We Are Both in the Dirt

"You only live once," Mira says as she peels away her shirt. She falls back into the bed and gazes at his reflection in the mirrored ceiling as his hands caress her legs, his black nail polish shining in the light. She closes her eyes and tries to slow her fast beating heart.

"Not if I can help it," Maven says with his lips against the skin of her thigh. "I've waited for this for such a long, long time," he says.

She reaches up and touches the wall with her fingertips as he palms her breasts and digs his thumbs into them, grazes his teeth against her nipples.

"Will you be able to take it all?" he asks. When she opens her eyes his cock is suspended above her, thick, long, veiny. The skin on the tip is tight and red.

He opens and closes a hand around her neck. His grip is not nearly tight enough to cause her panic but serves as a strong suggestion of what is to come. A flutter of uncertainty crests and dies in the pit of her stomach.

"I like your panties," he says pulling the crotch of them away from her skin and sliding his thumb inside of her. "How does that feel?" He asks.

"Good, so good," she breathes.

"That's what I like to hear," he says. He pulls his thumb out and he lifts her legs so that her knees graze her ears. The tickling warmth of his breath precedes the invasion of his tongue into her center. As she comes, her mind wanders where she doesn't want it to. She sees Mint's face and then inevitably, Mandrake's.

"I'm going to ruin you," Maven says before he finally stuffs himself inside of her. His thrusts are piston-like and too strong for a man of his size. She can appreciate the pain, however, which is a good thing because he's causing her plenty. She finds that she can't catch her breath. His gaze is sharp, focused. She looks away.

"On your knees," he says in a voice so husky it is unrecognizable.

He slaps her ass as she complies, her legs nearly giving out on her. She holds onto the headboard as he climbs on top of her and continues his onslaught.

She thinks of Mint again and the way he'd felt mere hours previous. She'd taken Mint's impressive length and girth in stride. There'd been only pleasure and the pressure of his body, the perfect sensation paired as it was with the rough scrape of his chest hair against her breasts. She climaxes to memories of his smell, the feel of his tongue as his warm mouth enveloped her, devoured her.

Despite the sharp and ever-present pain in her head she does not regret missing her surgery appointment. She has grown so afraid of having the surgery that leaving things in limbo is all that brings her any peace. It is much easier to pulse around Maven's violent member than lay vulnerable beneath a surgeon's knife.

Foremost are thoughts of mortality and of course, Mint. The guilt is crushing. She can't shake it. It is like a rock in her gut. She is more aware of it than the pain in her head. She takes a sudden and clumsy lunge for Maven's handgun which is on the bedside table. She misses it, and when Maven realizes what she's done he pulls out of her and holds her firmly against him, restrained.

"Having a change of heart?" He hisses in her ear.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she yells.

He wrenches her by the hair so that her neck is exposed and his still heavy and hard cock is digging into the crack of her ass. She is ashamed of how she presses back against it, wanting it again in spite of it all.

Maven retrieves the gun from the nightstand in an easy reach. He places the barrel at the back of her neck and enters her again without a word. She collapses onto her face at the invasion and he keeps the gun tight against her neck. She moans.

"It's like I always imagined," Maven says. His voice is even, matter of fact. He isn't even out of breath despite the ferocity of his thrusts and she moans again, on the edge of climax. "You're wetter than before," he says.

She hears a click as he engages the safety and she is nearly disappointed. Nearly.

"I knew we'd have a good rhythm. The moment I laid eyes on you I knew we'd fuck this way. I knew that one day you'd be soaking me with this sweet, warm, tight pussy of yours," he says right before she feels his warm cum running in then out of her and down her leg. He falls away from her as if incapacitated and the gun is again in reach.

"Don't move motherfucker," she says once she has it in her hands. She leaps from the bed, is unsteady on her feet. She can still feel the tickle of a slow fading orgasm between her legs. She knows then, as if she didn't know it before, that she loves Mint more than life itself. Maven Mikowski is a spectacular and exciting lay. In a different world, under different circumstances, she would sate her appetite for more of the same.

"You have to be kidding me!" Maven says, laughing and rolling over onto his back. "You told me to kill them by any means necessary. That's what I did. What you paid me to do," Maven says with the smile still on his lips. He rises from the bed, one solid footfall after the other. She backs away.

"You are so beautiful that I forgive you for this shit you're pulling," he says. "I already forgive you. Now come hop back on," he says with a couple of obscene jerks on his cock.

"Maven, what did you do with them?" she pulls the trigger and he ducks. The bullet buries itself into the wall behind him. He laughs loud and hearty now.

"This is such a fucking laugh! You tell me that you want them dead no matter how much you tried to stop me. Remember that?"

"I remember," she says.

"You said you were going to try and stop me from fulfilling the contract every step of the way because you were so torn over the decision. Said I was to take care of them by any means necessary even if you took great pains to stand in my way. I did what you said and now, because you're a fickle psycho bitch, you're trying to kill me. Look at yourself!"

She happens to catch a glance of herself in the mirror beside the bed. She is gaunt. She can think of no other word to describe it. She finds it peculiar that Maven is oblivious to the fact that she has become a pale imitation of her former self.

She fires again, this bullet goes wild as her vision flickers in and out. Maven lunges for her and tackles her to the ground. She manages to fire again in the struggle and he cries out as if hit though she doesn't know where.

She wriggles from beneath him and heads for the door, manages to grab her purse as she dashes from the bedroom and nearly falls down his prized spiral staircase. She doesn't miss a step and she can't afford to as he is so close she can feel his breath on her neck as he laughs.

She slides into her car and starts it, backs away in a crescendo of squealing tires as a naked, bloody Maven Mikowski chases her, his gold teeth shining in the sun. He scowls and curses her name and slaps the hood of her car like a gorilla.

She speeds backward down his long driveway and swings out into the street. As she makes her escape she pulls out his phone-which she'd grabbed and shoved into her purse almost as an afterthought.

She checks the last location in his GPS with hopes this will send her in the right direction. She wonders, as she struggles to hold on to consciousness, what brand of torture M&M delivered to the Murder Twins this bright sunny afternoon.