Page 19 of Slaying for Santa
She shudders as I watch her, and fuck… did she just come too? I can’t fucking tell as I watch her fade quickly, her eyes rolling into the back of her head and I pump more and more into her before her body finally goes limp.
“Fuuuuck. You were made for me,” I rasp, knowing she’s out cold and can’t hear that fucking admission.
Easing my cock from her abused mouth, her head lulls to the side, so I give her face a little tap.
“Bell. Wakey, wakey.”
Nothing.
“Bell…” I slap her face harder.
Still nothing.
“Bell!” I yell, shaking her, and her fucking head lulls forward.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I fucking killed her!
“No, Bell! Fuck!”
I drag her flat to the floor, pressing my fingers to her neck to check for a pulse.
“Fucking hell. Don’t you die on me!” I find a faint thrum of her pulse, and as relieved as I am to feel it, it’s fucking weak.
Rolling her onto her side in the recovery position, I forcemy fingers into her mouth, scooping out the residual cum, before thumping her back a few times.
Looking up, I spot my phone sitting on the far bedside table.
Fuck. I need to call an ambulance.
A choked gagging sound lurches from Bell, and her entire body coils as she starts coughing up some of my cum that must have been deep down in her throat.
I rub her back as my panic fades, but my fear still remains, because shit… I nearly killed her. I let go for the first time with another person, and I fucking nearly killed her.
Bell hacks up some more, pushing herself up on her elbow, and once she’s done, she flops back on the floor, her gaze trained on the ceiling as her lips spread wide in a grin, and fuck, her pupils are blown like she’s high.
Shit, is she?
“Have you taken something?” I snarl, and with that lazy smirk, she lolls her head from side to side.
“No, Kitty Kat. You’re the only thing that’s made me high.” Her lazy stare flicks to me. “Don’t worry.”
My brows shoot up. “Don’t worry?”
“Nine hundred and nineteen days, remember?” She slurs. “I’m not throwing that away for anything.”
I fucking gape at her. “I nearly killed you.”
She shrugs, panting. “I’m still alive. Relax.”
“Relax?” I fucking squeak like my voice just broke. “Bell… what I did?—”
Her hand slaps haphazardly over my mouth. “Shhhh. Your concern is too loud.” She drops her hand to the carpet, patting it. “Come down here with me.”
I realise I’m fucking heaving, so I work to calm my breathing and slow my racing heart, shuffling to lay down on the floor next to her.
For a few minutes, we lay there staring up at my ceiling insilence. What we just did plays like a reel through my head, giving me snapshots of moments.
