Page 33 of Can't Stop
Well, for us. Not so much for our victims.
But as I slide onto the bed, it seems I won’t have to kill at all. The husband has already expired. I’m only mildly disappointed, though, because I get a better idea.
Over the man’s body, I pull Dalton in for a kiss. His mouth moves to my neck, and as he bathes my skin in sensual, hungry kisses, I whisper in his ear so that only he can hear.
“He’s already dead, but she doesn’t know that. Play along.”
He growls against my skin. “Your wish is my command,” he whispers back.
I move to the head of the bed and straddle the man’s face. Dalton opens his mouth to argue, but then he remembers that this mouth isn’t experiencing me at all and will never experience anything again. It’s all an act to psychologically torture his bitch of a wife.
“Fuck, for a dying man, he sure is hungry for good pussy,” I say as I tweak my nipples and look right into the woman’s face. “Is that why you were so afraid for him to see my body? Were you scared he might realize what a hag his wife is?”
She screams and throws her body forward, but Dalton stuffed the gag back into her mouth, so at least it’s muffled. He also moved the chair against the foot of the bed so that she couldn’t topple to the floor again. This is one performance we won’t allow her to miss. And we value audience participation.
Dalton moves closer to me, sitting up on his knees beside me as his hand caresses my ass and guides the gentle rock of my hips. Grinding on a dead man’s face creates an interesting sensation. His skin no longer produces warmth, creating a steadily cooling sensation against my pussy. I imagine what it will feel like when Dalton replaces that death chill with his living heat, and it’s enough to make me clench.
“When the woman isn’t a raging cunt, no amount of skin can tear a loyal man’s eyes away from her. You never have to fear that from me. I worship you, bones, and no one will ever tempt me to stray.”
“You don’t have to fear it either, Dalton. I said yes to you because I say no to everyone else. Always.” I rock my hips faster. “Only you.”
He sits up straighter and fists his cock, stroking to the same rhythm. “How does he feel beneath you?”
The woman screams behind the gag.
“I’m close already, but I want you to make me come.” I trace along the man’s midsection with the blade. “Let’s see what’s inside first, though.”
Without any more fanfare, I sink the knife into his abdomen. The metal slides through skin, and without any tensing muscles to provide added resistance, it’s like pushing through a chuck roast. I grip the handle and brace myself, yanking back with each forward drive of my hips. My tempo slows, dragging out the promise of sweet release. Blood cascades over the side of the separated skin and sloshes against Dalton’s thigh. He drags his hand through the crimson puddle and keeps stroking his cock.
The woman finally works the gag free. “Please just let me go. I’ll be a better person. I will let go of my son, I promise! He’s dead, and I know that now. You helped me understand.”
“Bitch, you can plead all you want, but nothing is stopping this,” Dalton says.
With blood coating his cock and the promise of more on the way, he loses control. His hand travels across my scalp. He grips my hair at the back of my head and squeezes until each root screams in ecstasy. My eyes practically roll in my head. I drive my hands into the man’s abdomen and revel in the slippery texture of organs and tissue as an orgasm builds low in my belly.
Dalton yanks my head toward his stiff cock and forces my lips over the bloody coating. I barely have time to protect my teeth as he rams himself to the back of my throat.
A low growl rumbles within his chest. “You like it when I choke you with my dick, don’t you?”
It’s impossible to reply with his dick blocking my windpipe, but he never expected a response. That much is clear as his head tips back and he fucks my face a little harder.
The woman has had all she can stand. The legs of the chair grate against the floor as she scoot-hops toward the door. I don’t know what she expects to do when she gets there, but she’s giving it her very best.
Dalton pulls himself from my mouth and hurries to stop her. Gripping the chair back, he tips her backward and wobbles her to her starting position. Personally, I’m getting bored with the audience.
“Let’s finish her off so we can finish each other. Please?” I say with a perfect pout.
That sends her into a tirade of screams and wails.
“How’d you want to do it?” he asks.
I reach back into the man’s insides, claw past a wall of muscle, and grip a rope of intestines. “I think I have an idea.”
Chapter Twenty
Dalton
The intestines prove too slippery and fragile. They tear and slide out of our fingertips each time we wind them around her neck or an appendage. I’m currently sitting on the woman’s back as she flails and cries beneath me. By the time we abandon the intestines, my dick is flaccid and flopping between my legs, and she’s covered in shreds of blood and human tissue. It doesn’t change the fact that she has to die, though, and I really like Rayna’s plan, so I look around for an alternative.
