Page 48 of Thief

He twisted his fingers, scissoring, and widening her. She squirmed at the new torturing flames, and her hips jutted away in reflex, almost making his cock slip out of her.

“No,” he murmured. “Stay with it.” His other hand squeezed around her abdomen, keeping her just where he wanted her as he fucked her with his dick and his hand.

Her heart was pounding, stealing her breaths as she opened around the width of his fingers. “John, I don’t…”

“You started this, Pussy Cat,”

“I know. I just…” She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. The feeling was wicked, carnal. A third finger joined the party. She fisted the cushion on the sofa and groaned in time with the DVD woman. The fierce prick of pain was so on the edge of her pleasure it was like they were twins. She should say no, she should stop this, but she couldn’t, she was desperate for it.

“You’re nearly ready,” he said. “Take it easy, baby.” He pulled his cock out of her pussy, and he cradled its length between her butt cheeks. His fingers finished their assault and withdrew with a soft pop. She heard the squelch of more lube and found herself mewing for his attention. She wanted filling; she needed him back there. Her climax was hovering, waiting to be taken.

He pushed her hips forward, and his dick slid down her butt crack to her once again tightly puckered hole.

She throbbed with terror and excitement.

With one of his hands resting on her shoulder, his other stayed locked around her waist. “Relax,” he said, though his own voice sounded far from relaxed. “Try not to scream too loud.”

The head of his cock pressed at the elastic band of her anus. Plump, hard and so, so wide. Her senses reeled. What they were about to do was something she’d never before considered, but the last few days, it had wandered in and out of her mind like a party guest demanding attention.

“Take a deep breath,” John said.

Kat did as he asked, and as she filled her lungs, her hole loosened for the briefest of moments. He took full advantage and pushed forward an inch, rasping over nerve endings she didn’t even know she possessed. Her head shot up, and her back arched to breaking point. The feeling was a sudden, blinding, furious whack of arousal. She opened her mouth to howl but no sound came out.

“Blow that breath out for me, baby.” His hand left her shoulder to massage her tailbone in small, steady circles.

She blew out and felt sweat bead on her brow and between her cleavage.

He eased forward another inch. So bulky, so rigid, such barely harnessed power in her most delicate, private part. “More,” she heard herself say as white hot electricity whipped at her newly found desires. “More, God, please, more…” She resisted the urge to scream like a banshee woman having the time of her life.

He took hold of her hips and, in time with the guy on the TV, pushed in steadily, stretching and widening until he’d eased to the hilt and his balls rested on her pussy lips. “Oh, yes, that’s so fucking deep, so fucking silky, and your arsehole is squeezing me so tight you’ll snap my dick off, Pussy Cat.”

Kat’s legs buckled, and she dropped towards the ground. She felt filled farther than she would ever have imagined possible. His arm tightened around her stomach and held her at a ninety-degree angle against his impaling cock and his hard thighs.

She wanted to crawl away and get used to the overwhelming heavy sensation of being so intimately invaded, work through her pleasure-pain barriers alone, in private. Figure out what all previous pleasure concepts had meant to her up until that moment. But she couldn’t. He was fucking her arse now. Moving slowly in and slowly out. Not all the way out, just enough to get a burning friction going. A black, velvet hunger grew in her back passage. Heated and needy, it demanded more, and she found her hips jerking to meet his gentle thrust, encouraging him into a more meaty rhythm.

“You’re so damn good,” he ground out and began to finger her clit. “So good, sweet like honey, hot like chilli. Come for me, baby, ‘cause I can’t last long. It’s too fucking gorgeous in here.” He pumped hips. He pulled out and drove back in desperate groan. “Oh, shit, it’s here, too late…”

But Kat was there, too, matching his orgasm. She pushed harder towards his heated cock and sank onto his finger rubbing her clit with near violent energy. Brilliant bursts of light grew in her vision as her orgasm flew her to another level of existence. She exploded; she didn’t know if her heart could take it.

His fingers milked her clit with a ruthless squeezing and rubbing motion. It was a realm of ecstasy she could never have previously imagined. John’s cock spurting into her, filling her with his delicious salty seed as she marooned herself on his hand, every rectal muscle contracting in bunches of wild, hard spasms and grabbing hold of him tighter and tighter.

She wailed, flung open her eyes and saw her reflection in the now black screen of the television. In her face, she saw the same untamed, consumed expression of her look-alike. Sanity and order were a distant memory. Only deeply hidden places existed; only primitive instincts and forbidden fruits were allowed.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” John muttered and then said something in a language she didn’t recognise. He released her now fulfilled, throbbing clit but continued to pull her onto him by her hips. Harsh breaths flooded down onto her bare lower back. “You still with me, baby?” he panted.

Kat nodded and dropped her head onto her forearms, squeezing her eyes shut.

John stayed deeply embedded, twitching and pulsing out the final stage of his climax. “That was so fucking good I could do it all over again,” he said.

Chapter Eight

Kat arrived outside the Bakers Arms in Amersham as the sun was dipping behind the rolling green Chiltern Hills. The traffic was heavy on the journey out of London, and she’d tapped her foot all the way, anxious about missing Nick Turnbull. She’d paid the driver a hundred and twenty including tip, climbed out, straightened her dress and set her face ready for business.

The pub was an old Tudor style building. Built with heavy grey stones and a thatched roof, it had several entrances surrounded by luxurious spring-flower hanging baskets. Kat chose the entrance nearest the car park and scanned for the Mercedes. With a flutter of nerves, she hoped tonight of all nights Carlos’s information would be accurate and her hit would be waiting.

With a breath of relief, she spotted the expensive silver car. It was parked in a corner, huddled by trees as if trying to hide—hide from her.

A satisfied smile spread across her face, and she trip-trapped through the pubs swing door. The plan was ready to go. Soon, she would be rich–very rich.

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