Kiss Me Kill Me | By : gothicpixie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > MEST Views: 663 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of MEST. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Brooke always did make herself such an easy target.
And she knew it, too. She knew that the way she’d inadvertently hang on every word he said, the way her eyes would inadvertently light up every time he’d enter the room, the way her skin would inadvertently tingle every time he touched her, that she made herself an easy target.
But despite that, she never expected to be taken advantage of.
The way he would look at her sometimes, his deep brown eyes shining with what seemed to be adoration, would absolutely melt her heart. The way his voice would lower during conversation whenever he was addressing her sounded more beautiful than any song she’d ever heard. He had always been so honest with her, telling her the truth rather than what she wanted to hear, which was part of what had attracted her to him in the first place.
She didn’t realize how blind she was.
“Hey!” he called after her one night, as she made her way from whatever random venue they were playing to a van that was waiting to take her and the guys to a local hotel.
“What Benji?” she called, trying not to sound as anxious with all the kids around.
As they moved on from down to where he was standing after she signed for them he almost started to scowl. “I need to talk to you when we get to the hotel,” he finally called out. He was refraining from being too friendly with her; too many fans around.
Confused, she shouted back to let him know it was cool before again attempting the now hazardous journey from where she stood to the van that waited across the street. Signing autographs, taking pictures, giving hugs when asked, these things came with the territory, and as much as she appreciated fans she’d be lying if she said they didn’t annoy the living Hell out of her. Especially moments like that one, when it took an escort from one of the security guards to get to the van.
When she finally made it to safety she found that her brother, Billy, was waiting patiently for the others. Times often wondered how he made it back so easily, but the time for questions would come later. She could already see them forming on his lips and was in no mood to answer him just yet as her gaze wandered out the tinted window.
Benji was taking his sweet time, it seemed. As girls repeatedly asked him for hugs he obliged, and he must have hugged a couple of those younger ones two or three times before they would finally let him move on to the next group of kids, that always seemed to be only a couple feet in front of him. And when he finally got into the van, he sat down next to Brooke, smiled at her as he slid his arm around her shoulders, and then cracked “Remind me to never be the last one out of the show again.”
She was on pins and needles as she made the way up to his hotel room. He had been the lucky one to escape the night without a roommate. Unfortunately she had once again been stuck with her brother. And he wanted to talk to her in private, so his room it was.
Her mind began to race with ideas of what he could possibly want to talk about. They had been dating for nearly a year now. Granted they had never had sex, but he said he would wait for her; until she was ready Oh God, this was it, she thought, he’s breaking up with me.
He opened the door slowly, allowing her to enter first, and then granting silent permission to sit down on the bed. After taking off his hoodie and revealing the tattooed frame that she had wanted for so long, clad in black that made his skin stand out that much more and made him that much more attractive to her, he closed the door behind him, locking the deadbolt.
He sat down beside her nervously, and the sudden unease about him made Brooke even more uncomfortable. Biting her lip she was tapping the toe of her Converse covered feet against the floor.
“Sorry to kind of spring this on you baby,” he began, looking at the floor rather than at you. “But I have to ask a question.”
She swallowed, harder than she had wanted to. “Go for it,” she replied, calm despite the inner insanity.
He continued to look down at the floor for a few more seconds, as if trying to memorize the pattern or the carpet, before looking up at her. His chocolate brown pierced her crystalline blue eyes as he asked her the one question she never wanted to have to answer, anxiety hanging on every syllable. “Brooke... are you attracted to me anymore?”
She wanted to laugh and pretend it was a sick joke. But something about those amazing brown eyes made it so she could never lie to him, and unfortunately this was no exception. “Yes, Benji. I’ve always been attracted to you.”
He nodded, standing up and walking towards the window, facing away from her. For the first time in years she couldn’t read his body language, the one time she needed to the most. He stood there, seemingly staring out the window, as she couldn’t help but watch in silence. He sighed, almost inaudibly, but it wasn’t exactly the kind of sigh she had been hoping for. It wasn’t happy, or content, or even scared. It was more angry, and suddenly she began to wish she were anything but alone with him, contemplating getting up and leaving while he was distracted with his thoughts instead of waiting to see what was going to happen next.
Before she had a chance to act on her intentions, he spun around, and without warning lashed out at her, striking her so hard across the side of the face that she almost fell off the bed. And before she had a second to recover, he grabbed her wrists in his hands and forced her down to the bed, straddling her and looking down into hers, his eyes were more fire than anything. “You never could lie well,” he hissed, continuing to stare almost through her as she lay there, too stunned to even try to fight back. “You’re such a damn tease and you know it, Brooke! You walk around in these skimpy little outfits and tell me how much you love me, but when it comes to the one thing that I want you’re never ready. Well I’m sick of waiting. I’m going to get what I want, my way.” With that final growl, he smashed his face down into hers, their lips meeting harshly as his hands continued to hold her in place.
Despite the mass of emotions that were running through her mind, instinct took over and she kissed back hungrily, pleasure filling her as his tongue lapped at her bottom lip practically begging for her to open her mouth to it. She parted her lips, and his tongue slowly found its way. The kiss wasn’t passionate, at least not on his part, but it was heated, impassioned, and for some reason it really turned her on... until she felt the painful jolt of his teeth clamping down on her lip, and tasted the cold metallic taste of her own blood.
The sudden pain shocked her, and as Brooke attempted to sit up and react he removed a hand from her wrists and shoved her body backwards, causing her to slam her head hard against the cheap brass headboard of the bed. Everything went blurry as she slid down to the pillows, nothing registering except for the pain, where it hurt, and why it hurt. Through the daze she felt Benji doing something, felt her arms moving against her will, and felt a sudden tightness around her wrists. His hands found their way to her chest as his tongue found its way to her neck, and for a second the daze faded into delight. But again, the feeling of his teeth clamping down caused her to cry out. In another attempt to react by pushing him away she discovered she couldn’t move her arms.
“Be...Benji?” she asked, suddenly unsure if this was the same man that she had called her boyfriend for the last year or not. And the cold laugh that answered wasn’t reassuring. Once again he straddled her, this time his hands tugging at the thin material of her shirt as he tore it in two.
Still smiling, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lip, licking it afterwards to try and pick up any of the blood that still lingered. “You’ll love this when I’m through with you,” he whispered sadistically, and another chill ran through her body as he reached up and removed the black bandanna from her left wrist. Running it along her arm he refolded it, and then cupped her chin almost lovingly. “All I ask is that you listen to me, it will make things a lot less painful.” Then, he removed his hand and laid the bandanna across her lips, pulling the ends down sharply. And, she quickly figured that was exactly what he’d wanted, as the bandanna slipped inside her mouth muffling her cry.
“There,” he said, rubbing her shoulders lightly. “Now this is what I like.”
Her mind raced as she realized that one of two things was about to happen, neither of them what she would consider to be a happy ending. A tear slipped down her face before she had even realized she’d teared up.
He laughed when he noticed. “Aww, are we scared, Brookie?” he purred, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand as if to comfort her. Another tear was his answer, and he smiled again before the back of his hand again met her cheek, this time in a much less loving way. The fear that had started to mount inside of her reached a fever pitch as he reached down and started playing with the crosses she had hanging around her neck, ripping them off in one deft movement, throwing them across the room.
In that instant, she began to believe she might not leave that room alive that night.
Taking his time, he slowly traced a path down her chest. His fingers twisting her nipples until she cried out. Looking down over her pale skin he smiled as he traced over one of the tattoos that scrawled over her side as he smirked. “I wonder if Billy can feel this.”
She swallowed hard at the mention of her brother. If only he could save her now.
He removed his own shirt, exposing his colorful flesh that used to give her goose bumps. Then, and much to her horror, he slid off her shoes and skirt leaving her naked in front of him and nothing that she could do about it.
The feeling of vulnerability and dirtiness that filled her body was so intense, she had to fight to keep from throwing up into the bandanna. And when he stood in front of her afterwards, basking in her exposed state, she wished she had movement of her hands only so she could flip him off for being such a bastard.
He removed his own shoes, pants, and boxers much quicker, feeling no need to wait procrastinate any longer, she guessed, and then for the third time straddled her body, his naked self coming to rest on her stomach. Now that the situation was at hand, the only reaction she had was more tears. They were all but flowing freely at this point, the combination of fear and emotion causing her to almost break down.
His lips again crashed into hers, and when he removed them seconds later he laughed to himself. “I think I like kissing she this way much better,” he joked, leaning in again as she fully realized just how helpless she really was. He pulled back quickly, reaching his hands behind him and slowly pushing apart her legs; the action taking her by surprise.
He moved back until he was sitting on his knees, in between her legs, and as soon as she had the chance she reared back and tried to kick him. A little harder and she almost would succeed in knocking her so called boyfriend off of the bed that was now holding her hostage. She did manage to succeed in making him very, very, unhappy, and another hand across the face proved that point.
“I was almost going to be nice to she,” he told her, his eyes flashing with something she could only call psychosis by this point. “But you just cost yourself any sympathy.”
Hastily he placed one of her legs on each of his shoulders, rubbing himself briefly to get himself aroused before forcing himself inside of her. No warning, no preparation, but she could feel that there was a lot of blood. And found it hurt more than she ever imagined something that was supposed to be pleasurable could.
She tried to black everything out as he fucked her. She tried to think of anything other that what he was doing, tried to focus on anything other than the pain. But nothing she did could make his fast, hard movements any easier on her mind, and finally she gave up, allowing him to completely break her as she melted into a mess of pained, muffled, whimpers and hot, strained, tears. Daring to finally open her eyes, she looked up to see him with his eyes closed, completely absorbed in his act of getting himself off. And judging by the moans that were drowning out her whimpers, he was succeeding at her expense.
“Oh fuck...” he cried, and she could feel his body tense. She again closed her eyes, praying that if nothing else, he would pull out and spare she one little bit of her pride. But he had already broken her spirit, he wasn’t about to stop there, and with a low growl he came, emptying everything he had inside of her body.
He ripped himself out when he was finished, collapsing on top of her a panting, sweating heap as she gave up. Somewhere inside she had been hoping for something, anything, to somehow rectify this horrifically twisted situation. As he laid, his seed now forever marking her body and her blood covering his lower regions, she gave up and began to await the next step.
When his breathing had evened out, he sat up and straddled her for the last time that night. “That was the best orgasm I ever had, Brooke. I knew you’d be a good little fuck,” he commented, laughing harshly at his snide remark.
Then in what seemed to be a moment of compassion he untied her wrists before he lifted himself off the bed and walked to the bathroom. Her arms may have ached but all Brooke wanted to do was to crawl into a dark corner and lay there. With the sound of the shower running in the next room though, she knew it would be her only chance to escape and on shaky legs she got up. Grabbing his oversized shirt it served well enough for her to head out into the hallway; from there she had no idea what she was going to do.
“Brooke?” Came a familiar voice from down the hall. She jerked her head up just in time to see Tony Lovato exiting the elevator. “What the hell happened to you? Come on, Billy it probably freaking…”
“No! I can’t,” she interrupted him. The tears were started to well up again even though she wasn’t sure she could cry anymore than she had. “Not… not just yet.”
He looked like he wanted to protest, but he studied her face and saw the fear that was there. Sighing, he gently placed a hand at her back, barely touching her, as he lead her down the hall to his room. She would at least be safe for the night.
Going over to his suitcase he pulled out a pair of sweats and a hoodie that he offered to her. “I know it might a little big on you, but it’s better than that thing you have on. The bathroom is there if you need to freshen up.”
She nodded a thank you before disappearing in the bathroom. Stripping off Benji’s old shirt she tossed it in the wastebasket and turned on the shower wanting nothing more than to simply wash away everything that had happened. The water was scalding hot, but it eased the tension and aches that her body was feeling, and she stayed under it until it burned her skin. No matter how hard she scrubbed she wouldn’t be able to get rid of the feeling of his hands, his mouth, his body inside her and she felt defeated.
When she walked back into the room she found Tony out on the balcony; a lit cigarette perched between his lips. He waved for her to join him and stepped aside as she came through the small doorway. He simply watched as she brushed her black curls forward slightly; unable to look directly at him.
“I called lil Bill and told him that you were going to crash here for the night,” he blurted out. “He was pretty worried that something happened to you.”
“Thanks Tone,” she said softly.
“You know, you don’t have to tell me everything that happened, but please don’t lie to me and act like nothing happened.” He said flicking some ash from his cigarette. “Did Benji do this to you?”
“Yes,” she said with a shaky voice. “Please…please just keep this between us.”
Leaning back against the railing she looked over at Tony and in one impulsive decision she told him what she had been through. A story that stayed between them and seemed to bring them closer together.
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