Page 58 of Caution Tape

She leaps on Ryan, straddling him, holding him down with one hand, the muscles in her shoulders, back and thighs straining and flexing as she uses her entire body to pin him in place.

The knife makes such sweet noises as Cora drives it into him, over and over. A wet, punchy sound.

I wonder vaguely what it would be like to fuck Cora on top of Ryan’s dead body, but I let that fantasy go the moment she starts doing snow angels on the floor in the bloody aftermath.

We have too much to do.

First, we must celebrate.

I join her on the kitchen floor, eyes fixed on the side of her face as she smiles widely, having a special moment all to herself. She appears proud. Like she has finally found her happy place, and for some odd reason, I find myself sharing these emotions with her.

Abruptly, she turns my way, locking her eyes with mine.

“I’m a murderer,” she says, finally coming to grasp with reality.

“Indeed,” I reply. “Youmonster. Howeverwill you sleep at night?”

A small grin plays at her mouth, yet she stays quiet.

“How do you feel?”

She glances down at her hands, at the knife she’s still holding, trailing her gaze beside me to the limp form of Ryan crumpled on the floor.

“I feel incredible... alive…” She casually wipes the blood off the knife, rubbing it back and forth on the top of her thigh. Then her hand suddenly encircles my cock, grasping it tightly. “And like I need to be fucked again. Right now.”

“We gotta get your boyfriend’s body out of here. We have to clean up the house. We have a ton to do.”

Hearing these words coming out of my mouth is dizzying. I sound like I’m fucking married. Next, I’ll be telling her we need to get milk. Look at a brand-new washer and dryer. Bake a casserole for the neighbors.

She sits up and straddles my thighs, and I can’t help but lock in on the knife. She’s still holding it, that looming threat of violence lurking between us like a storm cloud ready to burst with rain and lightning.

It is uncomfortable to admit, but I am a little wary of her.

As soon as I start to sit upright, she pushes me back down, the knife point aimed at my bare stomach, Cora tracing circles in the air with it.

“How about we put the knife down?”

She laughs, and slowly runs the flat part of the blade along my sternum, before lifting my cock and rubbing the blade over the shaft, pressing it between her hand and the metal and moving it back and forth, the warmth of her palm contrasting with the coldness of the knife in a tantalizing way.

“Cora… what are you doing?”

“What?” she asks innocently.

We’re in a pool of blood. So much blood. There’s blood in her hair, and on her face. Blood on the floor. Blood on me. It’s like the universe is serving me every pleasurable image it can, and it’s setting off alarm bells.

Things are too good.

Cora takes the point of the knife and holds it to the underside of my erection, the point sharp and stinging… but not entirely unenjoyable. She edges it very slowly to the crease between where the head starts and shaft ends, letting the full weight of it rest there. Using just the knife point to hold it up, she sensually begins kissing the tip, her full lips enveloping it, her tongue wet and tortuous as she refuses to remove the knife, refuses to suck it fully. She simply teases me and watches me suffer.

“Oh fuck, Cora—“ I don’t have words anymore. I’m caught between agony and ecstasy.

“What? I’m just being your little monster.” When her mouth forms the “r” sound, she bites down slightly, grazing me with her teeth. “I need you inside me again, Nolan.”

She presses the head of my cock at her entrance and lowers herself onto me, taking me all the way. My hands find her hips, my fingertips digging into her skin. Cora’s mouth falls open and her eyes roll into the back of her head, a tiny little cry escaping her chest. My cock swells as she rides me faster, rocking her hips, bouncing on my lap with a vengeance until she’s begging me to come with her again.

That’s when my cock erupts and I come harder than I ever have before, gripping her waist so tightly she grabs onto my wrists, crying out in pain.

My brain is in a pleasurable fog as I catch my breath, but one thought does manage to surface:

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