Wicked Pens Writing Prompt Dangerous

A short writing prompt (dangerous) for a writing group I’m part of turned into a bit of a short story!  Warning, NSFW.  (im going to edit it to be even more so, later. )

 

 

Eyes closed, she breathed in, slowly, deeply.  The popping of the bubbles in the drink just under her nose tickled, bringing the various herbal odors in fits and starts, slowly filling her lungs.  Regina always enjoyed the smell of the flowery drink that was the main item served at the eponymous bar, before finally sipping it.  The taste of the Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing never lived up to the promise of its smell, though it certainly was a wolf as it ran howling through your system.

 

Raising the glass to her lips, another scent filtered into her nose. A dangerous scent. A predator’s scent, but overlaid with a soft smell, lavender, perhaps. A smell that deserved the same name as her drink. Several long slow gulps later, she lowered her cup and looked to her right.

 

He was scanning the room slowly, while appearing to be conversing with the bar tender. A shared laugh, and a delivered drink, a shot, not the mixed drink held by most hands in the room. He sipped it, and she felt herself flush at the flex of the muscles in his jaw as he smiled, enjoying the slow burn.  Freshly shaved, with a chin that was present without being pointed.  A Roman nose, crooked in the middle, well trimmed hair, the bare start of a receding hairline, and arms tightly bound in his shirt, a build that looked like it had more to due with regular heavy use, not time spent at the gym. She caught herself from licking her lips.  He looked as delicious, as potentially dangerous, as he smelled.

 

He turned and caught her staring, his eyes widening and lips curling to a slight smile. His gaze drifted slowly down and back up, and he finished his drink with a gulp.  He stood and walked, each step deliberate, like he was climbing the floor towards her.  She grinned at his stalking motion, so deliberate, so obvious, and so so effective.

 

Standing over her, he spoke, teeth perfectly white and polished, voice deep without being threatening, but rumbly, a roar held in restraint.  “You’re not actually drinking that fruit juice and tea masquerading as a drink, are you?”

 

Regina met his gaze, and deliberately sipped from her glass while holding his eyes in her own. She set the empty cup down, and slowly licked the last crimson drops from her lip, an action that brought a smile to his eyes.  Green, with webs of gold, she saw now.  Pupils taller in the middle than they were wide, a subtle difference that most people wouldn’t see, unless they were looking for it. Which, of course, she was.

 

“I like the way it smells. ”  She stood, taking a step closer, nose just barely between that delectably kissable chin and the pressed collar of his shirt. She took a slow breath in, the musk and flower splitting in her nose, the spice taking shape, prickling her nose like tiny claws. “I like the way YOU smell.”

 

He glanced down, his vision filled with her ear, sliding down into her long neck.  Her own musk filtered up, and he took a quick sniff as he watched her pulse flutter against the tightness of the skin of her neck.  The smell made him think of rabbits and snow, and he could feel his body tensing in anticipation.  “You smell quite nice yourself. That’s an odd way to say hello, however.”

 

She stepped back, upper teeth lightly chewing on her lower lip as she appraised him. He watched her body shift subtly, arms moving apart and away from her body, hips swiveling into a looser stance as her body language betrayed the inner decision her mind had just made.

 

“Hello then.  Look, lets be honest.  I’m not here to get drunk. Not on liquor, anyway.”

 

“To be honest, neither am I. The prices are bit much and I prefer flavors I can…. savor, on my tongue.”

 

“Well, shall find someplace else where we can… drink?”

 

He grinned broadly, and took her shoulder in hand, leading her to the door.  His fingers flexed against her flesh, the power in them evident even as he handled her softly, with care.  The feeling of strength in his hand and arm thrilled her, the quiet alarm in the back of her mind growing almost imperceptibly louder. Outside the bar,  he flagged a taxi and opened the door for her.  She slid in first, he quick after, his hand on her thigh.

 

The driver rolled his eyes at the display of lust behind him. “Where to folks?”

 

He looked hungrily at her, squeezing her thigh as her own hand grasped his wrist, slowly guiding it higher on her leg. “What is the old line, your place or mine, …”  He paused for a moment. “In all the rush, I was rude enough to not even ask for your name!”

 

“Regina, and you?”

 

“Walter.”

 

Regina giggled.  Too perfect.  “Walter the wolf, are you?”  He tensed a moment at her words, but muscles softened as she stroked her fingers along his chin, drawing his face closer to hers.  “Are you hungry like the wolf, Walter?”  She drew him in, and their lips met, parted.  His tongue darted into her mouth, a pressure against her, inside her, a promise of more pleasure to come.  He tasted of rare steak and cinnamon, and his teeth were sharp against her own tongue, the alarm of danger raising another decibel in her mind as he devoured her in play.

 

As they slowly drew apart, he answered, the hidden rumble in his voice coming to the forefront, the roar of desire barely held back.  “You have no idea.”

 

“Ahem.  Lovebirds.  Address?”

 

Regina looked up and snapped out an address, and the cab went into motion as the pair dove back into each other.  Walter drew his teeth slowly across her neck, drawing a gasp from Regina as she wrapped one arm around his back and buried the fingers of her other hand into his short black hair.

 

The kissed and teased, Walter turned so that he faced her, one leg between hers, a hand pushing on her shoulder, crushing her against the seat. Again, she could feel more strength in him than his physique should allow, and knew she was in trouble. She delighted in that feeling, the tenseness across the back of her neck as his wet lips traced across the front.

The taxi stopped suddenly, the driver honking and swearing. The couple came forward away from the seat, then Walter pushed  without thought, slamming her roughly back into the fake leather bench.

The driver peeked in the rear view. “Hey, Samson, you break it, you buy it.”

Worry filled his eyes. “Sorry Regina, you okay?”  He looked to where his hand caught her shoulder, and realized he was gripping hard enough that her skin between her fingers was turning white.  She struggled for a moment against the hand, failing to free herself from his grip, before he loosened it.  Her face fought between panic and ecstasy before devolving to disappointment as her shoulder came free.

 

“I’m fine.  You’ll have to try harder to break me.”

 

He smiled, bringing his lips lower on her chest, nuzzling at the line between dress and skin.  She caught something mumbled, ending with, “by the pound.”

 

The cab stopped, and Walter fumbled with his wallet, the pocket obviously held tightly closed by the straining of his erection. Sliding it free, he threw several bills at the cab, and slid out backwards, pulling Regina with him and popping her out of the car.  The door slammed, the cab peeled away, and Regina looked around.

“DAMNIT!”

 

Walter stopped, his hand already dragging upwards at her dress hem. “What’s wrong?”

 

“That bastard dropped us off a block away.  C’mon. ”  She dragged at his hand, pulling him into an alley leading between the two rows of small houses.

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“Shortcut.”

 

He stumbled along behind her, amused.  “I would follow that delightful ass anywhere, but is this safe?”

 

She came to a cross roads of alleys, and darted left, then right.

“Damnit!” She tried a door, and it failed to open, latched from the inside.  “Okay, this way. And of course it’s safe!  I’ve got Walter the wolf with me. ”

 

She pulled him close for a kiss, her hand popping a button of his shirt, sliding against his chest in the newly made hole.  He pulled away briefly, looking around at the alcove of cinder block walls that hid them from view. “Pretty private place right here, come to think of it, my delightful little snack.”  His tone slowly changed as he spoke, and the warning bells in the back of her mind turned to claxons.  DANGER DANGER!

 

She smiled hesitantly, looking around.  “Yes, well, I want you in my bed. Lets…  go?”  Her voice turned to a squeak as his hand slowly wrapped around her throat. He slammed her back into the wall, and she saw stars as her head bounced off the cinder blocks.

 

His voice burst out in the promised roar, long held back. “I think I want you right here.  Every last morsel. ”  His face shifted slightly, nose lengthening, teeth growing.  His skin changed hue, the lightly tan Mediterranean skin turning into rings of light and dark.  His hand slid from her neck down her arm, his other hand grabbing the opposite wrist.  He lifted her, the cinder block scraping against her back, her arms held out wide.

 

She could feel the needle like claws he now had puncturing her skin.  Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath came hot and fast as her mind convulsed with fear.  She could feel the adrenaline rising with a host of other neurotransmitters, the fight or flight response pegged on the far end of flight.  She struggled against him, but his fingers were like iron bands.  In the dim back of mind, she thought to scream, but as her mouth opened wide to breath, he clamped his muzzle over her mouth, long tongue now raspy and scraping across her tongue and teeth. She felt herself drowning in fear, the danger facing her palpable, pulsing, thudding in her ears.

And she reveled in it.  She could barely keep from pissing herself, and she never felt more alive. The cocktail of homemade drugs in her system eeked sweat out of every pore, and Walter’s nose expanded rhythmically as he smelled the fear leaching out of her. He let go of her mouth, and pulled back to look her in the eyes.  Glass eyed and cowed, she looked up into his own, the slight peaks now full blown oval pupils, the gold streaks glowing in the darkness.  The panic rose to a fever pitch, and she felt her body tense in pleasure, as the world darkened around her, grey mist filling in everything she saw but his eyes.  And just when she couldn’t stand any more, as gasps of panic fought her throat with moans of pleasure, the orgasm racked through her body, and every switch in her set to flight, flipped.  Endorphins rushed to opposing settings, the fear evaporated.

 

With a flip of her arms, the hands that had pinned her to the wall crashed together.  She swung her fingers around, talons piercing his wrists. Even as her feet hit the ground, she lifted, and a turn and step reversed their positions. Her steel claws pushed through his flesh, into the cinder block wall, and Walter screamed hoarsely.

 

“Thank you Walter!  You are quite the frightening brute.  I haven’t been scared like that in years. ”  Her own elongated jaws nipped at his neck, drawing drops of blood.  She licked them from her lips, a parody of the motion she had made to lure him in, earlier in the evening.

 

“I am a bit peckish as well, but, I DID go to that bar to get laid.”  She kicked off one pump, and with her leg now twisted and furry, joints moving in ways no human leg could, she brought up a clawed paw to his crotch, slicing denim like it was tissue paper.  As she pulled away his clothes, she kissed him, chewing on his tongue until blood ran like wine. Pulling back from his mangle face, she pushed her body up against his, still pinned to the wall.

In a low tone, she whispered into his pointed ear. “By morning, you will fill my belly, but lets see of you can’t fill anything else before I kill you. “

Cicada’s Promise

Three nights ago, the wind blew with fervor,

And red brown dust darkened the air,

I watched close my porch, a keen observer,

By dawn, not a drop landed there.

 

Two nights ago, Zeus’s chariot rolled,

As flash after spark lit the night,

Thunder shook, it promised, it told,

Of rain still absent by first light.

 

Last night, I could feel it in chest and bones,

My nose filled with Nature’s rutting,

She teased, till I prayed to Maiden and Crone,

On blue skys the sun woke strutting.

 

Tonight my ears with an Oracle fill,

A sweet song to this desert rat,

The first cicada buzzes on my sill,

A concert of hundreds, heavy and fat.

 

A prophecy made by that droning sound,

Whispers in the dark a promise,

By the next day’s twilight, rain will be found,

Believe, and don’t be a Thomas.