Tattoos.
Dried blood on my chest and abs.
A scar through my eyebrow that made me look harder than I really was.
I looked like a real living, breathing monster. He wasn’t just in my head anymore. This was very much real.
I hated my reflection almost as much as I hated myself. With one swift fist, I punched the glass, causing it to shatter and spider web my face into broken pieces, just like me.
Her whole body flinched with the glass jar of Oreos still clutched under her arm and the gun in her hand. Thankfully, the safety was on, and she didn’t have an overreacting trigger finger.
“Grimm?”
With my fists pushing into the countertop, my head dipped, trying to hide any emotion visible.
The truth and being transparent didn’t apply to my emotions. That fell under personal and off limits.
“Abigail…” I didn’t look up.
“It’s just a lot to take in. I don’t know what to say…”
“You don’t need to explain, Abigail. I’m a monster. Full transparency.”
I felt her move closer, even though I wasn’t giving into looking up. “Being a monster and acting like one are two different things.”
Letting her pull my eyes towards her, I found my hands on her hips and my own pinning her against the countertop. Abigail wasn’t a cure for the kind of person I was… She was the placebo helping me survive it.
“What if it isn’t two different things?”
Watching her unbutton her shirt, I felt my thumbs making circles, like I could rub away the fabric between us. “You aren’t a very good actor, even with your method approach.”
I watched her hands move to the button on her jeans, but I grabbed her hands, stilling her once again. “Let me wash this off.”
“Don’t.” She bit her lip, looking at me hungry again—at me, covered in blood.
Leaning into her, I pulled her shirt down only enough to expose her shoulders and simple white bra. No lace or frills or even a bow in the middle. This was practical and very Abigail, making even a bra only be purposeful instead of a pleasing view.
Whispering against her neck, making sure my breath against her skin felt brutal, I asked, “Find yourself a kink?”
The shirt fell to her elbows, restraining her the way that aroused me, even though I didn’t need any pain when it came to Abigail. I wasn’t offering much relief when her hands touched my blood covered chest. She drove her hands right into my ugly, and this time, she didn’t stumble.
“Maybe… it’s more like the kink is you. I can’t explain it. You don’t treat me like everyone else. You want nothing from me. You don’t sugarcoat anything.”
“Do you need a safeword?” The words melted off my lips right onto her smooth shoulder. I needed a definitive answer this time, as the nervousness I hadn’t felt in years pumped through my veins and made my hands shake.
I felt her tense up in my hands, still holding onto her hips, when I questioned if she was even really here.
I didn’t know if it was my meds or the new habit of drinking at the worst times possible, but reality had been breaking just like the mirror behind her. Cracking, sharp at the edges, and altering everything in this twisted way that made me question if I even liked what was staring back at me.
Divulging information wasn’t my strong suit, and admitting you are hallucinating to your brothers or family wasn’t really an option without being put down. Broken toys, broken people, broken things… They only had one place, and you were sent there with a bullet between the eyes.
Abigail had to be real. I could feel her, smell her, taste her on my lips, but I had sworn at the estate, it felt just as real. Now I was questioning everything, even what I didn’t ever want to: her.
“Like sprinkles or caramel fudge tracks? What kind of flavor are we talking about? I’m normally vanilla…”
And just like that Abigail shows up in ways my brain can’t make up enough to make me feel safe. This wasn’t artificial; it was real.
Dipping my hand into her undone jeans, I licked her neck before I spoke, creating a sensation I knew would give her goosebumps. “Tell me what I can’t do, Abigail. Tell me you won’t enjoy whatever I choose to do to you… that’s how hungry you look right now.”
My fingers slid down between her legs easily when I found out exactly how wet she was. Using the pads of my fingers, I found her bud when she sunk down onto my hand, already taking what she wanted.
Using my other hand, I tore the cup of her bra down, exposing her hard nipples pushing through the material. Her shirt was still at her elbows and jeans were flapping open. I got even harder for her in this contorted position still chasing my fingers.
Another wave of nerves hit me, pushing me to the edge and reflecting the web of broken glass, when I heard her whine into my chest as I took my hand back. Pulling down the shirt off her arms, I took in every stray freckle complimenting her bronzed complexion with the few shades darker on her perfect California tan.
Her chin tilted up, and I felt her almond eyes follow my hands as I tugged on her hips letting them crash into me. Her already swollen lips looked too perfect when she whispered between our still bodies, “What’s wrong?”
“You’ll think I’m crazy…” Her hands were tight on my forearms; she kept me close, like she knew I would pull away.
“Only now? Grimm you are crazy. Crazy is my new favorite kink.” Lifting up on the balls of her feet, her lips pressed against mine in a nipping way, daring me to kiss her the way that wasn’t teasing anymore.
Pushing my hands into the back pocket of her jeans I held her to me. “Tell me you’re really here.”
Abigail liked a challenge.
Shimmying out of her bra, I watched her closely as she exposed her breasts for me without any shame. She had the most perfect tear-drop breasts I had ever seen to match her round ass I could feel in my hands when I squeezed.
“Does this look real, Grimm?” I could tell she wanted to be sexy in a way I could appreciate. I could tell she was still nervously overthinking what a guy like me would find sexy, when she bit the inside of her cheek, waiting for me to reply.
Biting the outside of her lip was too obvious for my girl.
Pushing her hair back off her neck and shoulder, I leaned down, biting the muscle between her neck and shoulder, hard but not hard enough to scare her. With another lick to sooth the burn, I whispered into her, “You always look real when I imagine you. I just need to be sure.”
Her moan radiated on my skin, crawling everywhere leading to my crotch. We were both on fire and choking on the fumes.
“Grimm…” Her strained voice begged for more. I was shocked she’d beg at all.
My hand slipped inside her panties once more. It was the safe bet. It was boundaries and transparency mixing together.
She palmed my crotch, pawing at my raging hard on caged up in my boxer briefs that were still on. Her delicate touch felt feather light, but at the time I could feel her fingers tracing my length with some pressure. It wasn’t enough to provide any real relief. That didn’t matter when her pussy was this slick and sensitive to my touch.
Still covered in blood, with my mirror shattered behind her, my fingers rubbed exactly where I knew wouldn’t take long to make her shake with an orgasm.