Shall it be Lima or Stockholm?
Intro; AU. He was a rival, an enemy, but still… why did she love him? Gajeel, the Hitman for Phantom Lord, the seedy bastard wheedled his way into the very heart he had shattered. Levy, the informant for Fairy Tail, captured and held for ransom. As the two war, who shall be killed, and who shall be saved?
Info: Contains mature themes, gang violence, and torture.
Longest chapter yet, heavily rated M.
Laying With a Beast
8
She stirred in her sleep, her eyes fluttering gently as her dream began to fade away and reality replacing it. He ran his hand through the mysterious blue curls, still slightly damp from the bath incident. He just couldn't get it out of his head, his thumb running down her temple.
He gnawed on his lip, anxiety running through his tempered steel nerves. He wanted her to awaken, to be the woman he has shoved against the stone wall and cleanly broken apart in a matter of moments.
That seemed so far away now, so much had happened. He thought over the past few days, the progression of his condition to this insanity before him. He felt untouched, a thirst deep inside him wanted to sate itself on her blood, on her cries of ecstasy that he could bring forth with the brush of his hands.
He wanted to travel down the imaginary scenarios, but the clock next to him betrayed his hopes by squishing them with a firm hand. He sighed heavily and shifted her. He began to rummage through his drawers; pulling out the clothes, he needed for the time he would spend away form her. He had to look professional as he killed the not so innocent. He glanced over at Levy; she had curled around the pillow right where he has sat.
During the night she had shifted, her arms loosening and being flung in complete disorder. She had battered him like no other, but he allowed her to. Her clothes had slipped from her shoulders and hips, her skin so tantalizingly close that he could almost taste it on his lips.
He shook his head.
He stripped and dressed quickly, leaving without a second glance towards her.
"Lily, tell her I'll be back soon." He growled out as he passed the cat on the couch, the damned cat shook his head and almost smirked at Gajeel's grumpiness.
"Al right." He licked his forearm and rubbed his left ear with it, cleaning himself thoroughly.
The door shut gently, Lily knew he did it on purpose. He usually left with a loud bang and huff, but today it was a whisper and not a single sound.
"He's got it bad." He mumbled more to himself than the air around him.
He listened to the quiet sounds of the rooms that surrounded him. The click of the clock on the far wall, the low hum of the TV even though it was off, the buzz of a refrigerator as the coils cooled themselves down. He lay there, enjoying the sounds of his home. He looked away from the clock to turn back and see that three hours had passed while he had daydreamed. Levy's quiet breathing reached him, still even and deep, she hadn't stirred since Gajeel had left. He felt the winds change and her breathing began to quicken.
He felt her anxiety spill forth from her, her scent tainted with the fear.
He small cry alerted him even further.
He leapt down and padded into the dark room.
"Levy?" He gently called out, his voice just above a whisper trying not to disturb her.
Her sniffle answered.
"He'll be back very soon; he had to go to work." He leapt up onto the bed, his tail curled around his feet. His ears flicked as his eyes narrowed as he observed the girl before him.
"Where is he?" The need in her voice began to seep into him, making him wonder what Gajeel had done to her the night before. "Where is he?" Her voice peaked an octave, her hands clenching the sheets around her, the top slipping further down and tears streaming down both of her cheeks as she clenched her teeth.
"He'll be back soon." That was all he could say, he had nothing else to comfort the girl with.
She slipped under the sheet where she quivered in her skin. She needed him.
Lily left her be, nudging the door to close behind him. He knew it would take sometime before her nerves stopped firing the need to fear, he himself knew the feeling all too well. He concentrated upon his small lingering amounts of magic that still flowed within his veins, now towering over the counter he searched for the small phone that was to be used in emergencies only. He picked up the phone, his large fingers still nimble. He pushed the buttons in accord, sending Gajeel the message in a matter of moments.
He let himself shrink, his breathing coming in great heaves for his tiny body. He wasn't used to pushing himself into that form, not since his magic had been drained considerably. Oh, that reminded him, Levy still had the seal engraved into her firm stomach, and it had glared at him while she had run around buck naked the day before.
Not too far away Gajeel carried out his usual job, but his heart just wasn't in it. He wanted her skin to break under his force, her cried to reach his ears, it seemed he only wanted her and it was a want that bordered on need.
The man cowered before him, begging to be spared, spouting bull-shit about having the money by tomorrow.
"You're just out of fucking luck, you know that bitch?" He slammed his foot into the mans groin, he doubled over in pain and retched on the ground. "I'm in a shitty ass mood, and I want to beat some ass." He smirked, blood dripped form his chin.
The gore around him barely tickled his senses; he had been numb to killing since his seventh year on this god-damned world. He hissed angrily and laid waste to the man before him. His anger being taken out on the poor fool.
Gajeel lost count of how May times he had dragged the man up only to throw him violently back. His memories flashed in quick succession.
Levy pinned to the stone wall. Levy wailing for the little fuckers to run. Levy wailing in turn with pain as he punished her. Levy in the whitewashed room, terrified and looking positively edible. Levy laying in his bed, her blue curls spread around her, the clothes slipping from her slowly as she tossed restlessly. Levy screaming out as he smashed her against the wall. Levy and her blood staining his hands. Levy staining his mind with thoughts of her.
He howled angrily, his anger reaching new levels.
By the time he was done with the man, he knew the money would never make its way into his pockets. The shit-head had both feet in the grave and dead men never pay their dues. He felt unsatisfied, but he didn't know where to go to quench this hunger. He roared out his anger, a small vibration against his leg angered him even more.
He dug in his damned pocket, looking for the piece of shit technology. He just wasn't in the mood for anything but Levy.
He read the text quickly and let out a deep breath, his nerves returning to their tempered ways.
Gajeel trudged from the scene of the crime, the fuzz would be scouring the place and they would find nothing that tied it to him. Even if they did, what the fuck could they do to him? Being nearly on top of one of the biggest gangs in the country did help keep them off your ass.
He quickly returned to home base, ignoring every single one of the bastards before him. He brushed them off for they didn't matter to him in the slightest.
His feet brought him to his destination in a matter of minutes, his aura keeping all those who even dared approach him back off quickly before he even had to say a word. Once down his hallway he allowed it to ebb around to let her need of him wash over his mind. She needed him, and he liked that. She was his, she would always need him.
The door opened silently, but what greeted him was anything but. She ran into him, head first. Her fingers curling into the fabric of his clothes, her face pressed against his chest. She shook against him. He let the shock ebb away before he attentively wrapped his arms away.
"Ahh-I- hic didn't k-know! Hic, w-where y-y-you went t-to!" She sobbed. He rested a hand on her head and picked her up to move into the room. He pushed the door shut with his foot.
"Damn, so'okay now. I'm back." He felt awkward in this situation; usually he was beating the shit out of someone, not comforting them. She sniffed and sobbed into his, her need breaking over him like a soothing wave.
Lily eyed them before finding a quiet corner to curl into a ball and sleep in.
He shuffled her foreword so they could lay on the couch; he shifted her so she lay over him. Her fingers turning purple from loss of blood as she continued to keep her death-grip on him. Her sobs died away, but she still quivered. Her face slowly turned upwards to look at him; she lay comfortably on top of him with her legs placed between his. Her brown orbs watching him as he watched her.
"I had to work." He answered her unasked question. She nodded, understanding. Her breathing evened out and her fear and sadness disappeared form her scent.
"Daddy used to work a lot too. He would come home, smelling like blood and bad water." She lay own again, her head turned to the side on his chest, listening to his heart beat deep within his chest. "He would beat me those days, beat me and say he loved me more than anyone else. I cried for him. He never cried, not once!" She proudly boasted, the horror of her life unfolding before him.
"Daddy was proud of me, my magic was soo strong." She whispered now. "He would make me do bad work with him, my magic doing bad things. But Daddy always praised me, patting me on the head and kissing my forehead. I would cry for myself." She let out a long breath. "Mommy was gone by then, she left when he came home smelling like blood and the bad water, he said she left one night and never came back, leaving me behind because she didn't love me." The outburst form earlier had drained her; his anger had emptied the already dead batteries. Both began to phase out, but not before, she managed one last thing.
"Shh, I know a secret though. Mommy loved me. She always said she did. Daddy killed Mommy because she loved me more than him. Daddy was a good man, I love him too. He was a good Daddy." She whispered. "I hate him."
Shock ran through his system. She jerked above him, keeping herself awake.
"Markov took me, he became my new Daddy. He forgave me and told me I was a good girl. He would pat me on the head and kiss my forehead each night. He took care of a lot of us, others like me but not like me. My magic was strong, and I knew the smell of blood. I like it. It's a good smell." She rolled to face him. "Can I tell you a secret?" She leaned closer, her lips playing on a smile.
He nodded, the shock stilling running like electricity through him, thousands of volts jumping from each nerve as he listened to her past, so much like his own.
"I killed him." She played with her hair. "I made him say sorry, he patted me on the head and kissed my forehead and told me I was a good girl." She touched her forehead gently. Tear beginning to well up one more. Her fuzzy vision focused on him. "He was a good Daddy. But he couldn't stop doing bad things. I loved him. I hated him. I still do. I killed him."
She buried her face in his neck, letting the tears fall silently. Her shoulders didn't shake nor did she gasp for breath as she cried silently like used to in the dark of the nights where she cried for her Daddy and herself. He had taught her how to cry without letting others know. She had kept his secrets. She had helped him into bed, and she had fed him when he couldn't move. She had been a good girl, he always told her that. She let her grip loosen.
"I'm a good girl." She pushed herself up. "I'm a good girl, right?" Panic flooded those watery eyes.
His own eyes wide, his breath caught within his chest. She was like him. She was like him. He let out a breath and focused on her. He leaned foreword and patted her head, his lips brushing her forehead.
"You're a good girl."
She sagged foreword, relief etched on her features.
The silence enveloped them comfortably. His heart beat tattooing her brain gently, she felt it slow until only a steady beat remained. He had fallen asleep. She gazed up at him, the dark bags under his eyes were an angry purple. He hadn't slept for a long time.
She rested against him, thinking about how she had met him. Something was missing. It hurt to think about. She wondered why she had been in the white room, but she didn't remember where she had been before that. She kept thinking, her brain creaking with each though as it ached and pulsed angrily with pain.
She tried to recall this person that had become so important to her; she wondered how they had met again. Her mind ran in circles, her lips began to purse angrily as she fought against the invisible barrier that kept her from remembering.
Her body had gotten bigger; she was just like Mommy before she had died. She remembered being small, small and her voice had been different. She remembered being at the house, she knew too well, her friends had surrounded her happily.
Once again, she took a loop through the circle, her frustration fueling her strength.
She broke that barrier down and stiffened as it rushed back to her.
Sitting in the bar and wondering about the drink she held in her hands. The call and the fear that had gripped her soul. The fear that had consumed her as her screams reached Jet and Droy, warning them and begging them to run away. Gajeel as he towered over her, his fists beating her bloody. Gajeel as her mercilessly tortured her. Gajeel and his angry words that had burned deep within her, memories of her father returning with a new wave of pain. Gajeel standing over her, protecting her from Jose who had threatened her. Gajeel sticking his neck out to keep her safe. Gajeel taking care of her. Gajeel holding her tightly when she had ran to him. The look on his face as she had burst from the bathroom, clad only in bubbles. Gajeel and the look he had as she spoke of her past. Gajeel and the heartbeat that still remained steady beneath her. Gajeel who had dominated her but still found a way to hold her gently in her sleep.
She rested her head against him, confused feelings buzzing between her ears.
There was no denying it, she hated him. She felt it well deep within her. She felt a new emotion overtake it and pummel it into submission. She loved him. It overflowed in her, the need to stay right where she was. To feel his heat surround her, to feel him dominated and conquer her. She enjoyed that feeling; the fascination of it filled her as well. Her bruises had faded; the aches didn't remain any longer. Her anger rose but was quelled when he sighed gently, wrapping his arms even tighter around her and rolling on his side.
He dragged her with him, his face pressed into the crown of her head. He took a deep breath and breathed out her name gently.
She let him lay there; holding her like his life depended on it.
No hope left, she was in love with this sick bastard. He had done so much to hurt her, and yet he had taken her in and healed her with simple actions. She just couldn't understand it. A quote came to the front of her mind. Love makes you do crazy things. She agreed silently to it.
She felt his moved against her, his muscles rippling under his skin. His legs wrapping around her, even in his sleep he wished to conquer her. He licked his lips and nibbled on them, sighing contently.
He was covered in blood and grime, yet she didn't care. She liked the smell of blood after all, being surrounded by if from a young age did that to you.
He shifted again, restlessly he rolled to smash her against the back of the couch, her body pinned between him and the leather. She curled against him, happily letting him move her as he pleased.
She watched those lips, the ones that had spewed wicked words of hurt. Those lips had comforted her not too long ago. She reached up and brushed those lips, her fingers tracing them gently. She was surprised at how soft they were, their texture making her wonder what kissing them would feel like.
She squirmed in his grasp, levering her way up. Her lips brushing his, he growled in his sleep, teeth bared and lips drawn back. His hands gripped her sides, a single eye cracked open. He met her, her eyes filling him on what he had missed.
"Hmm." He hummed to himself and shut those eyes again, he ignored her.
"Bastard."
"Always." He chuckled and knocked his forehead against hers.
She scowled, "I hate you."
"You're body betrays you. You may smell blood, but I smell something so much more." He smirked, his piercings catching the dim light of the small appliances that surrounded them. He shifted his body to let his knuckle brush the underside of her breast.
She gasped and leaned away from him. "I hate you." She growled, he liked this side to her, he liked it so much more the fucking innocent child he had taken car of before.
"I hate you too." He loomed overhead, pinning her under him took barely a fingers worth of energy. "I hate you so much that I wonder why I love you." He ran his nose over her neck, taking in deep breaths and letting her scent wash over him. He growled into her neck, letting his teeth brush her pulse, dangerously close to sinking his teeth into her delicate skin.
Her arms snaked around his neck and yanked him up by the roots of his hair, their noses brushed. "I have a habit of loving what I hate." She mumbled, her mind blazing and her nerves singing happily at her confession.
"What a fucking coincidence, same here." He leaned hi, pushing her against the plush leather.
His lips brushed her, gingerly, testing the waters before leaping in head first. He crushed his body against hers, she savored not being able to squirm away from him even if she wanted to. His lips burned hers, his heat consuming her. His hate mixed with love, tangible on his lips. She sneaked her tongue out and flicked against the corner of his mouth, tasting that mixed emotion. She reveled the taste on her tongue. Enjoying each moment as her taste buds put into a memory bank to save for later.
He growled against her, moving to the side to attack her neck. She felt his sharpened teeth nick her skin, just enough for a trickle of blood to state his thirst. He sucked deeply, pulling a bruise from deep within her skin. He liked his collection of marks upon her skin, marking her as his.
She ripped as his back, her nails nearly breaking his skin even though the thick shirt he worse. She arched against him, her pain buzzing with pleasure that threatened to render her legally insane. She nipped at his ear, her lips nibbling it gently before her teeth clamped down on the sensitive appendage.
He snarled and threw his head back, his mouth caught in a gape. He liked the pain as well. She smirked devilishly below him, her character opposite to the innocent bitch that had been sitting at the bar, sipping a kiddy drink. This was a seductress of the worst kind.
He devoured her lips, his mouth claiming her as his hands sneaked under his large shirt that didn't cover a damn thing anymore. His knuckles bumped against her ribs. She whined and arched towards him, her needy cried drawing a deep groan from his own chest.
He roughly grappled with the lemon sized breasts. She cried out, pain bordering on the edge of pleasure. He refused to stop, even as she begged for more. He kept it the same, driving her wild. She thrashed under him, her knees drawing dangerously close to his own growing need.
He snapped at her, his teeth clicking together in a sharp sound that shattered her. She fell limp to the couch.
"Good girl." He drawed out the r, rumbling it deep within his chest as he smirked against her skin as he watched her watch him. He shifted his knees, placing one between her legs, drawing it up till it bumped into her. Her head snapped up and her mouth was caught wide open, he took the opportunity to throw himself back into a rough kiss that had her begging for more.
He mouth opened against him, inviting him in. He savored her taste, each cry ringing in his own mouth. Each jerk of her muscles amplified in the empty expanse of their mouths pressed together. Her hands danced down his back, shifting his shirt out of her way. She mumbled something, along the lines of 'too much cloth.'
He leaned back, his knee digging into her. He watched her bend, fascinated as she arched high into the air. He stripped his head over his shirt and pulled the tank top off of her in turn. Those breasts bounced against her chest as she moaned deeply. The cold air caused gooseflesh to pop up along the lines. He smothered them with his hands, heating her skin with gently brushes. He placed his other kneed outside of her hips. He braced himself with one hand beside her head.
He gazed down on her, hunger burning her nerves as he singed her with looks. She began to sweat, her breath coming out in gasps. One hand played with her breast, pulling the dark nipple till they were taught before letting it snap back into place. He mouths its twin, nearly gnawing on it in ways that nearly hurt. Her hunger consumed her as well.
Her hands trailed over his chest, appreciating his trained muscles that began to quiver under the ticklish touches. She in turn was torturing him. He leaned back, her hands jumped at their chance. She struggled with his belt, her efforts in vain as he gripped her hands and pinned the above her head, her elbows bending as he leaned over her. His nose brushed her once again, her free hand trailing paths down her sides, she arched into it, and greedy as she was she needed this.
His hand finally made its way down to the line of his overly large pants she wore. They had already slipped so the line of tan was visible. He was pleased with her not wearing any else but his clothes. He growled happily, his teeth pressing against her jugular. Pressing hard enough to leave indentions.
She struggled, her fingers clutching at his wrists. She stilled when he dove into the depths of those pants, his fingers twisting, searching.
She arched painfully towards him, he need tumbling forth from her lips. Their shadows seemed to dance along the walls.
His fingers finally brushed her and she cried out, tears leaping to life again. She clutched at him, her nails drawing blood, filling that air around them with that carnal smell. His fingers dug into her, caressing and pinching the skin till she was slick and beyond ready for him. He wanted to tease her and make her scream his name to the heavens.
She whispered something, he didn't catch it but her tone was enough. He grunted and let his fingers work against her. He lipped her ear, making more than one muscle quiver. She cried out, making him smile devilishly.
"Look at you." He whispered into her ear as he began to let his middle finger rub her furiously, his hand slipped and he entered her up till his fist joint. She contracted around him, fighting to keep him in. He groaned against her. "You're my bitch." He growled, shoving the finger in as far as he could go. He curled it and felt her silent scream echo through his chest.
He shoved against her roughly, quickly adding another finger and letting her sob out, asking for more. He gladly gave it to her, this time her cry of pain was real. She sobbed and clutched his wrists, her nails scrapping him again. Her fear washed over him, breaking the heat of the moment.
He gently spread his digits, stretching her in preparation. He lipped her ear, trying to keep her focused on him. He released her hands and felt them wrap around his neck and constrict around him. Her head buried itself in his shoulder as she breathed heavily against him.
"Keep going." He nodded and pulled his fingers loose, she whimpered at the loss of contact. Her teeth digging into his shoulder with enough force to break the skin. She growled, wanting more and needing more. Blood dribbled down her chin, staining her with his crimson.
He pulled her pants down, letting her continue to grip him. He ripped himself free in his own time. He slid down her body till his head rested on her hip. He smirked like a cat that got is cream. She gazed at him with unfocused eyes, she didn't understand; she would soon enough.
He pinned her hips down with both hands and savored a breath of her pure scent. He watched her twitch under him, her need grasping at the air. He leaned in and listened to her peals of need.
He gave her a strong lick from top to bottom, her taste making him nearly droll. He hungrily leaned and devoured her. She thrashed, his arms strained to keep her hips connected to the leather. He nibbled here and nipped there, her sounds only for him and only about him.
She gripped his hair and dragged him up. She claimed his lips and her own hands ran down the length of his body. She took him by surprise as she flipped him to lay under her. She growled ferally when he tried to right himself. She leaned in and nipped him sharply on the ear. The rumble in his chest shook her as she leaned back to enjoy the feeling of skin on skin.
His bare chest was laid out before her. She traced patterns upon it, her fingers lightly brushing him and breaking his resolve with each scratch of her nails.
She giggled mercilessly above him, her grin spreading from ear to ear.
She leaned in and gripped his neck with her hands, tightening as she pleased and making him limp beneath her. He gazed at her, his eyes narrowed. She brushed his lips and allowed him to breathe again.
"Look at you." She whispered, her voice barely heard above his heart beat.
Her hand brushed behind her, making him jerk and push his hips into her hand. Damnit, he wanted her right then and there. He took no more shit and flipped her, not allowing her to resist. Her movements hindered by the weight of his chest on hers. He stripped his pants and boxers in one clean movement.
He moved to hover above her, searching her eyes for the slightest glimmer of regret. He grunted, satisfied with the heated look she returned. His reach between her legs to nudge them apart, hearing her suck in a deep breath and groan within her throat sent a sock straight to his dick.
He felt more than ready to rip her to shreds, to take her and break her, to make her only his. He would ruin her for everyone else, hell, he would never allow another man to glance her way.
She rested her hands on his neck, pulling him to look up at her. Her eyes met his and her lips moved silently. Her words ringing afterwards in his ears. She smiled gently, her love and hate in a perfect blend that drew his soul into the trap she had laid out cleanly before him.
His lips met hers, not in a clash of teeth nor did he taste blood, but only the perfect sweetness of her before him. Her lips were soft and small, perfectly fitting with his rough ones in ways he didn't understand. It felt so right.
Broken souls heal each other in ways those who are whole will never understand.
He lifted her hips and prepared her once again, her lips never leaving his skin while she gasped gently and rocked against his fingers.
He moved them out, braced himself with one, and used the other to line up with his chosen destination. She spread her legs further for him. She let her hands rest above her head, a sign of submission that brought her stomach muscles into a toned form.
He rocked foreword and brushed her heat. He chewed the inside of his lips, raw blood trickling down his throat. She jerked up, only an inch had penetrated her before the whimpers reach his ears. He rocked back and forth, sinking deeper with each stroke until he finally remained seated fully in her. A breathless voice told him to wait. He held still and felt her squeeze around him. He shut his eyes and groaned deeply. The rumbled transferred to her and she jerked violently. Another whispered reached him and he was all too glad to comply with what it asked.
He was barely able to focus, the heat of the warm silk that rippled around him. He pulled back to slam into the body beneath him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, gripping him to her and her arms scrabbled for purchase on his wide back.
The brutal pace began, their carnal need sounded through grunts and whimpers, cried and moans, and their bodies blending till they were one of mind and of body; neither knowing where one began and the other ended.
He pushed against her deeply, lipping her ear and groaning deeply when she tightened around him. He shifted her hips to reach a deeper place, her eyes shot open and her nails dug against him, drawing blood as she ran tracks along his skin. She opened her mouth wide, unable to register the pleasure in her.
Her heels dug into him, her fingers speaking ancient languages against him as he continue to mutilate her, breaking and piecing her back together again with each stoke.
He turned her around, ripped her grip from his form and forcing her to go face down into the leather. She turned her head to the side to gasp for breath as he went even further within her. He hunched over her, covering her with his warmth. He reaches around front to grip her breasts. He swayed with her in his set rhythm, digging deeper and deeper into her as he brushed parts of her unknown even to herself.
He felt the edge nearing, his sanity slipping. He threw away pattern to give way to the force and speed she as begging for with tear filled eyes. He snapped his hips foreword, his pace ruthless as the couch swayed under his strength. One hand left the breast to grip her hip, keeping her pinned closely to him. He rocked back and forth, grunted like a wounded animal.
"Fuck." He moaned out as she screamed, tears running tracks down her face.
"M-more!" He pushed harder, gripped harder, went faster, her own completion quivering around her as she back lashed and rode her orgasm.
A half a dozen more strokes and he emptied into her, pulling her name from his lips as he jerked his hips with breathless groans that readily left his hips.
He leaned over her, breathing heavily in time with her.
"Bastard, without a condom." She whimpered as he pulled from her raw body, new bruises blooming along her skin. She rubbed her arms and pulled herself up. She leaned against the couch and breathed heavily, her breasts jumping in time with her pulse. "Lucky it's my safe day, if I calculated right."
"You're too coherent." He smirked and ran a knuckle down her side, she collapsed against him.
"Bastard, still. I hate you." She pouted and slapped the side of his face.
"Hate you too." His kissed the crown of her head. He pulled himself up, strutting into the bedroom to gather some clothes to replaced the ones that were somewhere in a corner. He threw her a large shirt and pants as well.
She dressed quickly before collapsing on the couch, a look of concentration crossed her eyes before she lifted the shirt to reveal the seal.
"It's still there."
"It'll remain until I take it off." He sighed heavily, wishing to escape this conversation and just fuck her to oblivion again.
"Next time."
"What?" He faced her.
"Use a condom." Her lips brushed his as she rushed past him, winking before disappearing into his bedroom.
"Ohh… wanna play that game now do we, my little pet." He stalked her, following her heartbeat. He licked his lips in anticipation.
Moving too fast for yah yet? HMMM? Give me a fucking review, right now. Good. Very good. I will no longer have Gajeel rip your head off. Thanks to those who review without having to be threatened! I LOVE YOU ALL!
O_x