Page 48 of The Hand that Frays

“Didn’t think I’d fuck you so easy, did you?”

He never does.

And I’m fucking addicted to it.

He circles my clit, working me back up to a point I know is going to make me crazed. When he put me in this position and exposed my cunt to the room, I worried about the ramifications. If someone found us, the gig would be up, so to speak. The famed Butcher and his wife would be jailed. Not for murder.

For fucking at the cinema.

Now, however, I could give a fuck less.

I’ll take my blade from my boot, lock the doors, and slaughter every soul in this fucking theatre before straddling his shoulders and letting his tongue dance across my pussy.

I’m desperate to come.

Desperate for him.

I grind over his hand when he finally lets me have a trickle of air.

I try my damnedest to keep it quiet, lest I be without it again.

He covers my mouth with his hand, reaching between us and pressing me into his front even harder as he frees his cock.

The logistics of this situation seem tricky, but I don’t care what I have to do.

I need him inside me.

Now.

“Put me inside you, stupid girl,” he whispers, nipping my ear.

My breathing behind his hand is ragged, and my bodyis throbbing so much that I can barely think past the need for him.

Reaching down, I sheathe him inside my pussy, arching forward with my back to tip him inside.

My breathing all but stops.

He feels so fucking good.

After as high as he took me, this is what I needed.

“Now, I want you to ride my cock and make yourself come. If you make one fucking noise, you won’t come for a week.”

I choke off a worried sob in my throat, controlling something I’ve never had before.

My pleasure at the hands of Neo.

“You understand me?” he asks as I desperately move, arching my back and digging into the seat on either side of his thighs with my feet to slide him in and out of my body.

There’s a storm brewing, which seems only to be gaining more power by the second.

I nod beneath his hand.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he whispers, clamping his hand around my mouth tighter, knowing his words will make me respond in an untamed manner.

The sounds of motorcycles on the screen drown out the wet, sloppy sounds of my center gliding over his dick, and I hate it.

“I planned to fuck you here as soon as I saw the theatre online. It’s all I could think about all day long. This tight cunt gripping my dick as if to kill it. Fuck, Lyla,” he moans against my ear as I grab either side of the chair and use it as leverage to ride him better, harder.

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