Once Upon A Killing (A Gass County Novel Book 2) (10 page)

“For each lick I give you, the more wet you become. Each tickle of my tongue brings a moan out in the still air. Each suckle of your clit brings silence to this space. The most amazing of silences. The one empty spot of your time that I possess, when the pleasure I’m giving is too much for you to take, and you’re willing your body to go on, but deep inside you scream for release.”

Every word he expressed, her body created. His mouth was the most marvelous of mouths. There had not been any mouths like his, not even… Will’s.

“Then the jerk, and the locking of your thighs around my head. It’s not until then I will let go of your hands. It’s not until then I will unchain my mouth from your clit. It’s not until the silence evolves into motion that I will release my face from your warmth, find your eyes, and see them glazed above those pink cheeks of yours. And when the pillow engulfs your head and the air escaping your mouth can’t relinquish words, then, and only then will I know I’ve done my job to perfection.”

She tried to fight it, that tingling feeling creeping slowly, oh so slowly, up her spine. That burning, prickling sensation, which she knew would explode as soon as it reached her head. The silence came, the clock on the wall tick-tocked, the sound of his tongue in her wetness the only noticeable noise in the room. The more he licked, the tighter her body clenched, not only around his head, but inside itself, until she noticed she was breathing again. The residue of a scream lingered in the air, and she reckoned, it must have been hers.

She looked down then, watching her chest heave in euphoric sensation, and Wayne’s eyes looked into hers, just before he flipped her over and ran his hands up the length of her back.

Chapter Eleven

And he fucked her. Oh God, did he fuck her. Slow and deep at first, pushing his sweaty clenched fists into the slowly moistening sheets beneath them, burying his face hard at the back of her head, a moan, the lowest of baritones released into her damp streaks of messy hair.

Steady deep thrusts fueled her wonderfully warm wetness, his flickering eyelids opening enough to witness her fingers clamor for something to seize in sheer pleasure, but coming up empty-handed, until he lowered his entire heavy, hard body onto hers, grasping those trembling, searching hands in his, and with interlocking fingers pushing them tightly down into the mattress. Holding her there, guiding her, giving her his all.

Lord have mercy, he fucked like a god. A warm steamed up hard engine, pistons charging, pulling out and pushing in, making it almost impossible to shelter gasp after even louder gasp into the bed beneath them.

This. This was it. When people said they’d found heaven.

“Wait,” her breathe barely carried a whisper. “You?”
He slowed suddenly, stayed inside her, and placed his face at the back of her neck, panting heavily into her wet strands of hair. “What?”

“I want to please you, too,” her breath just as upbeat as his.

“Oh, fuck you are. Right now. Please let me continue, this is too good to end. God, you’re so wet. And warm.”

“If you slide out of me I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You must be kidding? You mean there is something else better than this? Better than what we’re doing now? God, just let me stay inside you.” The rough stubble covering his face slid smoothly in the drops of sweat across her back, and released shiver after shiver of euphoria through every cell, every vein, and every inch of skin of her body.

“Just…” Instantly he shoved himself hard into her once more, making the mattress of the bed move from its axis and skated hard against the sturdy nightstand decorated with a tall lamp, its white shade rattling.

“Not better,” she panted, hitching her behind up against his groin, grinding herself into him. “Just different, but as good.”

“It’s hard to break this.” His hips pushed violently into her once more, then twice, and amongst the loud grunts leaving her mouth, the rustle of a tumbling lamp shade scraped against the nightstand before tumbling over the corner, falling lifeless onto the floor. “Like you said,” he panted, “you feel so good around my cock.”

“Well, thank you. Now, slide out of me and let me suck you.”

The slow rotation of warm hips against her skin halted, and for a second his mind seemed to consider what she’d just said. With heady breath heavily panting into the open air, his bottom leaned back on his heels, his cock stayed inside her. Barely.

“You mean,” he questioned, “even after I’ve been inside you, you’d have me in your mouth?”

“Of course.”

“Huh.”

Slowly she let his cock slide out then turned ever so slightly to find his heated gaze.

“Is this surprising to you?” She smiled softly.

His wide shoulder shrugged at her question. “No one has ever done it before, that’s all. It’s usually, you know, foreplay stuff: kissing first, then oral sex, and last - fucking.”
“Oh, well, then you’ll be surprised. You see, I don’t follow those rules. In fact, in the bedroom rules are made for breaking, and I’ve never liked to play nice.”

She noticed how his eyes followed the movement of her lips while the words spilled out of her mouth, and she found it impossible not to smile at his reaction. “Now, there seem to be too much talking and too little doing. I would love to watch you place your hand on your cock and rub yourself. Stay hard and let me be right back.”

The sizeable thickness of the mattress compressed as her hands pushed against it allowing her to slide her legs out from underneath his and naked feet quickly paddled across the carpet over to the three drawer dresser tucked into the corner underneath bizarre paintings similar to Dali’s. “Which one would you prefer: cheer stockings, or a black satin belt?” She peered over her shoulder at him, sitting stranded on the bed, one hand steady on his thigh, the other moving deliciously slow over his erection. The way only a man knowing his own body would.

“Left one. And hurry.” With a jerk he pointed at the black satin swaying in her hand.

She smiled at how much she loved the power of telling him what to do. If this was a profession, she would be excellent at it.
Oh, wait, maybe it already was.
But she wasn’t going to go there
.

Instead she pulled open the left drawer and found something else she was looking for, and grabbed them.

As she turned, she eyed the chair standing tall and brown with its Victorian design next to the bathroom door, placed the pile of dirty clothes piled high on its seat right on the floor, and moved it swiftly to the middle of the room.

“Hey, big boy,” she smiled, and moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Come over here,” she teased, crooking her finger in his direction and let her hand push lightly into the dark blue fabric of the pillow embellishing the seat of the chair.

His sultry smile made everything in its way burst into catalyst fire, then answered her, “Yes ma’am.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders and without uttering a word urged him to sit down on the chair. There was nothing more intimate than seeing a man completely naked, she thought, not just his cock. But a man, barefoot, made something tingle inside her. Or eyeing the space below the waist, yet not as far down as his very standing erection, delicious skin always in hiding.

“Close your eyes. Hands behind the back of the chair, now,” her mouth spoke close to his face while her hand held his chin steady, making him stare into her eyes.

“You’re not going to kill me, are you? They’ll look for me in the morning if I don’t show up for work,” his voice suddenly somber.

“If I wanted to kill you, Wayne, I would have done it already. Try to be quiet and enjoy.” She tightened the satin belt around his eyes, the belt from his jeans fit just around his wrists on the back of the chair.

“Now, this may stop the blood flow…which might not be the best. My occupation makes me know these things. You need to loosen it up a bit.”

“Wayne,” she whispered close to his ear, making sure her warm breath tickled his skin, “please stop talking. I know what I’m doing, and if you start to feel faint I’ll loosen them up. I’m not going to let you die, we’re going to have some fun… just do what I’m telling you to do. Can you do that? Follow directions?” Her mouth couldn’t resist him any longer and she suckled on the bottom of his ear lobe, until a slight groan was heard in the room.

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathed heatedly. “I’ll try.”

“Good boy,” she whispered into his ear before straightening herself up.

“Just don’t hurt my nipples,” he continued. “I’m quite attached to them, and I like them licked.”

“Duly noted, and I second you on that, Wayne. Now shush and hold your hands behind your back – it’s playtime.

She stepped away from him, admiring the scene that made her blood pump a little bit faster. His body made the usually ample chair minuscule in comparison. His arms stretched behind him making the rapid breathing of his chest noticeable. And when her fingers ran slowly down the front of his body, dark hair dusting his skin tickling her palm and his erection twitched between his thighs, making her smile.

She widened his legs with the help of hers, kneeling between them until her hand had traced his torso and wrapped his heated cock in her hand, causing a gasp above her head. And just before she placed him inside of her mouth she said, “You’re my favorite shade of dirty, and
I want your mind so filthy it has to be scrubbed with bleach tomorrow. Understood?”
And then she engulfed him, head and all.

Chapter Twelve

With Sunday morning came quietness. No alarm set, no job to get up to. At least not for her. Instead she rolled herself over to rest on her back, eyeing the sleeping beauty lying motionless and snug to her side, with an arm splayed across his forehead concealing his tussled hair.

Gosh, was he beautiful. Modelesque, in fact. Partly opened lips bringing life into an otherwise still body, dark lashes fanning his cheeks like the wings of a Swallowtail, a face dusted in light brown stubble growing in a maze pattern when studied up-close. Which she’d done for the last ten minutes.

“Good morning.” As her breath left her lips she regretted it. He looked so peaceful she wished she could take back her words and admire him in secret for a little longer. Being only hers.

“Mornin’.” The day had yet to arrive in his voice, and somehow it made him sound even more magnificent to her ears. She got to hear the real Wayne, the one only few women were privileged to meet when given a chance to wake up next to him, and not ditched in the middle of the night after a round of hot sex. And now she knew - sex with Wayne made ‘hot’ an understatement.

His arm left the skin of his face, leaving the trace of a crimson mark in its place, reached around her naked body and pulled her against him until her soft bosom pressed hard against his sparsely hairy chest, tickling her nipples as it touched.

“I love waking up with a naked lady. Especially this naked lady.” Eyes still shut his large hand wandered the length of her back and grabbed onto her rounded ass, running the tip of his fingers between her cheeks. “I’ve got more condoms, lets ‘fuck’ us a good morning.” Then his fingers found her pussy, and her body went into utter bliss.

“Remember last night,” he mumbled into the skin of her cheek holding her head back twining his fingers in her hair, “when you said you didn’t want to dismiss the chance of walking today, how’s that going?” His fingers slid ever so slowly in and out of her.

“I’m a bit sore, thanks for asking.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders and her face tried to find the nook of his neck, but was held back by the fist that had settled in her long hair. A gasp escaped her lips as another finger joined inside her.

“I want to use not only these fingers on you, in you, I want to help you fuck yourself.”

“Ha,” she released a slight giggle, and her open mouth caressed the skin underneath his ear. “I love a man with a dirty mind.”

"So,” he moaned into her hair and her teeth found his earlobe. “You… oh, fuck… you should get that dildo you mentioned last night, the blue one you said looked like an avatar cock, sit backwards on that chair over there,” he nodded at the seat which had tumbled over during their playtime, “clamp your arms around its back, like what you’re doing is almost too much, and wildly ride it while I fuck your ass. All the way in. You know, balls slapping your ass cheeks deep inside you. Fucking you hard.”

Her breathing escalated, and her bed sheets would definitely need to be changed. Again.

“Should we say Saturday? I know I'm off then," he mumbled before he ran his wet fingers along her slit.

Not to make a night between them sound too much like making a hair appointment, he rolled himself on top of her softness, draping her body with his weight.

His hands dug into the mattress beneath them, grabbed her hard and pulled her against his chest, breathing in her ‘soon-to-be-fucked-and-dazed’ scent from chocolate strands of rumpled hair. “I need this ass to be mine,” he growled in her ear. “I need to
own
this ass. I don’t want this ass locking itself around anything else but
my
cock. My. Cock. Do you hear me? This. Ass. Is. Mine.”