Page 5 of Die With Me

Her breathing picks up, her body shifting to press her clit against my pubic bone for friction, but I angle my hips in a way where I fuck her deeper, and she gets nothing more than the rock-hard length of my dick. That’s it.

Jackhammering my hips and relishing in her squeals, I come hard and continue biting her through it, spilling hot, thick ropes of cum along her slick walls before pulling out to empty the rest onto her body. I paint her pussy, her stomach, and her tits before finishing on her face.

And she doesn’t come at all.

She’s a goddamn masterpiece when I’m finally spent. Covered in blood and cum, and dripping with so much ire that she’s probably imagining me burning to ashes right now.

I release her wrists and grab the knife before moving off the booth to gather my clothes.

Misty is more than likely in the height of her drugged state. Heavy with a semi-state of sedation and unable to come after me.

“Pretty sure this evens the score, piccola demone.”

The only answer I get is silence as I dress and leave her, much like she left me when she began our game.

Misty

Before him, I was an innocent, sweet little girl who wanted to make her brother proud by becoming a doctor.

After him, I became the demon he’s so aptly named me. Once he took my brother away and destroyed any chance I had at a future.

“You still don’t know me, do you?” I arch my back, whispering into his ear as I lay my head back on his shoulder and grind against his hard cock.

Tonight, we have a non-verbal truce. I’m still healing from our last game, and neither of us wishes to end things just yet, so we agreed to meet somewhere we can’t hide. Somewhere we can still have fun, just without our knives.

The strip club is neutral and high-end and enforces a strict dress code. A plush red velvet ropesecures our area from the outside riff-raff yet puts us on display for whoever wishes to observe.

To everyone here, we’re just a couple of fucked up individuals who like to be watched.

Luca’s left hand cradles his crystal tumbler of whiskey as it rests on the arm of the crushed velvet armchair we’re sitting in. His right hand winds around my waist, curling to pull me closer before dipping lower to find the slit in my see-through dress.

His fingers swipe between my pussy lips, lazily playing with my clit as he widens his legs and pushes his hips up into my ass. I can feel the outline of his length as he rubs it against me, every nerve ending firing off with warm sparks. “I’ve thought long and hard about where we might have met before. I’d like to think I could never forget those eyes.”

“Yet, you did,” I state flatly. Pushing off him, I stand. He lets me go, eyes dragging down my body as I turn to look at him. His gaze makes me feel so alive, even when I know it’s the last thing I’ll see before death.

I take his tumbler, the large round ice cube clinking against the glass as I raise it to my lips and swallow the remaining amber liquid, welcoming the smoky trail that burns as it slides down my throat.

Holding Luca’s stare, I walk to the edge of therope, handing the glass to our personal attendant, who is six feet of solid, oiled muscle and all too eager to please. “Fetch us a refill,” I command.

This persona is so far from the woman I used to be. Sometimes, it’s jarring how rude, how vile, howdemonicI’ve become—the perfect little demon for her perfect big, bad monster.

“Perhaps when I return,” the waiter takes the glass in one hand then lifts my knuckles to his lips, “you’d like an extra mouth on this gorgeous body.”

“Perhaps you’d like your tongue cut from your inappropriate mouth.” Luca’s words charge the air with warning.

“Oh, but this is the poor man’s job—to ensure we’re completely taken care of. If he’s asking if I need an extra mouth, it must be because I don’t look satisfied,” I tease seductively, turning to wink at the man who pays Luca no mind.

Bad decision, my darling. Il mio mostro is not a creature to ignore.

As the man walks away, Luca crooks a finger in my direction as he stands. “Sit.”

I approach him, taking my time as every slow sway of my hips grinds on his nerves. When we are chest to chest, I tilt my head back to look at him but don’t take his place on the chair. His jaw tics, nostrils flaring as my lace-covered nipples brush against his bare chest where his shirt is unbuttoned.

Luca has always been able to turn me on with a simple glance. The first time I laid eyes on him, I fell in love. Back when I was a stupid, naïve girl.

Now, I wonder how different things might have been if he’d just paid me a sliver of the attention I have now.

Our chests heave. Control is a tangible thing between us that we both have hold of—like a stick of dynamite that burns at both ends, yet neither of us relinquishes even though we’ll both be caught in the blast.

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