Page 54 of The Hand that Frays

She moans in answer, and I know she’s still with me.

Ready to taste my spunk on her hungry tongue.

“Oh fuck, Lyla!” My body bows forward, knees bending as I come in long thrums in her mouth.

She swallows each one, fighting for air.

“Good fucking girl,” I tell her, placing my blade beneath her chin and tipping her face up to me as I straighten, cock still hard and ready to sink into her murderous little body.

Tears streak down her face, and there’s spit glistening on her chin as she breathes heavily, looking up at me from below like I’m her god and she’s here to worship at my altar.

“Fuck, you cry so pretty for me.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

LYLA

Neo lifts me with the tip of his blade sunken into the crook of my throat, and an unwell part of me wants to purr.

Our job here is finished. The two problematic members of the Hatt family are dead, and it’s time to move on.

Not before immersing in one another, however.

It’s what we love about killing.

The way we fuck the racing pins and needles caused by murder out of our systems.

Once I’m standing, I wonder where he’ll lead me.

Will he fuck me over the desk, splayed out over Carl’s fingers? Or will he have me sit on Ada’s lap where she’s still bound and bleeding in the chair with her throat slit?

Instead, he turns me around.

My brain wars with confusion as he leads me down the hall and up the stairs.

“Open the door,” he tells me, and his tone leaves little room forargument.

I do so, finding what’s beyond it deranged, even for us.

“What the fuck?” I whisper, forgetting his knife at my neck as I look around the room.

It’s as if time stood still in this room, the decor never evolving as the child who slept within aged.

“Ada’s room. I thought you’d like it.”

It’s pink everywhere the eye can see. The bed has flowers on its print, and the edges are frilled with lace.

“Why would I like it?”

“Well, you will,” he says.

“Why?” As he’s taunting me, my center has begun to throb in time with my racing pulse. I press my thighs together to wane the weighty tension between them.

His lips skim my ear as he leans forward. He hovers there momentarily, a buzzing in my body that causing wetness to gather at my core and seep into my panties.

“Because I’m going to fuck you here. This room is the very picture of Ada’s delusion. She remained his little girl, feeding off the sick thought of who she was to him as he sunk into her body. Who am I to you, stupid girl?”

“My husband,” I whisper, turning my face into the sensation of his presence.

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