Page 104 of Executing Malice
Conflict gets resolved and everyone walks away on their own two feet.
Or conflict gets resolved, but the other guy gets carried away on a stretcher.
I’m not usually hot headed, but I do have a temper that manifests in a snake in the grass kind of way. It strikes before I can feel the approach.
I’ve tried therapy. I thought it would help once I found Leila. I could show her my progress and beg her to give me another chance. I thought if I could show her that what happened that night wouldn’t happen again, she’d take me back.
But therapy was a lot of talking about my past, my parents and siblings. Things that didn’t matter. And I wasn’t going to open up to a stranger who couldn’t possibly understand. I just needed her to tell me how to stop being angry. How not to kill again.
I exhale into Leila’s soft curls. She’s curled on her side with her back nestled down my front. She hadn’t protested when I wiggled my cock back inside her after hours of relentless fucking. Stopping only on the ride back from the drive-in.
But I had her on my cock before we even got fully up the porch steps. I fucked her right against the front door before carrying her inside, cock still buried deep, all the way to her bed where I started over again.
I lost count of how many times we came. My dick refused to go down, even after, it stayed rigid and determined to go again. It was as if it was making up for lost time.
One thing is for sure, I know I got her pregnant. I know it with the same visceral and unfaltering certainty as the fact that the sun will come up in the morning.
I definitely put a baby in her.
There is no way I didn’t with the amount of cum I pumped inside her. Gallons of it, over and over again, until it came out of her in puddles.
My hand drifts across the soft plains of her belly. I stroke her flesh. Cradle it like I will when it starts to swell. I even trace little circles over her navel with my thumb.
“I can almost hear what you’re thinking,” Leila grumbles, voice thick with sleep and amusement.
I grin into the tangled riot tickling my chin. “I want a little girl with your eyes.”
Her snort is broken by a yawn. “I think you might have gotten your wish after last night ... and this morning.”
I tug her tighter against me. “Sore?”
She makes a soft humming sound. “Oddly enough, no. I do, however, need a shower. You messed up the one we took last night.”
I give a feigned sigh. “Fine. I won’t join you or help you wash your back.”
Her laugh is deeper. “Is that what you were trying to do when you fucked me against the tiles?”
“That was my helper fee.”
I’m a little disappointed when she pivots to face me, dislodging my cock from her pussy. But it fleets the moment I get trapped in her eyes.
“I’m going to take a shower. Alone,” she adds with a chuckle. “I can’t be late for work twice in one week and I know your hands won’t stay on my back.”
I purse my lips at her. “I can behave.”
Leila’s eyebrow quirks. “Liar.”
Okay, so she’s not wrong. I have zero control over my actions when she’s naked and wet.
“Fine, but I should taste your pussy before you go.”
I’m pulling her onto her back and shoving her thighs wide before she can stop me. Even when she tries, when she shields her mound with her hands, I swat them aside.
“I’m leaking,” she protests like I give a shit.
“That’s how I want my little whore. Used and dripping.”
I plant my face in her slick heat, and I eat. I lap at her channel drenched with a mix of her and me. A delicious blend I would happily make a part of my diet for the rest of my life. I nip at her clit. I devour her cunt until she’s clutching fistfuls of my hair and riding my face.
