Page 23 of Lethal Lover

"D–Daddy's gonna spank his n–naughty girl," I moan. My body is engulfed in flames, every nerve ending ablaze with pleasure. My nervous system seems to be short-circuiting, causing me to twitch and jolt uncontrollably. I cling to him, squeezing his head between my thighs desperately, my hips moving in a rhythmic dance as we become one. The electric current running through my muscles is both intense and euphoric, making me lose control and revel in the moment.

"That's my good girl." His praise comes in the form of a gentle yet powerful touch, his fingers sliding inside me with measured precision. I feel myself being stretched and filled as he continues to tease and taste me, sending shivers of pleasure through every inch of my body. A cry escapes my lips as my back arches off the bed, surrendering to the intense sensations pulsing through me.

"God, oh, fuck! More!" I pant, gasping for air. I can feel my climax building with every slow, deliberate thrust of his fingers. The burn between my legs intensifies, craving more of his touch, needing everything and nothing all at once. When he finally slides his fingers all the way in, I’m a whimpering mess.

"You taste so fucking good," he groans against my pussy before biting down on my clit, sending goosebumps dancing down my spine. His tongue rolls and grinds against my lips, faster now, harder, deeper with each thrust. I can’t get enough. I’m begging, screaming for him to push me to the edge.

"Liam!" I scream as my orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave. My entire body tenses up and then releases under him as the most intense pleasure I've ever experienced shoots through me. I roil and buck, making it challenging for his lips to stay connected to my clit as his hand rains stinging pain on my ass again. “Shit, oh, shit.”

As my orgasmic haze begins to dissipate, he rises up on his knees and slides his hard length between my quivering folds. I arch upward, silently begging him to take me. "Say it. Tell me what you want," he commands.

He angles his cock and pushes himself just inside me before pulling back out again, teasing me mercilessly. "Please," I mutter. He chuckles darkly before surging all the way in, filling every inch of me with one hard thrust. His name escapes my lipsin a strangled cry of unadulterated pleasure as our bodies collide forcefully, over and over again.

“Tell me again,” he growls, smacking my ass once more before plunging his cock even deeper inside me. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“I love it,” I moan. “I love it!” I do love it, every fucking inch of it. The way he pounds me, the way my body shakes, the way my tits bounce. I want more.

“You love what, baby?” he asks, and I can hear the smirk in his voice as he pumps into me relentlessly, claiming me as his own.

“I love... your cock,” I moan just before I lose myself to another orgasm. It’s incredible, the sensations of pain and pleasure mixing together in a symphony of grunts and screams. My body trembles and quakes. My nails itch to claw his skin. My tits bounce as he fucks me, and I’m lost in it all.

Liam doesn’t stop there, though. He continues to pound into me, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. But I don’t care in this moment. The only thing that matters is the friction between us and the cock buried deep inside me, making me feel things I never thought possible. A series of powerful thrusts later, he groans out my name before collapsing on top of me, spent. Sweat and semen mingle between our joined bodies, panting in unison as we come down from our highs.

No condom… that’s all I can think. He didn’t use a condom, and I don’t know how to react. I’m tethered to his bed by these fucking handcuffs, and he’s on top of me, biting my neck, letting his cum drain from me onto the mattress and make a mess. I’m not on the pill, and I don't know if he has something. I don’t think iteven occurs to him that I may be feeling uncomfortable, he’s so into this.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he growls as his teeth continue to rake across my neck and collar bone. He squeezes one tit at a time then rolls off me, leaving me dangling there by the handcuffs. My wrists burn and ache, and my shoulders feel stretched out, but the rest of my body feels like gelatin, jiggly and loose.

“Liam… you didn’t use protection.” By now, I’d have thought he’d have figured that out, but we were both pretty into the moment. Meanwhile, his sex is soaking the sheets and puddling under me.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he says, sitting up on the edge of the bed. I look up at where my wrists are trapped and sigh hard. “We can handle anything, alright?” He’s being a little callous. I should be scrubbing myself right now, washing away his semen, but I know better than to anger him. I’d just like him to let me go.

“Can you let me go? My arms will bruise. The director will?—”

“That fuck stick will say nothing. You can wear gloves or makeup. Your skin is perfect to me.” Liam turns and leans over me, kissing me once before crawling across me on the bed to reach for the key on the opposite nightstand. His dick presses against my cheek, and I snicker as our moisture makes my hair cling to him, reminding me of the first time he fucked me and made me suck him off.

He unlocks the cuffs and kisses the tender skin on my wrists where they were rubbed a little raw. Then he hovers over me and acts a bit possessive, pinning me down again. I’m a bituncomfortable with how he’s physical sometimes, but I know he means well. I push back, and he only grinds his hips into my thigh. He’s still semi-hard. How the fuck can he still be hard after that?

“Why did you call him that?”

“Who what?” he asks, playing dumb.

“The director. You called him a fuck stick. Why?” Mr. Monroe has done nothing to upset Liam. I’m not sure why he has a problem with him.

“Because he is. He has no clue what he is doing. Someone ought to replace him and the theater head. They need to get their eyes and ears checked.” Liam scowls and pulls away from me, and I get the feeling he’s irritated. Which isn’t a good thing. I can’t tell him about the mail if he’s already in a foul mood.

“What do you mean… replace him? Why would he need to be replaced? He does a good job.” I sit up, wondering why Liam is all of a sudden talking negatively about them, as if he’s threatening them.

“I just think they need a better leader at that theater. He’ll leave someday, though. Then you will get a better director.”

In order to hide my nervous expression, I slide off the bed. “I’m gonna wash up. I’ll be back.” I slip out of the bedroom into the bathroom and hide there while I try to understand the weird shift in Liam’s behavior. Why would he threaten Mr. Monroe? Was he threatening him? I don’t understand.

I take a few minutes to collect my thoughts and tidy myself up before returning to the bedroom. Liam is now clad in nothing but his boxers, his lean frame propped against the headboard.The flickering light of the TV casts a warm glow over his features as he turns up the volume with the remote.

“Would you look at this shit? You can’t make this up…” The expression on his face is shocked and almost amused. I have to tear my eyes away when I hear what the newscaster is saying.

A chill runs down my spine. “Authorities say Mr. Nicholas Flemming was intoxicated when the house caught fire and probably died due to smoke inhalation before the fire even got to his bedroom. There will be a full toxicology report to determine the exact cause of death, but authorities are not ruling out foul play.”

“Oh, God…” I murmur. The last person I told about the stalker is dead now. I can’t tell Liam. What if the stalker targets him next? How do I even tell the police now? What if he targets me?

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