Morally Grey

by Lauren Biel

But justice just isn’t swift enough for me. Justice isn’t revenge.

Blood pools beneath her. It isn’t like you see in the movies, however. It isn’t a fast-moving river, and it’s mildly disappointing.

The cost of living continues to increase, but my employers aren’t paying me more.

Desperation drives people to do terrible, unthinkable things.

I shouldn’t be this attracted to a killer.

I have nothing to lose because I have nothing.

Paranoia is just a natural stress response, and I’m fucking stressed.

“You drugged me?” I teeter on the edge of the chair as I try to stand. My hand goes for the gun in my waistband, but my hands are lead. My feet are lead. Everything is fucking lead, and nothing works. “Whoops! You won’t be needing that,” she says as she snatches the gun away from me. “You might want to sit down. That shit hits really fast and pretty hard, and I don’t have what I need to patch you up if you split something open. I mean, I work at a hospital, but I’m no nurse.” Her voice fades as I crumple to the floor. I’ve gone from the frying pan to the fire, and now I’ve transitioned to . . . whatever this is. Maybe turning myself in isn’t such a bad idea. I have no idea what this woman has in store, and I don’t think I want to find out.

What a strange woman I’ve forced my presence upon. She looks positively rabid. Attractive as fuck, but rabid.

My fingers shake as I grip the doorknob to the front door. Fuck, everything shakes. Men in uniform stand outside, and I have a murderer with leg shackles in my basement.

“I want to make something very clear, Briar. The arrangement you believe you have is not the arrangement you have in actuality. My legs may be shackled, but my hands are very much not. If I want to strangle the life from your lungs and snatch that key from your pocket, I will.” He leans closer, until his breath is close enough to send goosebumps over my skin. “You have a tame tiger in the basement. Tame, but not domesticated. You’d do well to remember that.”

“How the fuck was this even useful in the bedroom?” I shrug. “I dunno. I never got to try them. I found out he cheated, and then we broke up before we could use them. Maybe it’s for pleasure delay.” “Pleasure delay?” “Yeah, like edging. If you started beating your dick, I’d shock you each time you got close to coming.” “Wanna try it?” he says, and his hands go toward his pants. With bated breath, I wait for him to reveal his cock. I’m curious, what can I say? Fucking shoot me. But then his jaw drops, and he looks up at me. “You were going to let me pull it out!” “What? No I wasn’t!” I hurry to my feet and start for the door. He laughs behind me, and I hate what that sound does to my insides. “Don’t try to hide it now. You wanted to see my d⁠—”

Stop that. She’s not cute. She abducted you. But must those things be mutually exclusive? Can’t she be both dangerous and adorable?

“I don’t need you to protect me, little psycho.”

We are sold the American dream at a price they know we can’t afford.

“Bring that pussy over here where my mouth is. I’ll have your thighs quivering in no time.”

“Sit on my face, little psycho,” he growls, and the vibration rumbles against me.

I squeeze off his air, and despite the lack of oxygen, he continues devouring me. “You want air, Grey? You want to breathe?” He nods, moving everything against me as he does. “Then make me come.”

He slaps my thigh, and I release the chain. “What?” “You aren’t sitting hard enough. I don’t want to breathe when you release that chain. Fucking sit on my face.” If he wants to die buried in my pussy, who am I to deny his dying wish?

I put my other hand on the headboard and ride his mouth and tongue until I see stars behind my eyelids. Inhuman screams leave my body as he makes me come on his face. Even as he smacks my thigh to let me know he’s suffocating, I can’t stop this orgasm he started. My knuckles whiten as I squeeze the headboard, and the chain wrapped around my hand begins to pinch my flesh. My entire body tenses before relaxing in the most surreal way I’ve never felt. Then I realize he’s digging his nails into my thighs. “Oh, sorry!” I say as I unwrap the chain and lean back so he can breathe. “There’s worse . . . ways to go . . . I guess,” he says through gasps of air.

“This mask gave you the confidence you needed to commit that murder, so it stands to reason that it could help you now, in much the same way. For whatever reason, you think that fucking me is wrong, just like you knew killing that woman was wrong. I want you to put on the mask and repeat history. Make my body a fucking crime scene, Grey.”

“You want a big, bad killer to come inside you?”

“You have fucked-up fetishes,” he says against my mouth. “Don’t kink shame me, asshole. I apologized. You’re the one who went all-in with it. A big, bad killer, huh?” “Shut your pretty mouth,” he says before kissing me again.

I feel safest when I’m inside her, even though being inside her feels so wrong.

“No matter how much I want to, you can’t convince me to stay. I’ve been fighting this every day. Being around you is torture, and I don’t want to be weak.” He turns me around and pulls me against his body until his erection grinds against my ass. “But fuck if you don’t make me weak.”

“Once you make me come again, I’ll pay attention and be a good girl. I promise.”

“I want you to fuck me with it,” she says. I rip off the mask. “Excuse me?” “I want you to put the barrel inside me.” “There are so many safety reasons that⁠—” “I don’t care.”

With a groan, I pull the mask over my face as she moves the crotch of her shorts aside, exposing her sweet little slit. It begs to be filled, but she doesn’t want my cock this time. No, she wants a murder weapon inside her. My murder weapon.

Her chest rises into mine, and she comes around the barrel of my gun. I raise my mask toward my nose because I need to inhale her moans. I need to devour them.

“I want you to choke on my pistol. I want to fuck your throat with this gun while you take my cock in your greedy pussy.

“You keep living. That’s what you do.” I step closer and kneel in front of her, then take her hands in mine. “You don’t live for a man. You don’t live for a house or your freedom. You don’t live for anything other than Briar. No matter what happens, you have to promise me you’ll keep living. Be a thorn in someone’s side, little psycho, even if it’s not mine.”

I get on my knees in front of her and pull her body closer. With my hands around her thigh, I place gentle kisses on the scars near my fingers. I turn her body, replacing every painful bit of abuse with kindness and attention. “You’re beautiful. Your scars are part of that beauty, little psycho. They’re proof that you walked through hell and came out on the other side.” I kiss a long, thick area of raised skin on her ass. I can’t imagine what it must have been like, trying to sit down at work with a wound like this after enduring abuse to the point that it caused you to lose your pregnancy. “Never hide your body from me again.”

“Ride me, little psycho. Fuck me until you force the come out of me. Take it. Take everything you deserve.”

Her perfect pussy squeezes my dick in time with her heartbeat. My arms wind around her waist, and I press my face against her chest as I fill her completely. A mixture of our come slides down my shaft and saturates my balls, but I don’t care. As this unhinged psycho leans back and looks down at me, I don’t know that I’ll ever care about anything else again. Besides her.

As I hold her against me, everything feels right again. If we can just make it onto that plane together, life might actually feel right forever.

“It might take the rest of our lives,” he says, then scoops me into his arms and carries me into the house.