Sierra

T he rapid beating of my heart and the lingering taste of blood as I walk away is the only proof I have left that I wasn't dreaming of that encounter. I just kissed the man I despise, the man that I just witnessed kill a man. I can't even pretend to hate the way that kiss made me feel, the way my pussy wept from the roughness of our kiss had my body come to life in a way that it hasn't before.

My whore of a cunt wanting a man that she shouldn't.

I don't understand the way that I was crawling out of my skin just moments before he appeared, turned into a full-blown need to have his mouth on mine. I momentarily blacked out, that's the only logical explanation to how that kiss felt.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, the private room is elegantly decorated like I stepped foot inside the powder room in ancient Greece. My cheeks are flushed, the slight cut on my lip burns just the right amount to remind me that this truly happened. I trace my lips with my middle and index finger, smearing whatever is left of the red lipstick while I relive those moments once more, just before I shove them behind the door along with the ones that plague my very being.

I just hope that the foundation of that wall hasn't cracked enough to let this memory escape, to allow it to linger. Because feeling what I just felt for a murderer, for my best friend's brother, is just not fucking happening.

Hypocritical, since I've already killed enough to be considered a serial killer, but at least the kills are justified, unlike those that Julian has killed and enjoyed.

Pushing against the sink, I take one last glance at my swollen lips and leave the bathroom, scurrying away like a silent little mouse, straight out of the doors of the Temple without a second glance at Julian's direction.

It doesn't take me long before I get to my car door, the sounds of vehicles passing by are the only music in the night, the city lights dim the beauty of the clear sky. Once I'm safely inside, I finally get the chance to catch my breath, the inhale and exhale I take allows me to clear my mind, even if it's just for a moment.

I gain control, the invisible mask carefully back in place, shielding me from the world and from myself. The smooth leather of the steering wheel causes my palms to sweat more than normal as I turn the car on and begin to drive back to my little dive bar.

The zooming lights pass me every second I get closer to my building. The little dive bar is not only my livelihood but my home. An apartment was created on the upper level by my mother, back in the day, it was mostly a place for her to sleep when she was too exhausted or too drunk to even watch me. It's late by the time I park behind the building, the bar was closed hours ago by Mika. She's been the ultimate life saver, although Catalina is my best friend, Mika quickly became one too. The fearlessness radiates around her, like she wasn't afraid of anything. Like she's already hit rock bottom and has been climbing her way back up the darkest depths of hell.

I admire her more than she can realize. I envy the way she doesn't have to hide behind a fake persona, a fa?ade, pretending she's okay when parts of her are not. Or maybe that's just what she projects. Mika has gone through shit, it's evident with the scar leading from her forehead down to the bottom of her hazel eyes. She's beautiful, and has completely adjusted to life here. She had stepped up while I was abducted, she even tried to have me stay upstairs when I came home, but I wouldn't listen. My thoughts infiltrated my mind to the point I could think of nothing but a revenge that I knew I couldn't have. So, I returned to work, returned to keeping myself busy while I died a little inside.

Quickly walking to the doors, I cautiously unlock them and get inside. I'm constantly on the lookout when I'm alone, always feeling like dead men will come back and make me relive my nightmares. Once I'm inside I lock the doors with a loud exhale, my hands still shake as I try to regulate my breaths. With the wall as my support I glide down until my ass reaches the floor.

Breathe.

With trembling hands, I take out my phone and call Ryan. I don't understand what happened earlier tonight. Why was Julian even there?

"I was expecting a call much earlier," he answers nonchalantly.

"So, you knew Julian was going to show up and take my kill away? Did you do this on purpose because that was really shitty of you." I scoff, gripping onto the phone a little harder.

"I had steered him there, but I was thinking you could help each other out. He's more experienced, and could have taught you a thing or two. He mentioned that he didn't see you though which was surprising."

"Seriously, Ryan. Why the fuck would I ask the man I despise to help me? You're in-fucking-sane," I say a little louder, my voice still sounds frightened as I try to gather all the courage and energy I have to make it upstairs to my bedroom.

"Look, it would help you stay protected from law enforcement. And he has cleaners that can do the dirty work for you. It just pays to have someone like that on your side. Besides, there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you… For Catalina, of course."

My eyebrows arch in curiosity at the comment but don't dwell on it too long, because he's right. I'm sure that he would do anything for her. Shrugging, I finally stand up and wipe off whatever dust and sand that was on the floor off my legs and turn towards the kitchen area where the door to my upstairs apartment lies.

The moment I close my bedroom door, I take the black four-inch pumps off my feet and slowly make my way to my bed.

"Whatever, Ry, just next time warn a girl that I'll have company. I don't want his help, but if you must send him again, can you just tell me?" I say, filling the silence between the clicking that comes from his line.

"Probably won't. You'll just have to expect the unexpected." He chuckles and abruptly hangs up. What an ass.

Letting myself fall on the bed, I reach over my head patting around a few times until I can reach one of the many pillows I own and cover my head and scream into it as loud as I can. I fling it onto the floor as I stare at the white ceiling. My thoughts drift to dark whiskey eyes, who seem to have made a permanent place in my mind.

Biting my swollen bottom lip, I sit up on my elbows and look around the room like someone is just waiting for me to do what I've been thinking about since his lips met mine. I quickly stand, grab my trusty blue rose from my bedside drawer and walk towards my full-sized mirror in the corner of my very bland room.

I slowly pull down the zipper on the side of my dress until it meets the end, and I watch as my dress falls to the floor, pooling around my bare feet. The beautiful black sheer lingerie with delicate embroidery that matches the garter belt and straps are the only pieces of fabric I have on my body. The blue of my eyes is a little darker than most days, my smeared red lipsticks seem to be the same shade as the pink on both my cheeks and neck. The gentle caress of my trembling fingers stops at the fresh finger marks already starting to bruise from the forcefulness that Julian had with me.

I turn my head away from the mirror, admiring the three dark red bruises marking my skin. Tracing the spots, I think about the way he bit my lip, the way the blood mixed with our drinks created a flavor that I crave to taste again.

I don't stop my movements, knowing full well I should but it's the first time since I was abducted that I've felt this ache in my core. My pussy is wet and my clit is throbbing for some sort of relief. The smallest touch on my sensitive skin has my knees practically buckling from under me. Carefully, I start backing away from the mirror until the back of my legs touch the corner of my king-sized bed. Taking a seat, I lean back enough to get both legs on the mattress and spread them as wide as I can. My eyes never leave the mirror, while I move the already damp lace panties to the side.

I turn on the lowest setting of my rose, I'm already soaking wet. Rubbing a small circle on my clit with one hand, I tease myself just for a moment until I decide to add in the sucking motion from my toy right over my clit and tease my entrance with my fingers for another small moment.

I close my eyes picturing the man I hate underneath me; I imagine his mouth on my clit as I grind my cunt on his filthy tongue. I imagine putting my entire weight on his face as I use him as my own personal fuck toy. I circle my hips as I add another finger, and then another. My pussy stretches, accommodating three fingers while I quickly fumble one handed with the rose to turn up the setting.

The loud hum of the rose speeds up once and then twice until it's at the setting that I want it in. I move my hips, chasing the movement of my toy and fingers, the sensation has my body on fire, and my mind on him .

My pussy is pulsing the quick thumps of my heartbeat as I get closer to the edge of my orgasm. I stay tethered to the edge for what feels like a few excruciating hours until I hold my breath. Restricting myself of any air, the lack of oxygen turns the excruciating feeling to one of pleasure until I fall right over the top and down to a sea full of stars.

Lying back on the mattress, I slowly lower my legs as my arousal drips onto the comforter.

"Fuck," I whisper softly, letting go of the rose on the mattress. I lay there in silence before a small chuckle leaves my lips.

My body isn't broken, I am not broken .

My eyes begin to water at the relief, at the pain of every despicable act my body has already endured in twenty-nine years.

I don't bother getting ready for bed, instead, I move my body higher on the mattress and curl up with my many pillows. I let myself cry for the first time since my abduction, the tears fall easily now.

I am not broken.