Page 7 of Sexy Killer

"That sounds like a messy job, Victor. Look at me." Her voice commands me to stare her in the eyes to see the truth. She holds her hands out, turning them one way and then another. "Do you want to dust me for prints?"

"Open the shed, Chelsea."

5

CHELSEA

The work shed is empty.

There's a touch of joy I get in seeing the look of disappointment on Victor's face. It's hard to hold back a giggle as I tell him, "What did you expect to see? Pools of blood and all my favorite knives coated with DNA evidence? I'm going to pretend that you know me better than that."

Victor spins, grabbing me by the throat and slamming me against the wall. My smile is wider than it should be under the circumstances, but this is comfort between us. It's too familiar, too easy for us to fall right back into the way we used to be.

The sound of my pulse thumps inside my ears as the anger in his voice comes out as a low snarl. "What did you do?"

"What I'm good at," I reply with defiant confidence. I move out of his grasp easily because we both know he's not here to hurt me. "I told you I'd help you the best way I can."

"Chopping my suspect into little pieces isn't helping," he argues and steps away from me.

"I have something else that will help you," I tell him with a wink.

Victor follows me from the shed into the house, up the stairs, and into the bedroom that used to be mine. The walls are a soft shade of yellow with a bed that hasn't been slept in. The way he paces impatiently around the room shows his frustration. When I touch his arm gently to stop him, Victor glares at me as if I'm a monster.

"What upsets you more, Vicky? That I carved him up like a Christmas ham or that you weren't there to do it first?" I ask him. "Were you on the scene when I was found?"

"I came after the call came in. My shift was ending, but?—"

I cut him off. "But you know where the call came from, and you came to see if my father was hurt. You didn't know I was there until you showed up. What was the first thought that crossed your mind?"

Victor balls his fists. I can feel the anger surging through him. "That I'd kill whoever did this to you. So yes, I'm mad you got to them first."

"And that shit with the handcuffs at the hospital? That didn't feel like you wanted to do something about the assholes who did this."

"A joke between lovers," he says with a smirk. "A reminder."

"A reminder of what?"

"Of this." Victor pulls me close, quickly capturing my lips with a kiss. His tongue invades my mouth like he's conquered it a thousand times before.

Lust erupts as we tear away at each other's clothes. The instant my tits are free, Victor's mouth slips from mine, moving down my neck to my nipple. His tongue latches on, caressing my breasts with his lips. One hand holds my lower back while the other grips me between the legs, pulling a gasp out of me.

Victor leans away, the corner of his mouth turning up. A brief and tender kiss keeps this aura of burgeoning bliss around us. My fingers reach up to run through his hair, raking my nails across his scalp before pushing him down to his knees.

My right hand yanks his head to the side to hike my left leg over his shoulder. His eyes stare at my pussy for a moment. The prickly hairs of the beard tickle my inner thigh as he captures my sex with as much passion as he kisses my mouth.

The low growl in his throat vibrates against my skin, his hands wrapping under my thighs to pull me closer. Warm breaths flow over my clit with every pass of his tongue between my slits. Soft, firm, exacting as he writes his name against my pussy.

I whimper under the pressure of my orgasm, releasing itself down Victor's chin. He moves swiftly to his feet, which knocks me backward onto the bed. My leg slips from off his shoulder and gives him enough space to wedge between my thighs.

The tip of his hard cock rubs at my slick entrance. Pressure, pain, and pleasure ignite, lighting up every nerve in my body around the thickness of his cock pushing inside of me. Fuck.

My back arches for Victor to stroke me deeper. Every thrust inside of my pussy makes me wetter. The ripples of his muscular chest and abs flex and contract as we move together. Our eyes lock as he finds his rhythm. It's only right that I remind him what happens every time we rehash our passion.

"What are you waiting for, Chelsea? Do it," Victor commands me with a powerful thrust.

I shove his chest back, but he barely moves. The sound of his dark, seductive chuckle sends tremors down my spine. However, the force of my hand coming across his face sends an echo around the room that widens his eyes. As soon as I move to hit him again, Victor snatches my hand before it strikes and pins my wrist down beside my head. My body bucks to fight back, to provoke him into doing what I want.

It doesn't take much prodding before Victor's hand is around my throat, squeezing tighter and tighter while he slides his hardness in and out of me. Each push and pull of his cock inside my walls beckons my orgasm. Each and every thrust reminds me of why I miss him every time I leave, and also a reminder of why I can never stay.

---