She gives him a nod, and he flicks the lighter. She smirks with a sort of self satisfied pleasure as she fills her lungs with the dizzying smoke. But he snatches the joint away before she can take another hit, and drags some in himself. But that's nothing. They're just trying to come down from the powder he'd offered. The room stinks of booze and smoke. There's a pile of instruments in the corner. Guitars, basses, a disassembled drum kit.

The walls hadn't always been black, but they were now. With grime and ash. Against one wall, a mattress. It's grey sheets in disarray. He'd slept there that night, rather than at home. His dad had hit him again, and he'd hit back. She had came over when he'd phoned from the booth just outside the tiny rehearsal space the next morning. They'd converted the loft into a makeshift getaway bedroom for whoever needed it, whenever they needed it. Right now they were just using it to blot out the pain. She ignored his bruises, and he ignored hers. It was common place, nothing to worry about. As long as they had a healthy supply of intoxicants.

His eyes graze over her. All in black, as usual. Her hair is a mess, and her eye makeup running. He guesses that that bastard had made her cry again. But he doesn't ask. The dark contrasts strangely with her ivory skin, and those piercing eyes that watch him watch her. Legs wrapped in torn fishnet thigh-highs and those clunky boots, leading up to that leather mini that showed off just how perky her arse was. He always looked. He always liked. Then a tattered black tank-top finished off the mostly depressing, sexy look. He doesn't say anything. He's never seen anything more desirable. He's never seen anything so fucking sad.

Yes. He's fucking perfect. The dirty, messy, dyed hair that can't choose a length. The grimy white shirt with it's sleeves torn from it's torso, just to show off his arms, she knew. And those tight fucking pants. They couldn't be comfortable. Who gives a shit, though, as long as she got to admire what he was keeping in them. It was a sudden question, that surprised even her. But, she'd taken a lot, who knew what she'd come out with?

"Want to fuck?" It was a simple question, it required a simple answer. And she knew he wouldn't hold back. Wouldn't be gentle. Good. Perfect.

He tosses the blunt to his feet, and stamps it into the floor with the heel of his boot. Yes, he wants to. She can see. The brand new, intimidating glint in his eyes screams it at her. They stand up, both of them. There's the beat of something so primal thrumming through them.

Welcome to the jungle, we got fun 'n' games
We got everything you want, honey we know the names

It's sudden, she finds herself slammed against one filthy wall, their lips smashed together, tongues battling for dominance. He wins, as his teeth clamp down on her bottom lip and a warmth begins spreading over her body. Fuck, she needs this. Yes, she does.

We are the people that you find, whatever you may need
If you got the money, honey we got your disease

His hands scramble with her shirt, tearing it more so as he pulls it up and over her head. She didn't bother with a bra. He grins at the sight. An evil, twisted grin. Something that would make Lucifer proud. They're kissing again, she's got a hand in his tangled hair, and one on his shoulder. His explore her bare chest and back, she gasps into the kiss when he brushes his thumb over her right nipple.

He smirks to himself. Here it is, the familiar rush, the usual addiction.

In the jungle, welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your kn-kn-knees knees

She sinks to her knees, a smile on her face. Her perfect fucking face. She undoes his belt, then the button. The zipper she pulls down agonizingly slowly. Giving him this smug little smile all the while. She loves how hard she's already made him. Of course, it gets harder when she wraps those red lips around it.

He's sent to heaven when she starts swirling her tongue around the tip. Fuck, he wants this. Fucking hell.

He grabs a handful of her hair, and she finds herself being dragged back up to her feet. Shit, it hurts. He doesn't care. She loves it.

He tosses her down on the mattress, almost absentmindedly as he reaches for his bottle. He takes a swig of the burning substance as he drinks in the sight of her. Her chest is heaving, her eyes narrowed. He wonders if it's in anger. Then he remembers his pants and underwear are around his ankles. He kicks them off, and pulls the shirt off over his head for good measure. His boots and necklaces he can't be bothered to remove.

Her eyes go from narrowed to hooded with some dark lust. He smashes the bottle against the wall, she runs her tongue over her slightly swollen lips. Next thing, he's on top of her, her legs wrapped around his waist, and her skirt pushed up to her waist. His hands find their way downwards, and without warning he's pushed her underwear to one side and shoved his middle finger inside her. She moans, and hisses through her teeth. He hooks his finger, and find that perfect fucking place. Her hands, which rest on his back, press harder. And her nails bury themselves into his skin.

I wanna watch you bleed

He adds his index finger, and she lets out a stream of curses, he presses his thumb onto her clit.

Her nails make deep grooves in his flesh. His back and her hands are wet with sweat and blood. It stings. He loves it.

Welcome to the jungle we take it day by day
If you want it you're gonna bleed but it's the price you pay
And you're a very sexy girl whose very hard to please
You can taste the bright lights but you won't get them forfree

The room is suddenly flooded with light. Red and blue that reflects off the walls. He doesn't bother with pulling her miniscule underwear off. He pulls away from her for a second to scramble with the pocket of the pants he'd abandoned on the floor. Pocket knife.

She squirms for a second, he scares her by pressing the cold blade lightly against her thigh for a second. But he has a job to do.

He cuts her underwear off. They're unrepairable and unwearable when he tosses them aside. He admires what he's revealed for a moment, before leaning in and pressing his lips to the apex of her thigh. She moans again at his teasing. He hitches her legs up, and over his shoulders.

He loves doing this. He loves watching them fall to pieces. He's got his fingers back inside in moments. His tongue flicks over her clit.

Fuck. She can't keep a comprehensible thought in her head. It feels so good. It's so damn hot. She lifts her hips, giving him better access. He keeps at it with expert precision for what doesn't feel like nearly long enough. But she's suddenly on her edge. Not too much longer, and she'll be there.

He feels it's beginnings. He stops. She starts to beg. He tells her to shut up, she'll come when he wants her to.

In the jungle, welcome to the jungle
Feel my, my, my, my serpentine
I, I wanna hear you scream

He's like a fucking snake, the way her slithers back up her, his hips slotting in with hers perfectly. His tongue finding every tender spot, every place where her pulse jumps and races, until it comes to rest at her throat.

Welcome to the jungle it gets worse here everyday
You learn to live like an animal in the jungle where we play
If you got a hunger for what you see, you'll take it eventually
You can have anything you want but you better not take it from me

They're both ready, their eyes lock together for a second, that's all the permission he needs. He pushes forwards. She screams at how suddenly he fills her. He doesn't give her time to adjust before he pulls back, then thrusts forwards again. Fuck. He buries his face in her neck. His teeth leaving their mark on the almost transparent skin there. He draws blood, she only moans and cries with pleasure.

So fucking wet. So fucking tight. He's surprised he's not already done.

But he won't be done until he's heard her scream of completion.

In the jungle, welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your kn-kn-knees, knees
I'm gonna watch you bleed

They build up a rhythm. Each time he thrusts forwards with what, to her, feels like all his strength, she bucks her hips to meet him. Her moans and curses never seem to end. Nor does her insistent begging for her finish. His movements are both punishing and satisfying. They give her a rush of rich pleasure, and a sharp, wicked, delicious pain. Her nails never stop their assault on his back. The pain he feels, he puts into every fantastic push.

And when you're high you never
Ever want to come down
So down, sucked down, so down, yeah

She feels it approaching. And so does he. He pulls his face from her throat to watch the flush rise from her heaving chest to her angelic face. Her angelic face that had given over to the feeling. Her eyes are closed, her red, pouty lips parted, and her back arched.

She's so fucking close. He leans back in, and growls in her ear,

"Come, bitch, come."

It's a rush. She screams. It happens in a euphoria of drugs and pain and blood and pleasure.

Everything fades into the swirling pleasure. She's shaking. Her hips raised. She thrashes and convulses beneath him.

You know where you are, you're in the jungle baby
You're gonna die
In the jungle, welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your kn-kn-knees, knees

He feels her clench around him, and it's only a few more thrusts until he feels his coming.

"Stop, fuck, I can't-" She begs, as wave after wave hits her,

"Ride it out, dammit, ride it out." He hisses, and doesn't stop.

In the jungle welcome to the jungle
Feel my, my, my, my serpentine
Jungle, welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your kn-kn-knees, knees

His hits, and the sudden hard warmth encourages her aftershocks into another full on climax. He pushes into her hard. There's nothing to hold onto but one another. Fucking hell. Nothing but the rich pleasure that threatens to overthrow them both.

Down in the jungle, welcome to the jungle
Watch it bring you to your
It's gonna bring you down, huh

Finally, it stops, and they can breathe. He pulls out slowly. They're both panting. He kneels for a second on the mattress, a second that seems suspended in time, he stares at her. Her face is flushed and her eyes closed. Her hair a mess. Blood running from her neck into her hair line. Disappearing in her tangled, messy hair.

He smiles. She hasn't moved yet. She's still recovering. He gets onto his hands and knees over her, and kisses her gently.

She responds tiredly, her mouth dancing with his in a way that is full of submission. She's his now. All his.

"Let me sleep." She says, when he pulls away. His eyes roll, and he sits her up. Opening a fresh bottle of vodka and holding it to her lips. She glugs it down, splutters a bit, then keeps downing it.

She finishes a third of the fucking bottle before he pulls it away and speaks,

"You mustn't sleep. He'll be expecting you home." But his gut twists with the words, and he imagines knocking on the door in her place, and smashing the bastards face in.

"I don't want to go back." She says, and rolls onto her front, "Please, sleep with me for a little while."

He sighs, and lays down beside her, his arm wraps around her automatically. Protectively.

"Do you ever want to go back..?" He whispers, and she mutters in reply, already half asleep,

"When we wake up... we'll talk then.. when we-..." It fades out. She's dropped off, and he follows suit, his head teeming with violent images of tearing apart the one who causes the bruises she never wanted.

*I'm not sure if I should continue this story, leave me a review and tell me what you think. I'd be interested in developing these characters and their relationship, just need to know if anyone would want to read it. Thanks!*