Page 51 of Rugger: The Huntress

My body imploded, trying to fuse with the linen of my bed.

“Fuck.Fuck. Mmm.”

Instead of shutting it off as I’d intended, I increased the intensity. Removing the device from my pussy felt impossible. My spine had already weakened and my toes had already curled to the point of pain. My orgasm had arrived and it hit me like a full-sizedBerettaM9A4to the chest.

I didn’t have time to prepare for the overstimulating, overwhelming eruption. It consumed my center and made every inch of my body tingle. My ass bounced off the bed, gyrating midair as I rode the wave. Still, I was unable to remove the menace from my sensitive bulb.

The blaring tone of my cellphone caused my body to fall flat onto the bed. Shame coated me completely. Finally, with shaky hands, I disabled the rose. Heavy breathing followed the unexpected journey I was still struggling to comprehend.

“Yes,” I breathed into the phone.

The dryness of my throat was repulsive. I sounded like I’d just run a marathon and I hadn’t even walked a mile today.

“It’s time to party,” Rather stated calmly and ended the call.

We wouldn’t be partying, but we’d damn sure be having a good time. When the call ended, a text came through almost instantly. It was Rather.

Wash your hands before you come.

A chuckle slipped from my mouth as I began to respond.

Fuck you.

Hope you feel better, now. Time to get to work.

“Ugh,” I groaned, still reeling from the orgasm I’d experienced.

I do. Mentally, I responded to Rather’s text.

I dragged myself out of bed and to the closet where I grabbed a pair of black pants and a black top. I decided on the blackGivenchy boots as my shoe for the late night meeting. Once my clothes were settled, I turned on the shower.

Two minutes.

That was all I needed and all my body could withstand. Autumn in Clarke was treacherous near the end. Bathing just before stepping out was nearly suicidal. But, I appreciated life on the edge. In my opinion, it was the only way to live.

As requested, I approached Rather’s office with clean hands, a thoroughly cleaned pistol, and an itchy trigger finger.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Clack.

My heels crashed into the concrete with each step I made. Muffled squeals led me to the room of the main event. A smile stretched my lips across my face. Gone was the girl in the silk dresses and scarves who didn’t look like she’d ever lifted a finger to do anything but beckon for her maid.

Now, that’s my Rather.

Black covered her, head to toe. Her hair no longer flowed down her back. It was in a high ponytail that almost resembled mine. Instead, her long tresses were twisted neatly into a perfect bun.

She hovered over the gagged and bound body planted in the seat. With a pair of pliers, she peeled off the tenth and final nail. Blood-curdling screams brought us both a sense of pleasure.

Taking a step back, Rather marveled at her work. She was proud. The twinkle in her eye wasn’t to be mistaken for anything other than pride. She folded her arms across her chest with a nod.

“How nice of you to join us,” she welcomed me.

Her eyes left her victim for a mere second before they dismissed me.

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