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. |
Warning!!!: Light bloodplay.
Author's Note: I'm an evil person. Thanks for all the views so far! Please don't be shy and give me some pointers! I assure you, they're always welcome. Rights to the song 'Tourniquet' belong to Marilyn Manson.Chapter Eight: Denial and ToursRaven sat in the passenger side of the black sports car while Johnny sped down the road, his brown eyes fixed solely on the road ahead. She was very familiar with Manson's relationship with Dita. It had been his longest relationship to date and even ended in a brief marriage. Manson had loved the pin-up diva deeply until she started trying to change who he was. Raven could only imagine the amount of betrayal he had felt. And now Dita had called him. She hadn't even asked Ginger what the call had been about. All of them had simply dropped everything, gotten into the car and began to drive.“What was he doing?” Johnny and Raven asked at the same time, concern thick in their voices.
“He broke his phone for starters. Then he proceeded to go through heroic amounts of both Vodka and Absinthe, getting shitfaced drunk. Then he chased everyone out of the house and has begun throwing things,” Ginger answered, looking at the passing scenery fretfully.
“Aw shit. It sounds like whatever she said pissed him right off,” Johnny hissed, his eyes narrowing and going almost black as his hands tightened on the black leather of the wheel.
“Oh this is just great. I hope he hasn't broken any of Mandy's statues. Some of those were from her mother,” Raven hissed, rubbing her temples. She wondered if Dita had called him about her. If that was the case, she also wondered what had been said.
“Oh no, when Manson started drinking really heavily Pogo started running them outside. They're all safe,” Ginger replied, his brown eyes flicking to her fitfully. He was so afraid that she would run when she saw Manson. Unfortunately his rage was very much a part of the singer and was among one of his more common reactions. If she ran, it wouldn't bode well for their relationship and would probably drive Manson into an even deeper rage than before.
“Well at least there's that,” the black haired female sighed, cracking her window open for some fresh air. To be truthful, she was absolutely terrified. She had never been good around angry men, having a strong flight reaction or outright freezing up when she was around them. Yet she had known that Manson had a horrible temper and that she would have to face it at some point. She would just have to tough it out and stay by his side even if that meant her being scared out of her mind.
Johnny could feel the tension in the air and set his jaw. He was just as worried as the others, about both Raven and Manson. This would be a trial by fire for Raven and if she failed to pass, would likely cause an explosion like never before. He hoped she was ready to see the singer at his absolute worst and vowed to stay close by in case she needed him.
As Johnny pulled up, Raven looked at the three members of the band on her lawn with concern. All of them were looking at the house with fear, forming a semi-ring around the precious statues that had been removed. As the black haired female exited the car Pogo ran up to her, relief on his pale face. “Fucking Dita, she knows just what to say to fuck him up,” he stated, looking at the house as a loud crash came from inside.
“I- I'll go see if I can calm him down,” Raven whispered, flinching as a chair was thrown through the living room window.
“Do you need me to come with you?” Johnny offered, coming up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder.
“N-no. As much as I would like that, I think its best I try to handle this by myself,” she replied quietly, looking pale and frightened. Ginger came up by her side and gently placed a hand on her right arm.
“Whatever you do, don't run. Whatever he says, he's just trying to drive you away,” the drummer whispered, locking his brown eyes with her hazel ones; a cool breeze blowing through the bleach blond hair that hung in his face.
Placing her left hand over the hand on her arm, she gave Ginger a sad smile. “You know what she said, don't you,” she whispered quietly.
“Its always the same thing when his picture's been taken with a supposed new girlfriend. She'll call to remind him of their relationship and tell him that it'll be no different. That he'll never be happy unless he's willing to entirely change who he is,” Ginger replied, wincing as another chair flew through the kitchen window.
“Oh boy, I bet he loves that,” Raven hissed hugging her bare arms. The t-shirt she had on was doing nothing to shield her from the semi-cool air.
“He doesn't always react like this. This reaction is usually because Dita had the gall to do a background check on the girl,” the drummer responded, avoiding looking at Raven.
A cold fear curled through Raven at his words. She had nothing to hide technically but how much information would she have gotten? Would it just be the background check or had she actually dug for information on her? There were things in her past that she would much rather tell Manson herself. “What did she tell him?” she whispered, her voice small and shaky.
“Not much. As soon as she brought it up he had flung the phone against the wall. What really pisses him off is that she pries into his life and actively tries to destroy any relationship he's in,” Ginger replied. Another loud crash from inside made the whole group flinch back.
“Well, wish me luck,” Raven requested before squaring her shoulders and heading toward the house.
The house was a wreck. Cushions from the armchairs and couch were strewn all over. There were ruins of broken plates and glasses everywhere. The stereo was nothing but a ruin of circuits and wires. The TV had a shoe sticking out of the shattered screen. Doors hung off of all the cabinets and cupboards. Two of the kitchen chairs had been thrown out the window, the other two had simply been broken apart and tossed throughout the house. Several holes were punched in the walls and the ruins of a cellphone was heaped by the front door. Several of the cupboards had been torn off the walls and flung around. Assorted silverware, food and other kitchen stuff littered the kitchen and hall floor. “Whoever it is get the fuck out!” came a male scream from the living room followed by a leg of the coffee table being flung into the hall.
Swallowing her immense fear, Raven took a deep breath and cautiously came into the house. She wasn't too surprised to see Lady and Mystery streak out the open front door. She could only hope the band members outside managed to catch the frightened animals. “Manson? Its Raven,” she called timidly,peering into the destroyed living room.
Manson stood in the middle of the chaos, his shoulder length haired hanging in his face as his shirtless shoulders heaved. His mismatched eyes were wide and crazed as he glowered at her. “Didn't you hear me?” he hissed, his voice quiet and dangerous. Blood trickled freely from open wounds on his knuckles as he tightened his fists.
“Of course I did but I can't leave you in a state like this,” she replied softly, standing her ground and keeping her eyes locked on his. The danger was so thick in the room that it felt like standing off with a vicious predator.
The singer curled his lips into a sneer, sweat shining on his make-upless face. “Yes well you should have thought about that before you went out with Johnny,” he hissed venomously, throwing a magazine at her. The magazine landed on top of her platform boots and she bent down to pick it up. On the cover was a picture of her and Johnny out at lunch with a smaller picture of a head-shot of Manson looking pissed on the side. 'Marilyn Manson Involved in Sordid Love Triangle' screamed the glaring red headline.
Raven picked it up gingerly, giving it only a cursory look before giving Manson a sad look. “Do you really think I have any interest in leaving you for Johnny?” she asked quietly, the hurt from what he was assuming twisting at her heart.
Manson glared daggers at her for a moment before turning his head to the side. “I never said that's what my problem is,” he hissed, a muscle in his jaw ticking slightly.
“Then what is your problem,” she snapped, exasperation edging into her voice. As terrified as she was right then she was beginning to get just as irritated.
“My problem is that everyone is going to assume that you're like that! These assholes have dragged your name through the mud and that bitch had the fucking nerve to give them your real name,” he bit out, not looking her in the eye.
“Wh-wha? How did she...?” Raven gasped, swaying slightly as the edges of her vision went gray. In a second he was there, holding her arms gently; all anger gone for the moment.
“She and some of those paparazzi scum have been spreading your picture around and paying for information,” he hissed, not releasing her. This was a good thing because all the strength left her legs at his statement. The only thing that kept her on her feet was the hold he had on her arms.
They had gone to pay for information about her. With a sinking feeling, she had a thought of who could do such a thing. “Was there any mention of who their informant was?” she whispered, her eye focused on the tops of Manson's platforms.
“Dita mentioned that it was your father,” he growled, his eyes now full of concern instead of rage.
“I had a thought that was who it had been,” she murmured softly, her tone defeated as her shoulders slumped. If they had her full legal name it would only be a matter of time before they got her address as well. There would be cameras everywhere, at least until they were forced to go away.
“Are you okay?” Manson asked, releasing one of her arms to lift her chin.
Meeting his eyes, Raven shook her head while tears brimmed in her hazel orbs. How would she ever be okay again? What if her father had denied payment for information about where she lived? A shudder ran through her frame and she found herself leaning into the singer holding her for comfort. To her surprise, his pale, tattooed arms gently wrapped around her and held her loosely.
“That's not all,” he whispered, pulling back so that he was looking her in the eyes.
“Wh-what else?” whispered the distraught woman. Panic filled her as a suspicion formed. Surely her father hadn't gone that far?!
“He divulged a lot of private information about you. It'll be spread throughout many tabloids through the month,” he snarled, some of the anger returning to his mismatched gaze.
“D-do you know any of it?” she whimpered, pulling away from the performer. She had wanted to tell him everything in her own time, now it seemed that the tabloids were going to tell everyone in the world. She had to wonder what sick spin her father had put on it to make himself seem like the good guy. Suddenly she felt very nauseous and had to fight not to vomit right there.
“She tried to tell me but I had other ideas,” he growled, his eyes flicking to the ruins of his phone, “I want you to be the one to tell me about yourself.”
“Oh,” she whispered softly, a small amount of relief filling her.
“So, just tell me if you're going to leave me because of this,” Manson hissed angrily, making her head shoot up to look at him. His whole body was tense and rage filled his pale figure.
“Why would I leave? None of this is your fault,” Raven replied, astonishment filling her voice. Her answer seemed to knock him off balance, he blinked a bit in surprise before the anger came back.
“That's what some of them say until Dita starts upping the ante. Trust me, she's just barely gotten started,” he whispered, his mismatched eyes hard and bitter.
“Why don't you tell the police about this behavior?” she asked, starting to move towards him slowly. She had to pick her way carefully around bits of broken wood until she stood in front of him. His mismatched eyes burned in his pale face as he glowered down at her, his shoulder length black hair hanging in his face. Up this close, Raven could see every faded scar that criss-crossed across his pale chest. She found herself distantly wondering how many of them were caused by self-harm and how many were from performing.
“I have. They said that as long as she isn't threatening, there isn't anything they can do,” he hissed, the tattoos on his arms rippling slightly as he tensed his fists.
“Okay then, block her number. She may have all the cards but we can show her this won't bother us,” Raven suggesting. She wished she could follow her own advice. Despite what she was saying to Manson what Dita had done bothered her greatly. She suddenly felt extremely vulnerable and unprotected but she didn't dare show that to Manson. In the state he was in he was bound to take it badly.
“That'll only cause her to escalate. Besides I don't dare block her number. Answering her calls are the only way to find out just what she's done,” he growled.
“I don't care what she does! I won't leave you because of her! I've waited for you for far too long just to let you go!” Raven exclaimed before clapping a hand over her mouth. Silence filled the room as Manson stared at her. Not being able to look in his eyes, Raven backed away as horror filled her. She had meant to tell him just how long she had been longing for him a lot later in their relationship.
“How long?” he whispered, his hair hiding his expression. Tension filled the room as Raven backed up to the entryway of the living room.
“I'm not comfortable saying. I know that it'll be really creepy and put me in a wrong light. I wanted to wait until our relationship was established before I told you,” she replied, marveling at how steady her voice was. Her entire body was shaking like a leaf and panic was filling her entire body, making her fingers tingle.
“Am I just an obsession? A trophy you were waiting to claim?” he responded softly, his voice rough and deadly sounding.
“Of course not! For fucks sake! I would never start a relationship with someone just because I was obsessed with them! If you recall I was hesitant to even call this a relationship because we barely know each other!” she yelled, anger and fear fighting for dominance in her small body.
“How do I know any of that is true?” he whispered, his voice far too soft and quiet.
Raven stared at him aghast, then some of what Ginger said came back to her. He was just using it as an excuse to try to push her away. She would have to show him just how much he meant to her and what this situation was doing to her. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and began to sing. “She's made of hair and bone and little teeth and things that cannot speak,” she sang softly, noticing that his head shot up and his eyes met hers harshly.
“She comes on like a crippled plaything. Her spine is just a string,” she whispered, feeling a bit more confident.
“Raven, stop,” he hissed, his voice full of warning as his bloody hands twitched.
“I wrapped our love in all this foil. Silver tight like spider legs. I never wanted it to ever spoil but flies will lay their eggs,” she hissed her voice filling with anger and regret. The singer flinched back, a snarl on his pale face.
“Take your hatred out on me! Make your victim my head!” she yelled, sounding exasperated and angry.
“Raven, stop!” he yelled, clenching his bleeding hands again.
“You never ever believed in me. I am your tourniquet,” she whispered, her voice going from frustrated to defeated and sad.
Suddenly he was in front of her, glaring down at her with angry, mismatched eyes. His bleeding hands were pressed against the wall on either side of her head as he leaned toward her. Effectively caging her with his body, the singer glowered down at her heatedly. “Last chance,” he hissed, something flickering violently in his eyes.
“Prosthetic synthesis and butterfly. Sealed up with virgin stitch. If it hurts baby, please tell meeehee. Preserve the innocence,” she sang, her voice full of sadness as she met his eyes. Manson snarled viciously at her, scraping his black nails on the white walls by her head.
“I never wanted it to end like this but flies will lay their eggs,” she whispered, her voice full of sad acceptance. He stiffened at that line, something flickering in his mismatched eyes before all the rage left him.
“Take your hatred out on me. Make your victim my head,” she whispered, placing a hand on his bare arm as tenderness and understanding filled her voice. The next line was interrupted by a harsh kiss.
Manson wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her away from the wall and against his body. His tongue demanded entrance before fairly plunging into her mouth once it opened. The kiss was harsh and desperate as he held her in an almost crushing grip. One hand moved up to tangle in her black hair while the other moved down to grip her butt possessively. Then, as suddenly as he started the kiss, he broke it and shoved her away from him.
Raven looked at him with a mixture of confusion and hurt as her heart thumped erratically in her chest. Her lips still tingled from the harsh kiss and a low ache of arousal burned in her loins. What on Earth had that been about? “I'll be going on tour,” he growled, not meeting her eyes.
“What?” she asked, feeling even more confused.
“I was on tour when I first met you and I have to finish that up,” he replied, moving past her and towards the stairs.
“Are you just using it as an excuse to run away?” she asked quietly, turning to look at him. The singer froze, turning his head to glare back at her. The anger in his eyes caused her blood to run cold and she very nearly bolted. Despite the fact he hadn't actually answered her, Raven knew she had her answer. The singer was terrified under all the bluster. What he was terrified of, she didn't know.
“Marilyn, take me with you,” she pleaded, walking up to him and placing a cautious hand on his bare arm. The look he gave her was almost enough to make her back away. His mismatched eyes blazed with rage as he yanked his arm out of her grasp.
“Afraid I'll be unfaithful,” he hissed, his whitish blue and brown eyes narrowing.
“That didn't even cross my mind! Why are you being such a dick?” Raven snarled, running a hand through her black hair. She knew he was just trying to push her away any way he could but she wasn't willing to let him do that. She had to break through to him somehow.
“I have no interest in prolonging the inevitable. Its better if we stop seeing each other now,” he growled, not looking at her.
Raven felt as if the world fell away at her feet. She felt as if she had been gutted by a sharp knife, all of her innards dropping through the crumbled hole of the world below her. “You don't mean that,” she gasped out breathlessly, her heart nearly ceasing to beat as she struggled to draw breath. Her extremities felt numb and tingly as the color began to bleed from her vision.
“Oh, but I do. I'd rather save myself the heartbreak of you leaving,” he growled, his bleeding hand tightening on the railing on the stairs.
“You... you aren't even going to give me a chance to prove myself?” she asked in a small voice, struggling to speak around the lump in her throat. Slowly she slid to her knees, sharp splinters of wood poked into her legs but she ignored it. It was all she could do to keep breathing as her heart clenched into a painful ball in her chest. Hot tears rolled down her pale cheeks as she covered her mouth to hide her sobs. She had barely known him, why did this hurt so much?
“I already know the results. It all ends the same,” he responded quietly, the muscles in his back tensed as he refused to look back at her.
“It won't end the same with me. Please, don't do this. At least take some time to cool off first,” she pleaded in a weak voice, her hand clenched in her Marilyn Manson t-shirt; right above her aching heart.
“No matter how much time I give this, it won't work. The bitch is right about one thing, it all ends the same,” he repeated, as if reciting a mantra.
“Ever hear of self-fulfilling prophecy?” she whispered, struggling to her feet as she pushed the emotional pain under a rug. Wincing at the feeling of wood and glass that had torn through her black jeans and into her legs, Raven leaned against a wall before stumbling towards him. Every step was agony as the glass and wood jostled inside fresh wounds but she ignored the pain as she walked up to the rock star.
Manson turned his head slightly to look at her, shock registering on his face. He obviously hadn't expected her to be walking around. His eyes flicked to her legs as an expression of concern began to replace the cold mask of indifference. “How badly are you hurt?” he whispered, moving towards her immediately.
“That doesn't matter. No matter what you do or say, I'll prove to you that I want this; no matter how hard it is,” she responded, her voice full of determination as she approached him.
Once she was close enough the black haired female grabbed Manson's waist roughly, pulling him close to her. “Raven, let go. I need to check your wounds,” he semi-ordered as he tried to wriggle out of her grasp.
“I'm not letting go until I show you just how much I love you,” Raven whispered, moving her hands up to grasp his face. His concerned, mismatched eyes met her love and sadness filled hazel ones as she stood on her tip-toes.
“Raven, don't...,” he whispered, trying to incline his head away to no avail.
“Too late,” she murmured, forcing his head back face her with her hands. Gently, lovingly, Raven's lips met his. He stiffened under her, his lips pursing tightly as she held his head to hers. Tears rolling from her closed eyes, Raven began pouring all of her feelings for the man in her arms into the kiss. 'Please. Please,' she begged silently as her tongue gently licked at his slowly relaxing lips.
The kiss stretched on far too long with no response from the far too stiff rock star. With a small sob against his lips, Raven began to break the kiss until his arms wrapped tightly around her. His mouth was hot and open on hers as his tongue fairly plundered her mouth. Raven met his fierceness with her own, removing her hands from his face to wrap around his waist. Manson growled at her response, tightening his hold on her imperceptibly.
Finally he broke the kiss with a groan, resting his forehead on hers while they both panted. Fear, love and lust battled for dominance in his eyes as he stared at her. His hands shook slightly on her back, clenching and unclenching. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered softly, running a hand down her cheek.
“Does that mean you aren't leaving me?” she whispered, leaning into his touch, capturing his hand and kissing his thumb gently. The singer drug in a ragged sigh, the arm still holding her flexing slightly.
“I couldn't if I wanted to,” he whispered, rubbing his forehead against hers. Then he pulled back, glaring down at the blood on her black jeans.
“Come on, we have to take care of those,” he growled, tugging her upstairs and into the bathroom.
“Then what was that earlier?” Raven asked as she sat on the closed lid of the toilet.
“I doubt I would have been able to keep away from you for very long,” he murmured, his voice rough as he rummaged through the cupboard under the sink.
“Why leave at all?” she asked quietly, watching as he pulled out a container of cotton balls, rubbing alcohol and a box of band-aids.
Manson turned to her, defeat and sadness evident in his face. “Because, for some reason, you're different than anyone I've been with. I felt guilty for sleeping with that whore when I've never felt guilty for it before,” he whispered, staring into her eyes intently.
“That's... wow,” she whispered softly, awe and a rush of love filling her.
“Now, take off your pants,” he ordered, crossing his arms over his bare chest.
“Wh-what?” she sputtered, going red and recoiling in horror.
Manson sighed, looking amused and frustrated as he shook his head. “Raven, as much as I would love to ravish you, I just want to take a look at your wounds,” he replied, a small grin quirking his lips.
“Oh, right,” she gasped, getting to her feet. She had forgotten about that. Taking in a deep, shaky breath, Raven began to unbutton her black jeans with unsteady hands. Already panic filled her chest and she was having trouble breathing. Biting her lip to keep from sobbing, Raven slowly unzipped her pants.
The fact that she was having such difficulty wasn't lost on Manson. Noticing that she had begun shaking like a leaf while just unbuttoning her pants, the singer had averted his gaze. As much as he longed to see her without her clothes he didn't want to traumatize her. “Raven, its okay. I'm not watching,” he whispered, his mismatched eyes focused on the white tile of the bathroom floor.
Raven felt sad at the relief that filled her body at his statement. Could she ever be comfortable enough around him to be able to take of her clothes without having a full blown panic attack? Angry tears prickling in her eyes, the black haired female pulled off her jeans and sat on the closed lid of the toilet. “Okay,” she whispered, tugging the hem of her shirt over her lap to hide her panties.
Manson approached her slowly, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor until her bare feet came into view. Raising his gaze slightly so he saw her wounds and nothing more, the singer knelt down to examine the wounds. Making a small hiss of displeasure, Manson gently began to remove bits of wood and glass from the wounds with tweezers.
Raven flinched, making a pained noise as she watched him. The fact that he respected her enough to keep his gaze on her wounds made her smile. He was acting like such a gentleman, a sharp contrast from how the papers had portrayed him. “I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt even worse,” he whispered, pressing a cotton ball against the opening of the bottle of rubbing alcohol and tipping until the cotton was damp. Then he began to gently dab at the small wounds, drawing small whimpers of pain from her lips.
“Raven, if you can stop that, it would be appreciated,” came his strained voice as he continued to gently dab.
Raven blinked at the tone of his voice. It almost sounded as if her pain was tearing him apart. Nodding slightly, she bit her lower lip to muffle her noises of pain. It worked until he had to dab a particularly long, wide, shallow wound. Raven bit her lip hard, tasting the coppery taste of her own blood as she flinched back. “Almost done,” he soothed, running a hand down an uninjured part of her leg.
Then it was over and he began to gently place band-aids over the wounds. Once he was done the singer straightened, his mismatched gaze going to the blood trickling from her lower lip. Growling softly, Manson gently took her face in his hands; his burning gaze fixed on the small trickle of blood. “Manson, wha?” she began, gasping as he slowly licked away the small trail of blood.
Then singer stiffened against her, letting out a low growl of satisfaction as his eyes closed. He held the coppery fluid in his mouth as long as he could, savoring the taste of her life fluid. Then, reluctantly, he swallowed before opening his eyes and fixing his gaze on her. “Better than wine,” he whispered softly, cupping her cheek.
“Uh, erm... what about your wounds,” she gasped, grasping at any reason to make him back off right now. The way he was looking at her as well as the tone of his voice was doing odd things to her insides. Not to mention the fact that he had licked her blood had been oddly arousing. If she didn't get some space soon she may just give in to her urge to let him ravage her.
“What about them,” he growled softly, moving to nip gently under her chin.
“I sh-should dress them,” she whispered, closing her eyes and fighting a valiant battle against her own body. Everything inside of her was screaming for her to just let him take her. She was so aroused that the tips of her fingers tingled and her womanhood pulsed in delicious agony.
“What's the rush,” he whispered, his voice rough and husky as his lips brushed against her racing pulse.
“D-don't want them to get infected,” she whispered, her voice sounding just as rough and husky. Deep down she didn't want him to stop, she wanted him to keep going; to just fucking take her already. The force of that mindless need scared her deeply. Even with her other boyfriends she had never felt such a deep, ravenous need.
To both her relief and disappointment the singer pulled back, offering his bleeding hands to her. The knuckles were torn badly and bleeding freely, making her stomach lurch slightly. Despite loving gory horror movies the sight of real blood always made her feel like puking. “These look pretty bad,” she whispered softly, reaching down and grabbing the alcohol and box of cotton balls.
“That'll happen when you punch walls,” he responded, a hint of amusement threaded in his voice.
Smiling sadly, Raving dabbed an alcohol soaked cotton ball gently against the open wounds on his left hand. Manson hissed in pain but didn't try to pull back his hand. “I'm sorry,” she whispered softly, still gently dabbing. Once she was satisfied with one hand, she cautiously moved to the other. The singer made a pained noise as she gently dabbed at the wounds.
“Almost done,” she assured, finishing up on cleaning the shallow wounds.
Realizing band-aids simply weren't going to be enough, Raven dashed to the cupboard under the sink and dug around for the gauze. She seemed oblivious to the fact that she still lacked pants and was giving Manson quite the show. With a noise of triumph she grabbed the roll of gauze, scampering back to the singer. As she gently wrapped his hands she missed the look of raw lust on his face while he looked down at her. “There, all better,” she stated, giving the freshly bandaged appendages a gentle kiss each.
Manson stared down at the small woman, a deep hunger in his mismatched eyes. Right now he wanted nothing more than to kiss her senseless, carry her to the bedroom and fuck her into the mattress. Just the brief view of her lime green panties had been enough to fan his desire into a roaring flame. “Not quite,” he growled softly, pulling her into his arms gently.
“Now its better,” he purred, burrowing his nose into the crook of her neck. She smelled like oranges and lilac today with a hint of another, far more spicy scent buried underneath. His need for her grew to the point of excruciating pain and he groaned as he pressed his lower body against hers needily.
Raven's hazel eyes went wide as both embarrassment and arousal washed through her as she felt his arousal against her. Just the knowledge that she had caused such a reaction in him made her confidence shoot up a few pegs. “M-marilyn?” she whispered in an unsure voice, more than just a little afraid to look him in the eyes.
“Oh god Raven, I need you,” he hissed heatedly, pressing his steel hardness against her thigh.
The tone of his voice making her gaze snap to his, Raven gasped at the raw need and lust burning in his mismatched orbs. She made a small noise as a throb of painful arousal shot through her womanhood. Knowing she wouldn't be able to put up much resistance if she kept looking at him, the small female lowered her gaze to focus on his platforms. This action caused Manson to growl low in his chest as he gripped her chin in a rough grip, lifting her face. “Look at me!” he snarled harshly when she still avoided his gaze, giving her chin a small shake.
Timidly, Raven locked her gaze with his; nearly going weak in the knees from the intensity of the emotions in his eyes. “Oh god, Marilyn,” she gasped, a bit of her need slipping into her voice. The singer closed his eyes, dragging in a ragged breath before he kissed her. The kiss was gentle at first but quickly heightened in intensity as one of his hands tangled in her hair while his tongue swirled inside her mouth.
“Hey Raven! You okay up there?” came a worried male voice from downstairs.
Reluctantly, Raven broke the kiss. “Yeah! I'm fine! He's calmed down quite a bit!” she called back. She couldn't help but notice that Manson's arms trembled slightly and his breathing was harsh and ragged.
“Don't you dare think of stopping,” he snarled, tightening his hold on her. His eyes had an almost desperate light in them as he stared down at her intently. His rock hard member twitched against her leg, causing him to moan softly and close his eyes. He was so aroused it was extremely painful and he desperately wanted to relieve it with woman in his arms.
Raven looked at the panting, pained looking rock star, biting her lower lip. His desperation made her own arousal heighten to the point of extreme need but she was still hesitant. She knew that if she stripped in front of him right now she would burst into tears and the moment would be ruined. With a blush, she realized there was another way to relieve him without causing herself undue trauma. “I-I'm not ready for what you're hoping for but I have another idea,” she whispered, unable to look him in the eyes as embarrassment began to rise within her.
“And what is that?” he asked in a husky voice.
Raven swallowed thickly, trying to pull out of his tight grasp. This only caused a low growl as he tightened his hold. “Y-you have to let me go first,” she whispered, placing a timid hand on his bare chest. Manson made a displeased noise before he released her. Thankful that her shirt was just long enough to shield her panties from his burning gaze, Raven quickly pulled on her black jeans before grabbing one of his bandaged hands gently. With a gentle but insistent tug she led him out of the bathroom and down the hall to his temporary bedroom.
Manson closed the door, locking it behind him before he wrapped his arms around Raven again. He grinned as she shuddered in his arms before snuggling into his bare chest. Slowly, his wrapped hands roamed down her back to rest on her hips. “You're so damn beautiful,” he breathed, nipping gently at the crook of her neck.
Raven closed her eyes, her breath caught in her throat had what he had just said. Marilyn Manson, a man she would have thought impossible to get, had just called her beautiful. The fact filled her with happiness, lust and love. “Oh Marilyn. I love you so much,” she whispered, two small tears of happiness escaping her hazel eyes as she cupped his pale cheek. Then she pulled free of his hold with a small, nervous smile.
“C-could you sit on the bed?” she asked timidly, her face a deep red as she looked at the carpet. Her pale hands fiddled with the hem of her black t-shirt fitfully.
Tilting his head in confusion, the performer prowled towards the bed and sat down. His mismatched eyes stayed focused on her intently while she continued to fidget. Raven looked up at him, biting her lower lip cutely before walking cautiously over to him. As she got closer to him, she couldn't help but feel more and more nervous. She had only done this a few times with her previous boyfriends, Manson had probably had this done to him by far more skilled women.
Moving a strand of her ebony hair behind her ear, Raven went to her knees between Manson's black jeans covered legs. Trying to steady her breathing as well as her nervous heartbeat, Raven rubbed the tops of his thighs slowly while she took in several calming breaths. “Raven?” he growled, sounding confused as well as a tad surprised. Taking in another deep breath and blowing it out slowly, Raven reached for the button on his jeans and unfastened it with an audible snap.
With her heart beating in her throat and her arousal fairly soaking the material of her lime green panties, Raven slowly dragged down his zipper. She hitched in an unsteady breath at the sound of it running down. With an unsteady hand, she reached in and freed his throbbing hardness. It stood six inches from a nest of dark pubes and a bead of pre dribbled out of the small slit in the top. Grasping the velvety hardness in her hand, she closed her eyes and tried to psyche herself up.
“Raven, no. You don't have to...,” the singer began to protest, beginning to reach down to pull her up.
Before he could grab hold of her, Raven licked timidly at his tip. The small action was enough to make him freeze as a small moan left his lips. Emboldened by his reaction, the black haired female slowly licked his shaft from base to tip with one long stroke of her hot tongue. The singer stiffened under her, his breath catching slightly as his hands twisted in the black silk bed sheets. “Oh fuck,” he hissed huskily. Smiling slightly, Raven did it again; earning the same response.
Eyeing his twitching length warily, Raven positioned her mouth over his tip and slowly began to engulf him in her warm mouth. She held her black hair out of her face as she took him part of the way into her mouth. Manson groaned heatedly, his hips moving up slightly as she slid her mouth down on his pulsing length. “Oh shit, Raven,” he hissed, his voice rough and shaky as his thighs fairly shook with the effort of stopping himself from thrusting into her hot mouth.
Breathing through her nose, Raven managed to get him halfway in her mouth before her gag reflex started to kick in. Using her hand to make up the difference, Raven began to move slowly up and down. Her tongue wrapped around his rock hard shaft as she moved her tight mouth slowly up and down while sucking. Manson groaned, throwing back his head and wrapping a hand in her black hair. “Oh ffffuuuuck,” his hissed harshly, tightening his grip on the sheets as she began to move faster.
Small spurts of salty pre dribbled onto her tongue as she continued fairly suckling his shaft. His small moans and growls only drove her onward, her own loins pulsing with need. She had never enjoyed sucking anyone off before and was amazed by how aroused this was making her. “R-raven, s-stop... I'm gonna,” he hissed, tensing his thighs as he tried to fight off his orgasm. Determined to savor all of him, Raven continued; much to the singer's apparent dismay.
“Sh-shit. R-raven s-stop! Oh fuck... I c-can't hold it much l-longer,” he growled through clenched teeth as his member swelled within her tight mouth. Then both of his hands gripped the top of her head, shoving her down on his pulsing shaft as he exploded into the back of her throat.
Breathing through her nose while she gagged helplessly, Raven fought to relax her throat while he poured his hot, salty seed down her throat. After an endless moment, her throat finally relaxed and the gagging stopped. Swallowing reflexively, Raven took everything he offered until he pulled his softening member from her mouth with a pop.
Manson laid back, grabbing her and pulling her roughly on top of him while he kissed her heatedly. His tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting the saltiness of his own cum on her tongue and finding he enjoyed the taste. After few minutes he pulled back, his burning mismatched eyes meeting hers. “I'll have to return the favor some day,” he purred silkily, gently caressing her face with a bandaged hand.
Raven blushed a deep crimson, chuckling uneasily as she tried to roll off of the rock star. Manson only tightened his hold, rolling them so they both laid on their sides. His mismatched eyes met her hazel ones steadily as he tenderly moved a strand of her black hair behind her ear. “I'm going to miss you while I'm on tour,” he whispered softly, his hand coming down to cup her pale cheek.
“Are you sure I can't come?” Raven wheedled, finding herself not wanting to be separated from him again.
“Unfortunately yes. Just like there are things you want to wait to tell me, there are things I want to keep from you for the time being,” he whispered, wrapping a tattooed arm around her thin waist.
“I guess that's fair. So, are you gonna pay for the hotel as well as the damages?” Raven quipped, slapping his scarred chest playfully. The only response she got was a deep chuckle before her lips were captured in a tender kiss.
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