already so wet and I haven't even touched you yet... naughty girl,”

He gave a low chuckle, hooking a thumb under the waistband of your panties.

“Lift your hips for me, I need to get this out of the way.”

You obeyed, allowing him to slide the lacy garment effortlessly to your ankles before tossing it to the ground. Planting both hands on your thighs, he pressed his lips against your sopping folds, eyelashes fluttering as he closed his eyes. At the contact of his tongue, the whole world tilted on its axis. Your hands instinctively found his hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands of his neatly tied man bun.

“That needy, huh?” Kai muttered against your skin, sending vibrations through your body. He gave it a long, flat lick, causing your thighs to tremble slightly against his face.

And just like anything else he set his mind to, Kai was brilliant. He started by exploring his way between your sopping folds, occasionally teasing the delicate bundle of nerves with lazy flicks of his tongue, as wickedly clever as it was when he made speeches in front of hundreds.

The tip of his finger pressed slowly inside you, and despite your best efforts to stay silent, an especially loud moan escaped your lips when he sucked on your clit rather harshly. Kai stiffened in response, pausing to nip sharply at your inner thigh before pulling back. His hair was mussed up; strands of blue falling on his face and you could see your glistening arousal coating his chin as he shot you a warning look.

“Christ, woman. Do you want them to hear you being such a slut?” he chided, but there was a sordid amusement in his tone as he inspected your pussy like an art critic.

“Keep those pretty moans to yourself… I’ll make you scream once we get home.”

Then he ducked his head back down in between your thighs, going back to work with a renewed vigor. Keeping up the ministrations of his tongue, Kai slid one thick finger inside your weeping hole, sinking to the knuckle and curling it in tandem with his tongue. Hips bucking shamelessly into his face, you felt the pressure in your centre build, higher and higher as he continued to work you with his mouth.

“Oh! God– Kai, haah— m’ c-close-”

Head dropping back against the wall, you used the last vestiges of your willpower to keep your moans at a minimum volume. Kai continued to slide his tongue– that skillful, glorious, devilish tongue in and out of your searing pussy, pressing in once he found the sweet spot that made your toes curl and the edges of your vision go blurry.

Faint noises escaped your lips, but it was hard to discern whether they were repetitions of his name or just a stream of incoherent babble. Most likely the latter. It felt as if your brain had short-circuited, with white-hot euphoria coursing through your veins as Kai continued to work his tongue, coaxing out every last drop of pleasure from you. The slurping noises he made as he devoured your pussy were nothing short of obscene and should��ve brought you shame, but you were too blissed-out to care. Once you had come down from your high, Kai pulled away with a satisfied hum, sitting back on his heels and looking up at you.

He rose to his feet, licking his lips as he studied the way your chest rose and fell with your breath. He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before tilting your chin up.

“That pussy of yours is fucking delectable,”

Then he smashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and forcing you to taste your own come.

“Once we’re home and I’m inside you, you won’t need to hold back those moans,”

let’s ignore the shit writing. oh and thank you for sticking to the end pookie, you’re a real one <3

TAGLIST— @burningsinner @evanpetersmybf @alittlesil @kaiandersonsdevotedwife @ellaaaaa44 @newwavesylviaplath @warrenlipkaswife @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @howtobesasha @lissasharp @feefymo @mariposa-nova @nickrhodeslittledarling @bluerthanvelvet444 @r8ttenapples @nahoyasboyfriend @kai-slut @lak3cityqui3tpills @coentinim @doll3tt33 @taintandviolent @violet1737 @sukirosiac @slutforgarlogan @90sbr1descake @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @k31sley @violet-harmon2011 @luuuuucyscorner @starry-eyed-wild-child @viscerati @colinzabelswife @cultw3b @babydollxxblood @evanpeterspeter @dangeroustaintedflawed @evanpetersbf @joshlmbrt @ggenyxxo @evansonlylove @xxfolkloresxx

#what a beautiful thing to wake up to this morning #i actually love this i’m gonna cry #faves

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kaiandersonsdevotedwife · 6 months ago

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you better tell us what satans big balls is about. or was it great balls? what am i saying.

It is about big balls what's so hard to understand

#oh my god idk if i’m just high or something but i can’t stop laughing #holy shitttt

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kaiandersonsdevotedwife · 6 months ago

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james loves fucking you when you're all dressed up. fondles you through your dress and loves how you lipstick smears when you kiss him. he makes you keep your dress on until it's hindering what he wants to do, then he tears the poor thing off of you, ignoring your soft protests. but sometimes, it stays. he lets you sink to your knees with it still on, lets you worship his cock like that. you cover it in whatever lipstick you're wearing and he absolutely adores it. when he's done, he pull you into his lap, pushing your dress up your legs until your pretty cunt is on display and fucks you like that.

#i agree with this post #vote 4 me i condone this message

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kaiandersonsdevotedwife · 6 months ago

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Thrill of the Rush ; James March x reader

summary: Reader is a murderer, coquettish and demure in nature. She brings a man to the Hotel Cortez, and it ends how it always ends for them. The only difference, is that James March is watching her and is enamoured.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 2.6k! | serial killer!reader, graphic descriptions of murder, violence, blood and gore, descriptions of smut, cunnilingus, arousal, kissing/making out.

a/n: requested by anonymous and inspired by Lana Del Rey's Serial Killer song! hopefully this isn't too clunky, or boring in anyway! proofread very briefly, if you see any mistakes, no you didn't.

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you'd like to be notified of future fics!

Elvis’s voice drifted from your speaker. The hotel room was cool, a stark contrast to the hot LA summer outside. The room itself was outdated in decor and architecture, something that you found charming – you’d chosen it specifically for its gorgeous, untouched art deco style. Stephen protested, saying it was rundown and dingy. You shushed him with a single manicured finger and led him inside, heading straight for the hotel desk.

He was a man. A stupid, hungry man who could only think with one head at a time. So, it didn’t take much for you to get up to the hotel room, and onto the bed. You’d let the strap of your dress fall off your creamy soft shoulder, coaxing him closer to you.

He nuzzled his lips into your breast, tugging softly at the skin. He muttered something into your skin, something grotesque, and you didn’t hear him. You were too busy listening to the thud of your own heartbeat – your own excited little heartbeat. You reached into your purse, which had been laying next to you, to retrieve the knife. It was a beautiful thing; pink pearlescent inlay on the handle, and a long, shimmery silver blade.

Raising it high above his head, your elegant fingers gripped the rosy hilt of your knife, and using all your strength, stabbed it into the side of the man's neck. The blade sliced through his skin like butter, giving no resistance. There was nothing like the sensation of killing – it never failed in making your eyes glisten, a cruel fire burning bright within them. Your chest fluttered with excited little breaths, rushing out over your pouting, pink lips in tiny gusts. The thrill, the rush, it was unlike anything you’d ever experienced – even sex. No man had ever made you feel the way killing him did. You twisted the knife slightly.

In response, he gurgled; a delightful sound that had you giggling. You had angled the knife just right, plunging it deep before yanking it out quickly. The blood spurted out in a warm geyser over your hand, trailing down your wrist in crimson ribbons. His hand flew to his neck, pitifully trying to stop the flowing river. You slapped his hand away softly.

"Pl-please..." He murmured, as his body started to droop away from yours.

You bent over, kissing the man on the forehead. As darling as you had been before, maybe even more so then. “Oh, baby…” you whispered, cloyingly sweet and soft like a summer day. He knew that he was going to die, and the begging was futile. Still, he persisted, wet and coughing between each plea.

You pushed him off of your breast, and more blood squirted out, the arteries pumping it out with each beat of his heart. James' dark pupils widened, watching as you worked. He hadn’t made himself known yet, and wouldn’t until you were finished. Nothing should interrupt this delicious display of cruelty.

“Tell me you love me,” you whispered. “Tell me I’m the sweetest girl you’ve ever seen.” He didn’t. He didn’t say anything else… and he never would again.

“Hmph.” Frustrated, you got off the bed, and smoothed your hands over your hips; the satin of your slip dress was warm and soft and provided no friction.

"Seems you've got yourself between a rock and hard place, my dear."

You spun around. In front of you stood a dashing man, dressed to the nines and resting some of his weight on a cane. He was handsome, but possessed a coldness that drew you in. He wasn't like the others.

"How did you get in here?!"

"The door was..." He turned to look at it, casually. "Open."

"No..." You shook your head, soft curls bouncing. Your tone was coy, knowing. "No, it wasn't."

"Ah," he said, tightening his lips into a sly smile. Had his heart been beating, it would’ve quickened at your darling little response. You were quick; a trait that he enjoyed and very rarely saw.

"He deserved it, you know." You looked at the man on the bed with a disproving sourness in your gaze. His body had slumped over the side of the mattress, blood streamed from the gash in his neck to his hairline, staining it red.

"I don't doubt that." He inhaled, stepping further into your room. "However... The problem remains of what to do with him. I presume you’ve yet to figure that out." His voice had your knees weak, turning the tendons to jell-o every time he spoke. It was so deep and croony, like molasses if it had a voice.

"No," you trilled. "No, but you seem like you do."

"I do," he started. There you went with your quick-witted confidence again. "You see, I have built this hotel to satisfy... my every need and whim, whatever they may be. I have a way to dispose of him for you."

Your hand lifted to your shoulder, your finger winding a lock of hair around it. You pursed your lips, as though you were considering his offer. The truth was, you’d already made up your mind. He was dangerous, unafraid, but interested in you. A refreshing change from the rest of the men that you courted and ultimately killed. Besides, he was right. You had a corpse in the room and were unsure what to do with it, besides leaving it and requesting another room, claiming something trivial like the hot water not working.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask, running your tongue along the bottom of your teeth, before coming to rest in the corner of your mouth. "You don't even know me."

"I don't, my little buttercup, this is fact, but what I do know of you, I crave."

Your knees wobbled. Somehow, he’d captivated you. You were never taken by men; they were useless, dumb playthings that you disposed of as soon as you got bored with them. You were never the one that was wrapped around a finger, it was always the other way around. But something… something about this man and the sick, nasty glimmer in his pitch-black eyes had you shivering.

“James March,” he declared proudly, before offering his hand. You placed your own atop his palm, and he leaned down, pressing his lips softly against your knuckles. Your lips tensed, withholding a whimper.

All at once, he closed in the distance between the two of you. Exactly what you wanted him to do, and without asking. You gasped, looking up into his soulless gaze. “Hold me,” you whispered. “Please.”

With a single nod, he enclosed you in a frighteningly firm grasp. You weren’t going anywhere – not that you wanted to.

“I don’t know what you do… or what you’ve done…” you whispered, feeling light in his arms. He held you like old movie stars held their beloved; arms wrapped passionately around the waist, holding you tight at the hip. James waited, on bated breath, for you to finish your sentence. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes, and pressed your soft lips against his. They were cool, and immediately surrendered to yours, parting to exhale into your mouth. As his breath filled your lungs, you succumbed to every feeling he was pulling from you; your legs quivered and pressed together tightly. Your core tightened, and your cunt clenched with arousal. Slick leaked into the silk of your underwear, staining the fabric with your submissiveness.

His head tilted, allowing him to go deeper inside your mouth. His tongue slipped along yours, twirling and exploring the soft, slippery flesh of your mouth. Without breaking the kiss, James walked you backwards, guiding you towards the bed. His shin knocked into the corpse’s head, which lolled lifelessly.

You were at his mercy, and gasping for air, broke the kiss to look down at your feet. Stephen’s eyes were glazed over now, void of life. He had paled, the crimson stark against his bloodless skin. A puddle had settled beneath his head, seeping into the carpet. You broke away from James and bent down, shoving all your weight down on Stephen's shoulders. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in, so he rolled over easily, towards the edge of the bed, which freed up most of the bed for whatever came next.

You immediately snuggled yourself back into James’ arms, nestling against his chest. “There… all better.”

He hmm’ed at the crown of your head, holding you tight. His hips ground against yours, a stiffness pressing into your hip bone. A reminder – he was a man. But not akin to the other men… he was different. You looked up, gazing into his eyes.

James guided you backwards onto the bed, your ass hitting the mattress with a squeak of protest from the old springs. Placing one hand on either side of your hips, he kissed you again, urging you back further yet. He was intoxicating. Everything he did had you quivering like a lamb in the jaws of a wolf – and you wanted more of it. More of everything. You wanted him.

“I love you just a little too much,” you cooed, brushing your lips over his neck. The satin of his ascot brushed against your chin and you longed to feel it tied around your wrists. Your hand brushed along his bulge, feeling the taut fabric that covered it. As the feelings bubbled up inside of you, effervescent like champagne, you couldn’t stand it. No man should ever make you feel the way he did and with a small gasp of air, you reached for your knife again. James caught you fast, holding your wrist in an iron grip.

“I’m afraid not, my dear. You won’t get that pleasure with me.”

“Pleasure?” You asked, doe-eyed, feigning innocence yet again.

“Perhaps another pleasure,” he cooed against your lips, his moustache tickling the flesh under your nose. You were divine… a shining beacon of temptation amongst a sea of poor fools. It had been decades since a woman captivated him the way you did.

James sank to his knees, slowly, as you watched, holding your breath. His hands gathered your satin slip over your knees, and pushed it over your hips, exposing your silken underwear. The wet spot had grown considerably, and James pressed his lips against the damp fabric. The sensation was electric, sending chills up your spine in a wave of unadulterated pleasure. He kissed her again, pressing harder. He could almost taste her through the silk. You whimpered, and let your head drop between your shoulders. He brushed his lips across your mound again, and you got even wetter. For a brief moment, he disappeared and the reaction was painfully visceral.

“Don’t…. Don’t stop…” you said to the ceiling, out of breath and trembling. You could hardly get yourself upright to look at him.

“I’ve no intention of doing so, my dear. None whatsoever.” Carefully, as though unwrapping a delicate gift, James pulled your underwear from your hips, tugging them delicately down your thighs. Murder always got him worked up, but this was an entirely different arousal.

“Let me see her…” he said, low His hands were on your thighs, resting carefully atop of them.

Using your manicured fingers, you reached forward to spread your cunt to him, eagerly, obediently. She glistened in the low-lighting of the room and you heard him inhale. He leaned closer to her and began kitten-licking between your folds, sending a shockwave through your core. She clenched uncontrollably, tightening. James paused to observe, pleased with the reaction. He’d done so little, and you were already a mess. Placing his hands behind your knees, he scooted you further towards him.

Your cunt ached with everything he did; from the gentle touches to the way that his moustache tickled the soft skin of your inner thigh. You weren’t used to your heart beating this quickly outside of killing someone. He was making you feel things you’d long since forgotten.

To say that you never experienced sexual pleasure would be a lie; you did. Usually, covered in blood and panting, after a kill, your body and senses would be so wound up that you’d finger yourself, use a vibrator, something to get yourself off. But this orgasm, you knew, would be different. And much quicker.

With a breath, he flattened his tongue against your cunt, lapping at it hungrily. Your muscles all trembled, the first hint of an orgasm clawing at your insides. And just before you did, he pulled away. Cruelly. Mercilessly. As though he knew that he had you under his spell…. Oh, you’d kill him if he’d only let you.

James slipped two fingers inside your waiting, wet cunt. You let out a desperate yelp, rocking your hips back and forth to meet his fingers. Electricity coursed through your core, your body quivering again. His fingers drilled into you, curling upwards with each thrust, hitting your sensitive spot. The pressure increased, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter around itself. You were close.

“Speak to me,” he ordered. “Use your voice.”

You swallowed, wetting your throat. It was frightfully hard to form words, your mind was too clouded with arousal and ecstasy. “C-can’t…. Feels…. So good….”

James leaned forward again, the tip of his tongue drilling into your sensitive clit, twirling at it. After a moment, he encircled your clit with his lips, sucking softly. You were sweet, wet and singing for him. James hummed into your pussy, satisfied. With his fingers still thrusting inside you, the overstimulation was too much. Your coil snapped, and your hands flew to his hair, making tight fists in the greased locks.

As you orgasmed, you called his name, chanting it over and over again like a prayer. He was there, between your legs, tugging you over the edge with whispered praises against your throbbing cunt. An attentive lover, James didn’t stop fucking you – or licking at you – until the final pulse subsided.

“Now that I’ve made you mine,” he said, straightening up. “Let’s deal with your little hobby, my dear.”

Made you his? You thought, chewing on the corner of your lip, as your eyes bored into his. How dare he – made you his. Despite feeling like you’d been bamboozled, you knew it was true. He’d made you his, and barred you from loving any other man again.

A knock at the door. You looked down at Stephen – you’d almost forgotten he was there. James got to his feet as the door opened, and you noticed that his cock had tented in his trousers, pulling against the fabric, begging for release. You gasped, looking at the woman as she entered. She was pushing a silver room service cart, though it was empty.

“Fret not my dear, it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.”

You furrowed your brows; his erection or a corpse in a hotel room? You weren’t sure which. Effortlessly, James hoisted Stephen’s expired body up onto the cart, waving his hand dismissively towards the woman, who hmm’d curtly, and made her way back towards the door.

“Follow me,” he said, jovially as he headed towards the open door. He began whistling a tune, as though wheeling a body out into the hallway was the most normal, routine thing he’d done all day. Perhaps it was. You heaved a breath, and got up off the bed, pulling your underwear back up.

“James, James, wait!”

He paused.

“Aren’t you going to… well…”

His eyes followed yours to his groin, which was still stiff. You sucked on your bottom lip, looking up at him with come-hither eyes. Curiosity had gotten the best of you. Despite having just come, you wanted more, and you desperately wanted to know what the weight of his cock felt like in your hands.

“Oh.” He smiled, pleased. With a slow nod, he reached forward to cup your chin with his large hands. “I’ll get mine.”

#guys me and him real #this is a true story #and then i yapped to him about true crime

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