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Tainted Love	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 3468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Marilyn Manson or anything affiliated with him or the band. I don't know any of these famous people in real life and none of this story happened. This is fiction and just for fun. I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Author's Note: “I can keep you warm as long as you can just try to be brave.” ‘I Know I’m a Wolf’ by The Young Heretics
(Phew this has gotten way longer than I ever intended. I hope all you people out there reading this don't mind the occasional word vomit chapter. To be honest, I only sorta know what's gonna happen next so bear with me.)
Chapter Eighteen: The Morning After
The first thing she noticed was a pair of arms were wrapped tightly around her. In fact all of the person seemed to be wrapped around her. As the hot breath of the person so tightly wound around her fanned across her neck, memories of last night slowly began to trickle in. Her hazel eyes going wide with shock, mortification and a touch of fear, Raven turned her head slowly to confirm her suspicions about her current bedmate. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the sleeping, make-upless face of Marilyn Manson mere inches from her own.
His slightly sour breath hit her right in the face, making her wrinkle her nose slightly and pull back just a little. The singer’s response was to almost whimper as his arms tightened around her and pulled her tight against him. It was at this point that Raven realized that Manson was very naked and she was only dressed in one of her Marilyn Manson ‘night-shirts’. “Oh God,’ she squeaked softly, squirming against the sleeping rock star in an effort to get away.
As she struggled, Manson groaned softly and shifted his hips slightly. To her horror she could feel his semi-hard penis pressing against her bare thigh. “Oh Gooood,” she moaned softly, mortification and shyness laced in her voice as she desperately tried to angle her lower body away from the sleeping singer. It was then she felt a deep inhale from Manson and he moved slightly so he was looking at her tiredly.
“Mmmph.... Raven?” he grumbled in a throaty, tired voice, yawning behind a hand. His mismatched eyes were slightly glazed and didn’t quite look aware of his surroundings.
Brick red and slightly shaking, Raven did her best to smile at the sleepy rock star. “Its okay Manson, just need to go to the bathroom,” she lied smoothly, hoping that in his mostly asleep state he wouldn’t notice anything.
“Mmmm ‘kay. Hurry back,” he rumbled, his voice slowly fading away as he laid down and his arms loosened around her. His eyes immediately slipped closed and his breathing evened out as he went back to sleep.
Raven scooted a few inches away from the naked but blanket covered singer. She tried to slow her breathing with a few deep breaths as she watched Manson sleep. The last time he had changed her clothing, he had been a gentleman about it. She was fairly sure he would do the same this time. A relieved sigh leaving her lips, the pale female slowly got out of bed and wandered to the bathroom. It wasn’t that she had to go, she just needed some time to herself to assess the situation.
Once the bathroom door had been securely locked behind her, Raven gripped onto the sink like a lifeline and twisted the cold tap on full blast. Trying to steady her breathing, the shaking woman reached into the icy jet and splashed some of it on her flaming face. “Okay Raven, you’re okay. I mean you fucking sucked him off for fuck’s sake! Surely you can handle the idea of him... masturbating you,” she tried to convince herself, staring into the mirror at her blushing face. This lasted a few seconds before she slumped against the marble bathroom counter, her hot forehead resting against the cool stone.
“Yeah sure. Your boyfriend, who happens to be Marilyn Manson, just masturbated you last night. Sure there’s the fact that you’ve worshipped the man for most of you life but that shouldn’t bother you,” she grumbled sardonically, chuckling bitterly as she pushed herself off the bathroom counter and looked into the mirror again.
“Gah! Marilyn Manson wants your body and you’re just gonna let it slide because of some self-image issues!” she snarled at her nervous, still brick red reflection.
“How long have you fantasized about being in a relationship with him? How many times have you fucking fantasized about him worshipping your body? Now he’s finally here and willing and the thought of him just masturbating has you almost having a panic attack! Get a grip Raven!” she admonished herself heatedly, not sounding too convinced by her own tirade.
With a frustrated, defeated sigh, Raven splashed some more water on her face before looking at the bandage on the top of her left wrist. A self hating sneer on her face, the distraught female yanked the bandage off to reveal a light scab covering the cross-like cut. “Who am I fucking kidding? Who the hell wants damaged goods?” she hissed in a pained voice, raising her injured appendage to her face to look at the scab.
A gentle knock on the door broke her from her dark thoughts and Raven whirled to face the wooden portal. “Raven? You okay? You’ve been in there awhile” came a tired, worried male voice from the other side.
“Y-yeah, just washing my hands,” she called, turning and twisting the tap off. Giving her reflection one last glare, the pale woman unlocked and opened the door while turning off the light. Even if she was damaged, last night proved to her that Manson wanted her.
As soon as the door opened, Manson was lifting her left wrist and inspecting it. His mismatched eyes roved over the scabbed flesh, a displeased look on his face. Raven watched him closely, her heart beating hard in her chest. After a few moments, the ‘Antichrist Superstar’ brushed his lips gently on the injured flesh before releasing her hand. “Coming back to bed?” he asked in a throaty, growly voice as if nothing had happened.
It was at that point that Raven realized that Manson was still very much naked. Swallowing hard, her throat making a dry clicking noise, the black haired female couldn’t stop her gaze from wandering down his scarred chest to the dark trail of hair going down from his belly button. Her gaze refused to move any further as she stood there stuck between arousal, mortification and flusterment. A deep chuckle broke into her daze as her chin was gently lifted and her lips captured in a tender kiss. “Why are you so embarrassed? Its nothing you haven’t seen before,” he purred tiredly when he broke the kiss.
Raven looked up at the singer, suddenly feeling very aroused by his nearness and the roughness of his ‘just waking up’ voice. Manson smiled down at her with love filled eyes before gently taking her right hand in his and giving it a small tug. “Come on. I’m not ready to get up yet and I doubt you are either,” he rumbled tiredly, hiding a yawn behind a hand.
Before she could say anything, Manson merely turned and began to lead her back to the bed. On the short trip, Raven found she didn’t mind the view one bit. His butt was firm and she could see the muscles move as he walked. In fact, without the distraction of the possibility of seeing his manhood, she was able to drink in his whole body. He was lithe, thin almost to the point of being underfed and looked as if he had never seen a good day in the sun. Colorful tattoos decorated his arms and his shoulder length, black hair spilled over his milky back.
All too soon Manson was laying down and flinging the turquoise blanket over himself. His mismatched eyes looked up at her as he rubbed the sheets beside him. Nervousness mixing with her arousal from earlier, Raven almost cautiously laid in bed with the performer. She was careful to keep several inches of bed between them as she covered herself with the same blanket Manson was under. “Mmm this simply won’t do,” he grumbled before his strong, tattooed arms wrapped around her and pulled her flush against his naked body.
“Much better,” he sighed, nuzzling the top of her head as his hands moved up and down her shirt covered back.
At first Raven was stiff as a board, a hot blush on her cheeks as she felt his semi-flaccid penis press against her bare thigh. Then she slowly relaxed as it became clear that Manson only wanted to cuddle her as he slept. Instead of acting amorous, the singer merely made himself comfortable and went back to sleep. Giggling softly but still a bit mortified by the part of him touching her, Raven placed a tender kiss on his pale forehead. “I love you Bri,” she whispered quietly, earning a soft sigh and gentle squeeze from the sleeping rock star. Then she snuggled into his bony chest and closed her eyes. The sound of his gentle breathing soon lulled her into a deep sleep.
The suite door slamming open, followed by an angry female voice loudly declaring that she would never go near Pogo while he was drunk again, jolted both of them out of a deep sleep. “Mmm sounds like your friend is back,” Manson hissed, sitting up and pressing the palm of his left hand to his forehead.
“Amanda, her name is Amanda,” Raven grumbled, feeling her own headache beginning as she swung her long, pale legs out of the bed.
“Mmhmm. Whatever her name is, she’s fucking loud in the morning,” he grumbled irritably, getting out of bed and reminding Raven that he was still very much naked.
Averting her eyes from the nude singer, Raven ran to her dresser and rummaged in it for some appropriate clothes. “Maybe she wouldn’t be loud if your band didn’t go out of their way to aggravate her,” she quipped, not looking at Manson as she scampered into the bathroom to change.
“Hey, they’ve always been like that. You guys are just going to have to get used to it,” he replied grumpily.
Raven rolled her eyes as she pulled her black jeans over her red panties. As much as she hated to admit it, Manson had a point. The band and Manson came as a packaged deal. She and Amanda would just have to adapt since Manson certainly wasn’t going anywhere. After she had pulled on a black shirt, Raven cautiously opened the door and called, “You dressed yet?”
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. You’ll just have to come out and see,” he purred playfully, a slight hint of a throaty rasp to his voice.
Raven whimpered, shifting from one foot to the other unsurely. ‘Okay, its okay. You’ve seen his... thing before. You’ve fucking had it in your mouth! You can handle seeing him naked!’ she thought to herself. Yet, despite that self encouragement, it still felt as if her legs were trying to collapse out from under her. No matter what reason she gave herself, it was still Marilyn fucking Manson out there who may or may not be naked. Just the thought of it filled her with both arousal and extreme embarrassment. “Are you coming out or am I coming in to get you?” he hissed, the threat evident in his voice.
Taking in a deep breath and slowly letting it out, Raven shakily came back into the room; keeping her hazel gaze fixed firmly on the white carpet beneath her feet. A deep chuckle made her jump and she felt a hand starting to lift her chin. Making strange, strangled noises, Raven fought his hand; trying to keep her face pointed toward the ground.
The grip on her chin tightened and the pressure became more firm as he forced her face upwards. Closing her eyes rapidly, Raven tried in vain to yank her chin from his tight hold. Manson growled in response, giving her chin a gentle shake. “Open your eyes,” he hissed, the fact he wouldn’t take no for an answer evident in his tone.
Reluctantly, Raven opened her eyes to see Manson dressed in the same attire as last night. His mismatched eyes sparkled mischievously as he gave her lips a quick peck. “There now, much better,” he purred, looking very much like the cat who ate the cream.
“You’re mean,” Raven gasped out, still shaking a bit.
“I have a reputation to uphold babe,” he chuckled, giving her another quick peck on the lips before leaving the room. Raven rolled her eyes, a slight smile on her face as she sat on her bed to pull on some socks.
As soon as she exited the bedroom she was greeted to the sight of Amanda standing toe to toe with Manson, who had a non-plused look on his face and a glass of alcohol in his hand. “Alright mister! I have a bone to pick with you about how you treated Meag, I mean Raven!” Amanda snarled, poking Manson’s chest with a thin finger. A tired looking Johnny stood in the living room, watching their antics with exhausted eyes.
The usually impeccably dressed actor looked significantly rumpled. His cheek length, black hair stood at all angles and his newborn goatee looked a lot thicker. The hawaiian shirt he wore yesterday looked wrinkled and hung open to reveal a stained, rumpled looking tank top underneath. Black circles were thick under his eyes and the poor man looked about ready to collapse on his feet.
Amanda wasn’t in much better condition. Her unruly mass of brown curls was a veritable rat’s nest of tangles. The nice dress she had worn last night was wrinkled and had several stains of god knows what on it. Like Johnny, Amanda had dark circles under her eyes and looked about to collapse. But not before she gave Manson the what for. “What the hell did you think you were doing yelling at her like that!” the much smaller woman spat, her green eyes sparkling with fury as she stared down the rock star.
Manson stared down at Amanda, his lips pressed in a thin line of displeasure. Then he proceeded to knock back his drink and shudder. “Not that I have to explain myself to you, but I already tore myself up about that. I... came to a few conclusions about myself,” he hissed, turning his back on the sputtering woman as he refilled his glass.
Raven watched the exchange with trepidation, her gaze switching between the fuming Amanda and Manson to the swaying Johnny. Deciding to let Manson deal with the consequences of his actions for the moment, Raven moved towards the fading actor. Johnny unsteadily turned his head toward her as she got closer, a tired smile coming onto his strained face. “Oh Raven, good to see you’re okay,” he murmured before collapsing.
Barely catching him before he hit the floor, Raven helped Johnny stagger to his room; which was between hers and Amanda’s. As soon as the door was shut, the blushing female helped Johnny shrug off his hawaiian shirt. Then she led him to the edge of his purple sheet covered bed and helped him sit down. As she pulled away to leave, Raven felt the dark haired actor’s arms wrap tightly around her waist as he burrowed his face in her stomach. “J-johnny?” she stammered out unsurely as butterflies of arousal began to flutter inside her lower belly.
“I was so worried about you. I thought Brian was gonna do something rash again,” he whispered breathlessly, rubbing his cheek on her slightly chubby stomach.
“H-hey, I’m okay Johnny. Why don’t you try to get some sleep. You look like you’ve had a rough night,” she suggested, nervously patting his dark haired head. The tired actor sighed against her stomach before releasing her and laying on his back. He pressed the palms of both hands against his eyes and let out a shuddering groan.
“W-would you mind staying with me for a bit? It would help me feel better,” he whispered in a pleading voice, not removing his hands from his face.
“O-okay,” she replied unsurely, her hazel eyes watching Johnny closely. She had never seen the normally jovial man look so utterly alone before.
“Thanks,” he murmured, sitting up slowly and walking into the bathroom.
After a few moments, the exhausted looking man stumbled back out dressed in the stained tank top and a pair of blue sleeping pants. At first he leaned on the bathroom door, his brown eyes scanning the room until the saw Raven was still there. A relieved smile appearing on his face, Johnny teetered over to the bed and practically allowed himself to fall on it.
Raven watched the a-list performer with worried eyes. “Johnny, why don’t I just let you get some sleep,” she offered quietly, a bit startled when the man lifted himself to look at her. His black locks hung slightly in his face and the look on said face was so full of concern and longing that it froze her in place.
“Just... stay with me until I fall asleep,” he pleaded, rolling onto his back so he could look at her with those tortured brown eyes.
Unable to take seeing him in such pain and telling herself she was just cuddling a friend, Raven crawled into bed beside Johnny. He turned to face her, a curious look on his pale, tired face. Suddenly feeling very nervous, the shaking female licked her dry lips before tentatively wrapping her arms around the actor’s lithe body. Johnny jerked slightly, a cautious hand coming up to rest lightly on her back. “Why were you so worried?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“Well, with how he’s already treated you, I’d say I have every right to be concerned. I care about you very deeply Raven. I don’t want to see you hurt,” he murmured quietly, his free hand gently cupping her left wrist.
Raven sighed, giving Johnny a light squeeze. “Ever since he got back he’s been very sweet to me,” she assured, looking up at Johnny’s handsome but tired face.
“Mmm but I have to wonder how long he’ll be like that,” Johnny muttered, his voice fading off at the end as he drifted off to sleep.
If the poor guy wasn’t so tired, Raven would have woken him up for an explanation. She had heard horror stories about Manson’s infamous temper, about how his mood switched on a dime but so far she had only seen stuff she could easily deal with. The way everyone acted around the singer it was like they were expecting a bomb to go off. With a frustrated sigh, she gently pulled the blankets over Johnny and left.
While Raven was occupied with Johnny, Manson and Amanda got into an epic pissing match. As soon as the singer had turned his back to her, the curly haired hell cat grabbed his shoulder and whirled the 6’ 6” star around to face her. “Look, you may think you’re fucking hot shit because you’re a rock star but to me you’re nothing more than dirt. So far I haven’t seen anything that convinces me you’re going to treat my friend well,” Amanda snarled, her eyes flashing with rage.
“Except flying an overnight flight just to see her and driving her to a hospital? Now why I was the one doing that again? Oh right! You didn’t fucking call an ambulance!” he roared, slamming the fluid filled glass down on the counter so hard it shattered. The two glared at each other as the alcohol dripped onto the tile floor of the kitchen.
“How dare you!” Amanda hissed before she pulled back a hand and slapped him across his pale face with every bit of strength she had.
Manson’s head moved to the side from the force of the blow, his black hair obscuring his face from view for the moment. A low growl escaped him as he whipped his head back to face the fuming Amanda. Pure rage glittered in his mismatched orbs as he drew himself to his full height, his hair still hanging slightly in his face. A red hand mark slowly began to appear on his left cheek.
“I’m not fucking scared of you mister ‘Antichrist Superstar’! You have no idea what she’s fucking been through! How badly you yelling at her could have broken her!” hissed the enraged woman, her chest heaving from her anger.
Manson stepped back as if struck, a brief flash of guilt and regret flashing across his naked, pale face. “You’re right, I don’t know. I wasn’t there and she hasn’t told me about it yet. I’m not proud of what I did, especially after what she did tell me,” the rock star whispered, picking up a piece of glass from the counter and looking at it in the light.
“What did she tell you?” Amanda whispered, her anger fading for concern when she saw the way Manson was looking at the piece of glass. It brought back memories of Meagan, before she became Raven. Memories of her... Amanda shook herself free of the unwelcome thoughts and focused on Manson, who was staring at her with pain-filled mismatched eyes.
“Why don’t you ask her yourself! I don’t do this fucking sneaking around, he said, she said bullshit! I’ve had my fill of that from other people,” he snarled, flinging the glittering piece of glass into the trash can by the sink. Then he turned and poured himself another drink.
Just as Amanda was about to tell him to slow down, Raven came back into the main room. The pale woman looked flustered, concerned and embarrassed all at the same time. Her hazel eyes came to rest on Manson as he knocked back the glass of alcohol with a shudder. “Marilyn, maybe you should slow down,” she whispered gently.
The singer whirled to face her with such an intense glare that she gasped and took several steps back. Amanda immediately threw herself between them, flinging her arms wide as she faced Manson. Manson snarled in response, his frown deepening as his hands curled into tight fists. “Amanda, what?” Raven gasped out, looking at her friend as if she had suddenly grown two heads.
“Meag, er, Raven this guy obviously has a temper problem! Have you forgotten what he did to our house?” her room mate hissed, turning slightly to look at her pale friend with concern filled, green eyes.
“Yeah, but he’s never hurt me,” the black haired woman replied, memories of Manson punching the wall in the hospital filling her head. Raven’s hazel eyes flicked back to Manson, who was looking at her with a mixture of guilt and heart crushing sadness. Maybe he was remembering that too.
“How long is it gonna take before he turns that rage on you! Ginger told me a few things and I have to say I’m worried,” Amanda snarled, her voice as harsh and sharp as a gunshot.
Silence stretched between the trio before Raven merely moved around Amanda’s outstretched arms. The curly haired woman grasped Raven’s right wrist in a harsh grip, her green eyes full of worry. Raven sighed before gently tugging her wrist free of her protective friend’s grasp. “I don’t know what Ginger told you and I don’t want to know. What I do know is that I’m choosing to trust Marilyn,” the pale female murmured softly, smiling reassuringly at Amanda as she moved toward Manson.
The lanky singer immediately began to relax, quickly closing the distance and wrapping Raven in his arms. His mismatched eyes closed as he inhaled her scent, his nose burrowed in her black hair. “I’m sorry Raven,” he murmured softly, his voice muffled by her thick hair.
Raven gave an exasperated noise, moving back so she could look the slightly stunned performer in the eyes. “Mare, I already forgave you for that. Lets just forget the whole mess ever happened,” she groused, gently punching Manson’s shirt covered arm. This only earned a deep chuckle from the thin super star.
Amanda watched the whole scene, her apprehension only slightly fading. Manson seemed different than when she first met him. Still, something Ginger told her made her worried. Shaking her head, her brown curls shaking with the movement, the pale woman sighed. “Well, I’m going to bed. I had to fucking deal with ‘Wonder Pogo’ and his ‘Penis of Doom’ all night,” she groused, shuffling towards her room. For right now, she would trust her childhood friend’s judgement.
“Wonder Pogo and his what of what?!” Raven replied, confusion and violation filling her voice as she whipped around to look at Amanda; only to find her friend tiredly moving down the hall.
Manson burst into laughter, letting go of Raven so he could hold onto the kitchen counter for support. He wrapped a black material covered arm around his thin waist as he laughed helplessly, tears streaming from his mirth filled eyes. Raven looked at Manson like he had grown two heads which only made the infamous ‘Antichrist Superstar’ laugh harder. After a few moments his laughter faded into occasional giggles as he straightened and wiped his eyes. “Soooo care to explain what that was about?” Raven asked as he tried to catch his breath, a slight look of confusion on her pale face as her head tilted slightly to the right.
“When Pogo gets really drunk he can get more hyper than he usually is. On rare occasion he’ll declare himself ‘Wonder Pogo’, defender of the booze. His weapon of choice is his ‘Penis of Doom’ which he will rub all over random people who happen to be in the same room as him,” Manson replied, chuckles still occasionally spilling from his lips.
Raven stared at him for a few moments before what he said clicked and her jaw dropped open. “Oh god! Does that mean poor Amanda...?” Raven asked haltingly, a horrified look on her face.
“Probably not. Pogo, even drunk, wouldn’t treat a woman like that. But she probably saw more of him than she would like,” the singer responded, smiling down at Raven with laughter in his mismatched gaze.
Raven shuddered but couldn’t help the small stream of giggles at the thought of what her friend’s face must have looked like. Manson gave her forehead a gentle kiss before grabbing the nearly forgotten glass of alcohol and tipping it back. “You know, you really shouldn’t drink like that every morning,” Raven murmured, looking up at the performer with concerned eyes.
Manson went stiff, anger briefly flashing through his brown and whitish blue eyes, then he sighed and ran a hand through his shoulder length, black hair. “Look, I appreciate your concern but you really don’t need to worry,” he replied, a slightly cold edge to his voice as his eyes met her hazel gaze steadily.
Raven bit her lip, shifting from foot to foot as she lowered her head to avoid his burning gaze. Despite what the singer said, she was deeply worried. Ever since they had become involved, the man had a drink almost every morning. It was starting to look a bit like he had a problem. Still, she found herself unable to confront him about it. Their relationship was still so new and they had barely spent any time together during it. Did she really have a right to question him about his possible alcoholism? It wasn’t as if he was drinking the whole day.
Manson watched her silent struggle, his lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. As if sensing where her thoughts were heading, the towering ‘God of Fuck’ stalked towards her. Stopping a few inches away from her and seeing that she didn’t notice him due to her being so deep in thought, the singer gently but firmly tugged her chin up so she was looking at him. His mismatched eyes searched her hazel orbs for a few moments, the intensity of his gaze almost making her collapse to her knees.
A more gentle look replacing the barely hidden anger, Manson simply sighed before pulling her into another embrace. “I promise, it’s nothing for you to worry about,” he assured softly, petting her shoulder length, black hair soothingly. Raven found herself slowly relaxing into his arms, a black cloud lurking in the back of her mind. How long could they go on ignoring this before it became a problem, if it wasn’t already. She found herself afraid of the answer and nuzzled almost desperately into the black material of the singer’s long sleeve shirt.
A few hours later Raven found the suite completely jammed full of hung over men. John 5 was leaning on the kitchen counter, nursing a screwdriver as he held an ice pack to his head. Pogo had himself draped over the back of the couch, his almost bruised looking eyes tightly shut. Tim looked pale and tired but no worse for the wear. Poor Ginger, on the other hand, looked like he had met the business end of a missile. His bleach blonde hair stuck up at odd angles, he had dark purple circles under his eyes and his clothes looked like they had been caked in vomit at one time. “Ginger! Fuck man! Sit down! Let me get you some coffee,” Raven gasped, completely horrified by the drummer’s appearance.
“Mmm,” was Ginger’s only response as he collapsed into a chair at the small table, his head coming down on the hard wood of the table with a thud. Even Manson winced, looking at the exhausted man with a bit of concern.
After all the band members had revived enough to be more than living zombies, Manson went back to Raven’s room to get himself ready for the day. While the singer was busy putting on his make-up, Raven cautiously approached Pogo; who was now sitting on the couch correctly and sipping a cup of black coffee. “What did you do last night?” she asked the keyboardist, a slightly terrified edge to her voice.
The mohawked man turned toward her, an insane grin appearing instantly on his face as his brown eyes sparkled mischievously. “A better question would be what didn’t he do?” Ginger groused from behind her. He had followed her over to the couch, more than just a little afraid of what Pogo would do to her. Raven turned her head to give Ginger a horror filled look, only growing more horrified when Ginger merely winced and didn’t meet her eyes.
“Aw c’mon Ging! It wasn’t as bad as it could have been,” Pogo quipped, quirking his blonde brow at the drummer as he took a sip of coffee. Ginger tensed, his acne scarred face full of fury for a split second as he opened his mouth to reply.
“Alright you sons of bitches, time to pack up the bus,” Manson announced, coming out in full make-up but still wearing his outfit from earlier and the night before. Despite what they had shared last night, Raven couldn’t help the sudden burst of flusterment and shyness that went through her at the sight of him. ‘Oh god. That’s your boyfriend,’ her inner voice squealed happily as a deep red blush spread over her pale cheeks.
The rock star’s gaze flicked around the room until it rested on her. A smirk coming onto his black lips, Manson prowled towards Raven. Raven’s reaction was instant and instinctual; she squeaked like a mouse getting stepped on, skittering away from the approaching performer and into the kitchen. A low, playful growl left Manson as he followed her, trapping his quarry easily against the kitchen counter.
His strong, thin arms came down on the counter on either side of her as he pressed himself close to the nervous female. An almost possessive glint in his eyes, the ‘Antichrist Superstar’ lowered his face to hers; stopping a hair’s breadth from brushing his lips against hers. “Still nervous around me?” he purred, his hot breath mingling with hers as she looked up at him with wide, flustered, hazel eyes.
Raven felt almost pinned by his heated gaze. Swallowing thickly, she found her mouth impossibly dry. Futilely, her parched tongue darted out to wet her lips. It was then the singer darted forward, gently capturing her tongue with his teeth as he met her lips in a possessive kiss. The sheer amount of lust and the feeling of being claimed caused her hazel eyes to flutter shut as her hands came up to rest on his shirt covered chest. Manson growled against her lips in response, releasing her tongue to run his own along the wet muscle.
His body pressed against her, his knee gently prying her legs open as he ravaged her mouth. Raven whimpered into the heat of his mouth, not feeling the discomfort of the counter being pressed into her back. One of Manson’s hands rested in the small of her back while the other tangled in her hair, holding her head still as he kissed her. After a few breathless moments, the performer finally broke the kiss with a low hiss.
Raven’s eyes slowly open, too dazed by the kiss to really comprehend the situation. The singer holding her was panting harshly, his arms shaking slightly as he lower body nestled flush between her legs. With a jolt, she became highly aware of the hard, leather encased manhood pressing right against her junction. Shyness and flusterment rising to a critical level, Raven tried to shove away from Manson; only to find he had her effectively pinned. “Raven, you may want to stop squirming,” he bit out, his voice sounding strained.
An insane titter came from behind them, reminding Raven that they had a very male audience right then. Her face going an even deeper shade of red, the embarrassed woman froze; her hazel eyes looking to the left. A deep sigh greeted this action as Manson gently cupped her chin, placing a much more gentle kiss on her forehead. “Are you ashamed of being with me?” he whispered softly, his voice full of pain.
Raven’s gaze immediately flew to his, a flabbergasted look on her face. “N-no! Of course not! It’s just, I’m not used to moving this fast! And you, you’re... well you. I’m still getting on a grip on being in a relationship with someone like you,” she stammered out, knowing she was failing miserably at explaining herself. Though they had been together almost a month already, they had spent very little of that time actually together. It still hadn’t quite sunk in that she was in a relationship with someone she had idolized through a large chunk of her life.
“Someone like me...,” he muttered softly, his voice losing all emotion. His lower body pulled slowly away from hers but his grip on her body didn’t loosen. Hurt and anger swirled within his mismatched orbs as he met her gaze steadily.
“No! I didn’t mean you in particular! I meant someone like you! Yanno, famous and wanted by millions of available women. It just... I’m still kinda blown away that you want me,” she replied hastily, her voice tapering off near the end; becoming small and broken on the last three words.
A long silence greeted her as she lowered her gaze to his chin. Fear began to fill her and she began to shake helplessly as tears began to brim in her eyes. Fiercely clamping down on the rising panic and depression, Raven fought to keep from crumbling. “Guys, give us a few,” she heard Manson ask quietly.
“Yeah man, whatever you need,” Pogo replied, uncharacteristically serious.
It only took a few moments for the band members to file out but those few moments were sheer torture for the already nervous female. Raven tried a few time to escape his tight grip, wanting to be anywhere but this close to the singer. Dread began to fill her as a horrible thought filled her head. Had she made him angry with her? Her fruitless struggles only made him tighten his grip. “Raven, stop,” he hissed, his dead calm voice holding a steely edge as he held her against him.
Fear flooded her senses at his tone of voice. He sounded absolutely furious! An all consuming need to escape filling her, the panicking female arched in his iron grip in an effort to get away. “Raven! Raven stop!” Manson snarled, his grip only tightening as he fought against her struggles. Something in his voice made her pause, her frightened gaze meeting his mismatched eyes.
“Good, keep looking at me Raven,” he whispered, his expression softening but still holding a stern look. Behind him the door clicked shut, leaving the pair alone in the room.
As soon as they were alone, Manson released her enough to pull back and look her in the eyes. “Meagan, listen to me closely,” he whispered, his voice stern and commanding. Shaking slightly, Raven nodded and swallowed nervously.
“I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. When you sang Last Day on Earth to me, I was lost,” he rumbled, his expression deadly serious.
Not quite believing what was coming from his mouth, the pale woman stared at him with her mouth agape. “I don’t know why I feel so strongly for you after only spending a handful of days with you but I do. The things I’ve already put you through and you’ve forgiven me for haven proven to me that you care quite deeply for me as well,” he continued steadily, love and a gentle exasperation swirling in his brown and white-blue gaze.
Raven found herself relaxing as it became clear that he wasn’t pissed at her. His words washed over her like a soothing balm and she found herself smiling slightly. “If you need further proof I love you, here,” he hissed, grasping her uninjured right wrist in his grasp and shoving her palm against his pulsing, leather covered arousal.
Gasping at how hard he was and blushing deeply from embarrassment, the flustered female tried to pull away only to have him press himself harder against her hand. She could almost feel the outline of every vein through the skin tight material and she found herself giving an experimental stroke.
The reaction was instant as he shuddered, the stiff rod under her hand pulsing slightly. “I want you Raven. I want you badly. I want you so bad I can fucking taste it. Yet, because I love you, I will wait for you. Fuck Raven, I’ve even given up groupies before simply because I can’t get you off my mind,” he groaned, rubbing his arousal needily against her palm that he still held in an iron grip against him.
“I can’t even masturbate, you know that? Nothing gives me relief anymore,” he moaned heatedly, thrusting up against her hand once.
A gasp leaving her lips, Raven felt a jolt of arousal go through her system in a shock. Her womanhood began to ache as the way he was looking at her caused a familiar coil to tighten in her lower belly. “Only your touch, your body, your lips can slake this fire inside me now,” he growled softly, rubbing his leather covered tip against her fingers.
“Do you know just how much power that gives you over me? How much that scares me,” Manson sighed, his voice sounding pained and tortured. His hips stopped their lewd movement and his aroused manhood pulsed against her palm.
“Oh my darling, what you do to me,” he whispered, raising the hand he held to his crotch up to his lips and giving the pale flesh a tender kiss.
Raven found herself staring up at him, at a complete loss for words. His heated words had caused a low, throbbing, needy feeling deep inside her core. Her entire body tingled as if every nerve was on fire, her breath coming in short pants. A light flush colored her cheeks and she found herself nuzzling into his chest. Closing her hazel eyes, the black haired female inhaled deeply; simply enjoying the sheer maleness of his scent. “Don’t ever doubt just how much I love you, how much I need you. Being without you these past few weeks has been absolute hell,” he confessed quietly, placing gentle kisses on the crown of her head.
A few minutes passed, the pair just content to be in the other’s presence for the moment. Then Manson pulled away slightly, lifting her chin to look at him. “You’re gonna have a ringside seat at tonight’s concert,” he announced, a sudden mischievous glint in his mismatched gaze.
“Just what do you have in mind?” Raven asked, dreading the look in his eyes as he pulled away from her.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” the singer purred, smirking to himself as he headed toward the door to tell the band they could come back. Whatever he had in mind, Raven was sure it was going to be embarrassing and would probably give the paparazzi a field day.
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Tainted Love