Page 44 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats

Lilah says her pussy is sore too, but she wants more. She likes the reminder of me being inside her when I’m not. When she says things like that, I can’t help but fuck her again, pain be damned.

“I think I have an idea,” Lilah says as she steps away from the globe in the corner of my library. I look up from my notebook asshe heads over to the desk and sits on it, in the way she always does. On the corner to my right, like an adorable, sexy gargoyle.

My hands slide between her thighs, and I push them apart, taking in the sight of her bare pussy. She’s red and swollen. I can see how sore she is, but I groan anyway, my mouth watering because I wantmore.

“Atty, this is important,” she says, shoving my hands away.

“So is this,” I growl, sliding off my chair and dropping to my knees in front of her.

She giggles just as I swipe my tongue over her.

“I don’t think I can come again,” she whines, lifting her feet to rest on my shoulders.

“You will,” I tell her. “I’ll make sure of it.”

I know her body better than my own. I know just where to touch her, how and when, to make her explode.

My tongue is gentle against her clit, teasing her until she’s panting and begging for more. That’s when I stand, pull out my dick, and carefully slide into her. She moans, long and low. I rub her clit with my thumb as I thrust in and out, driving her crazy. Driving me crazy, too. The way she feels wrapped around me… there’s no way to explain it.

“Atty,” she whimpers. “Oh god—how?”

A smile crosses my face as I watch her chest move faster with each breath she takes. She grips the edge of the desk, her eyes squeezing shut as she detonates. Her pussy pulses around me, soaking my dick with her release. Her moans turn to laughs.

“You are a magician,” she says.

I chuckle, pulling out of her to tuck myself back in.

“Wait, no—”

“Later,” I tell her, buttoning my pants. “Tell me your idea.”

“Idea?” She sits up, running her hands through her hair.

“Yes, Kitten. Before I enjoyed you for a snack, you said you had an idea.”

“Oh, right!” She hops off the desk and slaps my shoulder. “Stop distracting me.”

She takes my hand and tugs on it, pulling me toward the globe. She spins it, smiling at me before bringing her attention to the map of Boston that’s hanging on my wall. Tucked in the corner of the frame, the photo of my parents that I kept in my shoe for years rests. The map is hand painted and framed, a piece I found at a flea market for less money than it’s worth. The photo sits there because it’s what felt right when I came back. It’s across from my desk, and though it’s too small for me to see as I sit, I feel like they’re watching me.

I have mixed feelings over my parents, but I don’t hate them. I’ve learned and accepted that they did their best—and they certainly did better than my bio mom.

There are plenty of photos of us hanging in the house, mostly in places I don’t go to. But there is something about this particular photo that was taken in Paris, the Eiffel Tower far in the distance, that feels a little different than all the others do.

Lilah points to an area on the map, pulling me from my nostalgia.

“J,” she says, sliding her hand to another area. “A.” Then she goes to another. “M…”

My eyes narrow as I follow her finger as it slides to another spot on the map. “E. And…” She taps the final spot. “S.”

I blink a few times, darting my gaze back to all the areas she pointed to.

Judson St. Ann St. Myrtle St. Essex St. State St.

“What better way to get his attention than to call him out by name?” she says with a smug smile.

I turn toward her, amazed at how smart she is.

“Fuck, you’re a genius,” I say, picking her up and spinning her around. I kiss her neck, her cheeks, her lips, her forehead…everywhere my lips will reach. “If I hadn’t just made you come, I would right now.”

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