Page 52 of Sinners Retreat

“And how did this translate to drowning?”

“The house was older, and the drains were shit. As the water slowly rose, it was a race against getting off or accidentally unaliving myself. Thus, a kink was born.”

“And what am I supposed to do while I’m...um, while I’m drowning you?”

He’s really struggling with this, but at least he isn’t laughing me off or telling me no.

“You just have to fuck me,” I say. “Fuck me and hold me under.”

He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “I always said I’d try anything once, but maybe not this.”

“Don’t you trust yourself to let me up for air? I trust you.” The moment it comes out, I know it’s true. I trust him. And I might die because of it.

He pulls me into him and kisses the top of my head. “Let’s run a bath.”

Ezra’s cock goes flaccid as he walks me toward the bathroom. The wall-to-wall tubs in these villas are massive, leaving plenty of room for both of us. We draw a hot bath, and I climb inside.

Ezra gets in behind me and pulls me against him as he kneels to grab the shampoo. He washes my hair, his fingers lacing through the wet strands. He’s hard again, and I’m glad to feel that stiffness against my spine.

Next, he washes my body, cleaning every curve with dedication and admiration. Little compliments slip from his lips.

“God, you’re so perfect.”

“Your skin is so soft.”

I mentally preen under his attention as I anticipate what’s to come.

I sit up on my knees and let his hands drop between my legs. With his cock rubbing against my ass, I bend over for him, and he pushes inside me. I grab both sides of the tub as my nipples sink beneath the waterline. I’m so close to the surface that my heavy exhale ripples the water. Excitement creeps up my spine.

“Drown me,” I say.

His hand moves up my back and stops at the back of my head. A killer never hesitates, yet he can’t bring himself to do it. But Ineedthis.

“Don’t think about it like drowning me,” I say. “Instead of drowning, think of it as holding me underwater.”

“So . . . drowning you.”

Frustrated, I try to sit up, but he thrusts into me and holds me in place.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it, and I’m not done fucking you yet.” He wraps my hair around his hand. “We can’t use a safe word, but we at least need a safe gesture. Something you can do to let me know you need air if I hold you down for too long.”

“We don’t need?—”

“That’s my rule. You want to be held underwater while I rail your pretty pussy, and I want a safe gesture. If you need me to pull you up, hold up a fist. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Tell me you understand.”

“I understand. I’ll raise a fist if I need you to back off.”

“Good girl.”

“Are you going to keep your glasses on?”

“Do you want a blind man to watch for your life saving hand gesture, or...?”

He stops thrusting, leans forward, and pushes my face beneath the water. A dark emptiness surrounds me, and the world goes silent. The oxygen in my lungs begins to dissipate. Depleting. Depleting. But he’s not fucking me. He’s literally just drowning me without doing the other steps.

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