Page 46 of Pure Killers

I don't ask him to elaborate on that, but the urge to glance back over my shoulder would almost be too much if his hand didn't tangle in my hair, tilting my chin up and keeping my gaze forward. What would I see if I looked back? A stranger? Worse, someone I know? Who would Iwantto see?

More thought on that slides away as his boots nudge my feet apart enough to stand between them. Bracing my hands on the table, I feel him, that slight rubbery feeling of a condom over hardness brushing the inside of one thigh,. Then he directs himself, rubbing against my opening, finding wetness.

Then, without preamble, he's pushing, sliding inside. The position means he presses in new places, his grip on my hair making it even more intense as he goes deep in small thrusts, and by the time he's buried, my nails are digging into the wood, my mouth fallen open as I cry out, gasping between. There’s no one to worry about staying quiet for this time, and as his first full thrusts fill me with such extreme pleasure, I gasp aloud,unable to do anything else but sway with him, bearing it. When that exquisiteness fades just enough, I bump back consciously against him, squeezing.

"Fuck, how do you feel so good, Little Shadow?" To my ire, he stops moving, holding inside me. "Touch yourself."

I do as he says, hand sliding down between my thighs, rubbing, and only then he starts to move again. Biting my lip, I keep going even as my knees shake, urgency building.

"Don't stop until you've come," he orders.

That doesn't take long, his slow, measured movements and my fast, needy touch combine to make my head hang down as he loosens his grip on my hair, holding me with a grasp on my hip to stop me totally melting as my climax takes hold. I cry out, almost to scream in the throes of it, pressing back spasmodically, gasping through the rough thrusts of him joining me there.

For a time he pulls me back against him, holding tight enough that the breath moving in his chest is clear against my back. Then I feel him leave me, falling from me, the warmth of his embrace, gone. When I find the light switch, the mask is gone, and the owner has gone with it.

***

"Wait, this… masquerade thing… it’s on the same night that we expect Needler to strike next?" I shake my head. "How did we not know this before?"

Dirk looks tired today, his dark hair dishevelled, with bags under his eyes as he sits at the desk and tries to explain it again. "The Tregam Diversion, they call it. Happens every year, and it’s not our division, but usually the cops end up being called out there. Most of the less savoury characters of the city go."

"Your friends, then?"

He gives me a look, then goes on. "They changed the date. And made it masquerade. They're not saying because of Needler, but…"

I sigh. "It’s because of Needler."

Dirk shrugs. "Given his popularity, we can assume so."

"Right." I tap my pen. "So we have to go."

Dirk, somehow, looks even more tired. "I was afraid you'd say that."

***

Tawill is in a good mood, unlike either me or Dirk, as she comes into unclaimed evidence. I slap at the antiquated skirts of the gown, the corset pinching at my waist. For what it’s worth, it fits. "Are you sure these are from last year and not, I don't know, two centuries ago?"

"From the very last Tregam Diversion. Luckily the theme was pirates- close enough to masquerade," Tawill assures me, a slight tilt on her lips as she smirks at me. "Don't forget the shoes."

Dirk, who is changing behind a shelf towards the back of the locker, shouts, "Not joining us, boss?"

I wince a little. Tawill, however, won't be dampened right now. "No, Dean and Howie will be there in…plainclothes, too. You'll fit in this way. It’s the perfect opportunity to get close to Needler. We think he'll be there. Besides, when else do you all get to dress up?"

I turn at the sound of footsteps, Dirk, still tugging at the suspender belts. I grin and then remember that I'm equally ridiculously attired. “Wow, that’s how you look in a dress,” he says with a smile.

"And that’s how you look in hose."

He frowns, looking down at himself. "Which part is that?"

I sigh. "Well, I'm hardly going to be chasing anyone down on this." I fluff up the heavy skirts again. They're peach-coloured.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, detectives. Now, try not to act or look like yourselves."

I toy with my mask, a basic glittery thing. My hair is down, which really should be enough to disguise me from my regular look anyway, I catch Dirk’s eye since he’s still looking at my dress. “What?” I ask, expecting him to tease me, but when he looks up to my face, he only shakes his head.

“Nothing. It suits you.”

I don’t believe him for a minute. “You’re making fun.”

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