Page 47 of Countdown to Murder
I twisted under him, trying to help him go deeper, but he put his hands around my ribcage and held me still while he pounded into me. His pupils dilated until his eyes were a shimmery black outlined by golden rings. His lashes fell and then rose. One of his hands moved to the magical spot between my legs, and reality splintered. Ecstasy slammed into me and I lost control of everything. Nothing mattered except his dick, his hands, his mouth, and the overwhelming pleasure suffusing every neuron in my body.
* * * *
Panda
When she finally, completely lost it, her legs took on a life of their own while I came deep, deep inside her. It’s a damned good thing I was wearing a condom, because I wouldn’t have been able to pull out. Each of her legs became a giant snake, with a huge snake head in the place of her feet, and I couldn’t move away.
Operating on the idea that on some level, Mira was in control, I ignored the snakes and kissed her jawline, below her ear, her neck. I couldn’t move away without fightingthe snakes, but they didn’t seem to want to bite me, and they hadn’t flared in a show of aggression.
But the heads were bigger than a Dobermann’s, and my dick went soft after I came. I can usually keep it hard and keep going, but my balls were deep inside my body, and my dick was doing its best to follow them.
“Mira, Darlin’. You okay? Talk to me, sweetheart.”
Her hand lifted and ran through my hair, and her legs shifted and relaxed. I could see a foot out of the corner of my eye, and I rolled to the side and brought her with me.
“Do I need to feed you again?”
“No. I’m good. How long until we can do that again?” She rubbed her hand down my jaw, over my beard. Her voice was sleepy, relaxed. Had she even realized what she’d done?
“Food first.” I caressed her hair, her arm, and I moved her so she was tucked up into me, her back to my chest.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mira
Panda’s voice was liquid honey. Deep, soothing, and amber. I know that last part doesn’t seem to make sense, and maybe I was thinking of his eyes, or maybe orgasms were like a drug to me and I was high as a fucking kite.
I lifted his arm to my mouth and licked, then kissed, and then licked again.
“Is it possible to become addicted to someone?” I asked.
He kissed the back of my neck, and a wave of sensation passed from my neck to my toes, and everywhere in between. My clitoris throbbed. My nipples tightened. I reached up and felt them — hard little pebbles on the tips of my too-small breasts.
And then suddenly, I was alone in bed, the naked heat of his chest and legs no longer curled behind me.
I turned to look at him, and he ran his hand through his wild hair.
“We have to talk before we do this again. With clothes, because I’m not sure I can say no to you if you keep licking me.”
He turned, grabbed a pair of his jeans, and walked out of the room.
Suddenly chilled, I stood and looked around the room. His shirt was nearby on the floor, and I put it on. It came to my knees, so I figured it passed as clothes.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked when I stepped into the living room.
He shook his head. “Wrong? No, but I don’t think you’re aware of what you did, so we need to talk about it.”
He stepped to me and cupped my cheek in his hand. “Nothing wrong, Mira. Come, sit with me, so I can tell you of this new skill I think you’ve discovered.”
“New skill?”
He shrugged. “I’m assuming you’d have told me if you could turn your limbs into individual snakes.”
“I can’t.”
“You did.”
Terror filled my gut. “When? What?”
