Page 33 of Falling for a Killer

Reaching around her, I slide my hand along her stomach with a smile on my face, knowing it's full of my cum. I press on it just until I feel the outline of the head of my cock, then hold there as she gasps.

Her whole body is trembling for me. “Who the hell are you?” she whispers, and all I can do is chuckle.

She was right though, when she told me sex would complicate things. She was right to be nervous. Because what started as casual and just to relieve a little tension has turned into an obsession I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to turn off.

“I’m Killian Rhys Blake from Blackridge, Idaho. I was born 33 years ago on May 4th, but if you ask my dick, we’ve never felt more alive. Who the hell are you?”

I kiss her shoulder three times before standing to begin untying her. She doesn’t answer me until she’s sitting up, letting me rub the tension from her wrists. “I’m Josephine Moran, no middle name. Born 30 years ago on October 3rd in San Francisco, California, and I think I’m just now figuring out what being alive really means.”

Thank fuck I’m not alone. Maybe she doesn’t think she can love, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t just as obsessed with me as I am with her. I’ll take it.

Grinning, I lean in and kiss her deeply, loving the way she melts into it instead of shying away. Hell, maybe she wasn’t lyingabout letting me use her whenever I want. All I know is that until she safewords out, I’m not gonna stop.

After a few minutes I manage to pull my lips from hers, my forehead pressed to hers as we catch our breath. “Let me take care of you now.”

“Now?” she repeats, cupping my face with both hands to keep me close. “What have you been doing this whole time?”

“Learning what you need. Have I been doing alright?”

“I suppose.” There’s fear in her eyes as she nods. Not the visceral afraid-for-her-life kind of fear, but the quiet kind. The kind that suggests maybe she was wrong about some things, too. Maybe she can love, and maybe she’s terrified that I’m proving it to her. “So what do I need, Killian Rhys Blake? What have you learned about me?”

“You aren’t afraid to say what you want or need. You want orgasms without expectations, yet you struggle not to reciprocate. You know exactly how beautiful you are, yet blush when you’re complimented. You’re a strong, independent woman that wants a man to fold her like a fucking lawn chair and take away all the heaviness of the world. And after he’s done you need him —me— to show you a tenderness we don’t have to discuss. You need me to wash your body, comb your hair, and slide my hands along your skin until you fall asleep in my arms. And I’m about to do all of that.”

Her eyelids flutter, fading into a surprised blink. “I struggle not to reciprocate because there’s something irresistible about a hard cock when it’s attached to a man who actually sees me. I get more pleasure from pleasing a guy like that than I do a hundred orgasms from a guy who doesn’t.”

“Sounds like both of us want the other to feel good as much as possible. How will we ever survive it, hmm?”

I pick her up and carry her over to the bathroom, my thumb slipping inside of her pussy so I can feel my cum in there, and possession twists in my gut.

No one’s ever taken it like her. Begged for it like her. Wanted more like her. And the way she dances kisses across my neck?

Yeah, I’m fucking done for. There’s no question as to whether or not she’s going to make me fall for her.

I just have to make sure I don’t fall alone.

Sixteen:

Gus

I’m not falling for him. I’m not. But something about the way he fucked me over the hood of my car, wouldn’t let me come, then put me on my knees to swallow his load, helped me up, wiped my bottom lip, and whispered, “Alright, we can go now” definitely madesomethingflutter.

I could barely concentrate as we shopped, and the drive home involved a lot of thigh clenching and teeth gritting.

Gods, he makes me violently horny.

But I’m also being punished for coming last night when he was trying to edge me. I refused to apologize for it, and then might’ve gotten a little bit of an attitude this morning. I’m not a morning person. He knows this. God and the devil know this. And what was I supposed to do? We were out of coffee.

So here we are. A full day where I’m not allowed to come and he can still do whatever he likes to me.

I’d probably be even grumpier if I didn’t love it so much.

It,not him, let’s get that straight.

When he parks the car in the drive, I don’t move. I sit there with crossed arms and a pouty lip, still tasting him on my tongue.

Killian sits back in his seat to watch me, reaching out to flick my bottom lip with an amused expression. “You’re pouting, Roo.”

“I’ve had zero caffeine and less orgasms today. It’s raining, I think I’m about to start my period, and you laughed at me for wanting to buy a stuffed skunk. I’m not having a good day, I can pout if I want to.”

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