Page 48 of Insatiable

As I bring her to orgasm again, her fingers twist in the bedding. Her thighs try to crash together, but I spread them with a knee as her walls crush my fingers through each spasm.

She captures my wrist, her pleading gaze begging me to stop because it’s too much. I remove my fingers from her pussy and lick them clean while she watches; I fight the deep groan threatening to leave my lungs from her addictive taste.

My mouth lowers to hers, and before I can capture her lips, she tilts her head to the side. “No. Don’t kiss me.”

She kissed him.

My nostrils flare with rage, and I flip her. “On your hands and knees. I don’t want to look at you.” The words feel like poison on my tongue.

She complies, slowly, then glances at me over her shoulder with a raised brow.

“So I can picture you as someone else.”

She rolls her eyes, pulling a pillow under her body. “You’re such a dick.”

Of course that doesn’t bother her. She’s here to be fucked and that’s it.

Her ass hikes, and I spit on her back hole. She flinches and glares at me while I swirl the tip of my thumb around it.

“What?”

She grits her teeth and swipes at my hand. “If you evendareput anything in there, I’ll rip your balls off.”

I fight a laugh, giving her ass cheek a slap, my cock twitching as she whimpers from the sting. I can see everything – her glistening pussy and the forbidden hole I want to stick my tongue in. I revel in the fact I was the first to break in every area.

I slide the head of my cock up her thigh, capturing wetness, then rub it over her pussy and ass. She winces, and I ease back before I ignore her threat and try to shove into the back hole.

She’s dripping, and I rub my thumbs into her inner thighs, spreading her cum. Then I bunch her top in my hand, push it up to her head and shove her face into the pillow.

Her back has some tattoos to go with those on her arms and legs. She’s like a fucking work of art of all my designs. I love ink; I love drawing tattoos, especially for her.

I spot my favourite, which I drew when we were in a hotel in London, the same night we lost our virginities to one another. I have the same tattoo –KandS, integrated in a twisted design of meaningful scripture, roses and vines that makes our initials hard to notice.

She didn’t want Luciella or Tylar to notice. Because I was her dirty little secret, and she wanted to keep it that way.

A tightness tugs in my chest, but I bat it down and shove two fingers inside her again. She’s ready.

There’s a veil of darkness lowering in my mind that I’m always fighting against, and now of all times is not the fucking moment for it to descend. My eyes involuntarily flutter into a rapid blink I’m unable to control, and the room blurs.

Bernadette’s voice is in my head, as if she’s whispering over my left shoulder about what a good boy I am and how well I’m doing – how much the girl below me is enjoying herself as I screw her brains out.

Nails clawing at my back and tearing the skin.

The woman’s whimpers to go harder.

A gunshot and blood.

She’s dead, and Bernadette wants me to keep going, but I can’t.

Stacey’s voice pulls me from my spiral. “What are you waiting for?”

My fingers aren’t moving inside her.

Fuck, did I space out?

I swallow. “Seems I need to gain some courage to be inside you again.”

She tenses all over as I begin thrusting my fingers in and out once more, hammering into her as I grip her shoulder and shove her face back into the pillow.

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