Page 84 of Killer Kiss

But fuck. What a way to go.

I’d never been with anyone like her. Someone who drove me mad one minute but who I was desperate for in the next. When women touched me or talked in my ear, I generally wanted to turn and run in the opposite direction.

But when Ophelia did it, I just wanted more.

More of her words. Her lips. Her mouth.

Her sweet fucking juices on my tongue. God, I wanted to go down on her so bad it was a physical pain. Licking her off my fingers wasn’t half as good, and when every asshole around me was getting sucked, fucked, or blown, it was hard not to get swept up in the moment.

Her rejections meant nothing when I had my fingers buried in her pussy and her moans in my ear.

Fuck, they just made me want her all the more. “Take your underwear off, Lia. I need you naked.”

Her gaze darted around the club, landing on a darkened corridor. “Not here. Down there.”

I didn’t fucking care where. I just needed it to happen, and I needed it to happen now.

With her nipples and bra still wet from my mouth, her panties coated in her slick arousal, she led me out of the main room, leaving the sights and sounds of a sex party behind us.

But the corridor was no more private, though it was darker. Smaller groups had gathered, some sharing looks through peepholes, their hands around their cocks or buried in their pussies, most likely copying what was going on behind closed doors.

I grinned at Ophelia and raised an eyebrow at her. “This what you brought me down here for? Some peep show action?”

She grinned. “You want to have a look?”

“I want to watch you more.”

I could practically see the way she melted. Her grip tightened around my fingers, and she dragged me deeper down the corridor, stepping around the salacious acts playing out in front of us.

“Where are we going?” I asked her.

She held up a golden key. “Honestly, I’m not exactly sure. But Bliss gave me this, and I assume the number eight engraved on it refers to a room…”

She stopped abruptly in front of a black door with a golden number eight in the center. The gold lock just begged for the little key in Ophelia’s fingers.

She wriggled her eyebrows at me. “No peephole. So it’s not that kind of room. What do you think is on the other side?”

I pulled her in, wrapping my arms around her bare waist, drawing her close so her barely covered tits were pressed against my chest. I dropped my head and put my lips to her mouth, kissing her deep and strong, stroking my tongue with hers, reminding myself what she tasted like.

She kissed me back, moaning into my mouth in that sweet way she had. Fuck, I was glad she was vocal. I loved hearing those little noises. Loved eliciting them from her body in ways I was beginning to not only understand but crave.

“I don’t care what’s on the other side,” I whispered into her ear. “As long as you’re in there with me.”

All I fucking wanted was her.

She cupped my face with both hands, the metal of the key cold on my cheek as she took my mouth again.

The kiss was softer, slower than any we’d shared before.

It stole my breath in a way the others hadn’t.

In a way that scared me so badly, I immediately knew it had to end.

I moved back and took the key from her fingers, leaning around her to fit it to the lock and turn it.

The door opened, and we stepped in, locking it again behind us.

I didn’t want anyone else in here. It was one thing for them to look, for them to stroke themselves while they watched her come around my fingers. But I didn’t want anyone touching her.

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