Page 50 of Half the Summer's Night
At that, I groan and press my hand onto the top of his mask, pinning him in place between my legs as his tongue swipes and curls into my cunt.
“Please,” I cry, thrusting against his mouth. “Please. I want to come. I’m so fucking clo—oh my god! Right there!” He’s doing something to my clit that makes my whole lower body quake in pleasure. “Don’t stop! Please don’t fucking stop!”
I’m peaking against, pleasure surging up in me like a riptide. I think he knows it, too, because he pulls his tongue away with a slow, lazy swipe. I screech in frustration.
“I’m begging you!” I scream, thrusting my hips against his face. “Please! Nameless! Whoever the fuck you are! I’ll die if you don’t let me come!”
He groans when I say that, a deep throaty sound that sends another pulse of pleasure straight through my core. “Say that again,” he growls into my pussy, right before he latches onto my clit.
“I’ll die,” I gasp, my words coming out panty and desperate. I can feel the window to my right, exposing our sin to the world. “If you don’t make me come, I’ll die. You’ll—“ I keen as he thrusts his tongue up inside me. “You’ll fucking kill me if you don’t?—”
I’m tilting over, the knot of tension tightening deep in my core. “Please!” I scream, tears streaking out of my squeezed-shut eyes. I dig my fingers against the rubber of his mask until it shifts beneath my touch, and he kisses me harder. “Please, Nameless, I’m begging you tolet me co?—“
The tension breaks, and ecstasy floods through me. I lose all my words and can only shriek and flop against the dais as Nameless, my killer, licks me through one hot, fluttering contraction after another. The world falls away, and I’m just floating on a bed of pleasure. It seems to stretch on for hours, and Nameless never stops kissing me.
Then I snap back to reality. I’m in the fucking viewing room, spread-legged on the dais where a casket is supposed to go. A murderer is still kissing between my legs, although those kisses have softened, each one leaving a little pulse of heat in its wake.
The window is open.
I gasp and sit up, scooting backward to get away from him. He doesn’t move to stop me. Instead, he just stares at me, his mask slightly askew, his lips swollen.
As I watch, he runs his tongue over them, cleaning his mouth like a cat. Then he pushes back to standing.
I pull my legs closed. Then I reach over and grab the curtain and yank it over the window. Well, half the window. I can’t reach the other side.
But Nameless does it for me, drawing the curtain shut with a low, lazy movement. I’m suddenly afraid of what’s going to happen next.
He turns to me and slides his mask back down.
“Thank you,” he says softly. “For letting me touch you.”
A strange warmth surges through my belly. No one’s ever said anything like that to me before, and I don’t know how to respond. So instead I just ask, “N-now what?” The question comes out shaky, and I hate that my eyes drop down to thevisible bulge of his erection. I suddenly want nothing more than to have him in my mouth.
But if he notices, he doesn’t say anything. “I’ll keep watching you, little detective.” He steps around the dais, coming up close to me. But all he does his tilt my face upward with his finger. His eyes blaze beneath the mask. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“You killed the man who wanted to hurt me,” I say carefully.
Nameless doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at me. His silence is unnerving,
“There could be someone else,” he finally says.
And before I can register all the things that could mean, he slips away from me—out into the hallway, and out into the dark night.
19
ROWAN
Ican barely think straight as I stumble across the yard, past the sunflowers, and out onto the empty street. The night is heavy and thick with humidity. The insect song is deafening.
But I swear I can still hear Abi’s heartbeat inside the house, soft and steady and safe.
I climb the cemetery gate and slump down on the other side, sucking in deep breaths of air. My cock is so hard it’s painful, and I adjust it listlessly over my pants, half-expecting to come from the friction. I nearly came earlier when I got my first taste of Abi’s pleasure. Her orgasm coated my face with slick, salty-sweet arousal, and I can still taste it. Still smell it.
I groan softly, slumping against the fence, absentmindedly rubbing my cock over my pants. I’ve jerked off in this cemetery plenty of times in the last few years. But it’s different tonight.
Tonight, Abi got to come, too.
I push myself up and lurch toward the trees, holding the memory of Abi’s long, shuddery orgasm in my head. The way she begged me for release, screaming that she would die without my tongue, calling meNamelesslike it’s a secret between us?—
