Page 288 of That Time I Accidentally Became A Serial Killer

She waved her hands frantically, making strangled noises, glaring at Sebastian like she was mentally setting him on fire.

I crossed my arms over my chest, biting back a grin.

Yeah.

Mine.

And the whole damn world was gonna know it.

Currently, Poppy is doing one of my favorite things—riding my face like the most graceful, filthy little equestrian the world’s ever seen.

Another thing she hadn’t experienced before.

Another thing I was all too happy to gift her.

She’s gorgeous like this—wild and desperate, her thighs trembling against my jaw, her slickness coating my mouth as she chases another high I’m hell-bent on giving her.

“Please, Declan,” she gasps, voice wrecked, almost broken. “I can’t take it anymore.”

I lift my eyes to hers, lock us in that sweet standoff I love too much.

“Say it, baby,” I growl before dropping my mouth back to her clit, sucking her hard. “Be my nasty girl.”

It’s the soft whimper that does it—the way she breaks when she finally gives in.

“Eat my pussy like the whore you are, Declan.”

The filthy words barely leave her mouth before I’m devouring her—ruthless, hungry, like she’s the only thing that’s ever mattered.

She leans back, bracing herself on my chest, hips rolling in frantic rhythm, sobbing in relief as she falls apart for me.

I lap up every drop, moaning against her, so fucking aroused it’s embarrassing—and it doesn’t even matter.

I’m coming in my pants, grunting, dry-humping nothing like some depraved teenager just from the taste of her.

It launches her into another orgasm, a shuddering, writhing mess above me.

Poppy leans forward, gripping the headboard, riding my face harder, smearing herself across my tongue without shame.

And this time she doesn’t need coaxing.

“Are you coming just from eating my pretty pussy?” she pants, voice wrecked and sweet and utterly lethal. “Keep sucking, baby, just like that.”

Head thrashing. “More.” Panting galore. “Don’t stop.”

More filth pours from her mouth—each word a brand on my fucking soul.

She finally slides down my body, straddling me, licking her release off my mouth like she’s claiming every inch of me.

“That may go down as one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced,” she says, breathless and smiling against my lips.

I grab her hips, grinding her against my still-hard cock.

“Not hotter than you riding my dick with your brand on my chest,” I mutter, making her blush and bite her lip like she’s already planning her next sin.

I flip us over, pants open, cock out, and slide into her pulsing cunt.

Home.

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