Page 88 of House of Deceit

“He took care of the recordings. He told me.”

“You sure about that? That’s a lot of trust in someone that didn’t tell you about his job interview.”

“He told me about it. Why wouldn’t he? I’m sure he’ll get it,” I lie, sure he’s trying to get under my skin.

He studies me and the smile he gives is more predator showing his teeth. “You’re a terrible liar.”

My insides are jelly. I try to shift my weight to one leg, readying myself to knee him in the groin as hard as I can.

“I wouldn’t be so trusting of everything he says if I were you. His goal is to get you to win. What would he tell you to get you there? Or maybe, what wouldn’t he?”

He stalks from the room and I slide down to the floor. Tears gather in my eyes for the second time today as adrenaline makes me shake.

The motel’s parking lot is empty when I’m dropped off. With eyes like sandpaper from lack of sleep, I flip on the bedside table lamp, a 1970s orange and brown monstrosity. Most nights I have been staying at the mansion far longer than normal seasons, watching Charlie on the live feed until she goes to sleep.

Books sit by the door of my room, reminding me I need to take them back to the mansion. As Charlie tears through them, she has taken to giving me her favorites so I can read them as well. Unsure if it’s allowed, I’ve been keeping them squirreled away from my office until I can finish them.

Lacking any sort of standout amenities, the one thing this motel has is shower pressure. The jet stream of water power-washes my skin, as I wash the previous day from my body.

It has been a few days since Charlie’s and my time in the library. As the sounds of her moans and the taste of her come to mind, I harden. While I’ve had good sex before, with Charlie, it was better than anything before it. Unlike my other partners, I was able to read her so well.

Her responsiveness was as addicting as the deep, guttural moans she released as she came on my cock.

Knowing I won’t be able to focus all day with a raging hard-on, I take matters into my own hands. Closing my eyes, I picture what it would be like to have Charlie in my bedroom with me.

On her knees, bathed in the soft lighting of the room, her pale skin glows. Her breasts are heavy and beg for my mouth, which I’ll give her, but not yet.

Beautiful deep blue eyes look at me as I tilt her chin up. Need, deep and unrelenting, is in her eyes. For me. For what I can give her.

“Open,” I say, my voice already husky with lust.

She follows instructions so well, my good girl. Lining up my hips with her mouth, I grab her hair and thrust in until she gags, pulling a moan from my throat. Easing back, I let her recover, but not for long.

Her mouth is warm, wet. Perfect.

“Suck my cock,” I moan as she swirls her tongue around my length before flicking the underside of the head.

Her smart mouth is talented as I begin to thrust, shallowly at first. Cheeks hollowing, she sucks me with the perfect pressure as I withdraw.

She drives me wild as my hands find her hair, guiding her bobbing head into the perfect rhythm. Grabbing onto the back of my thighs, she relaxes, letting me use her for my pleasure.

Grunting, I thrust over and over.

“That’s right, baby. You’re so good at this. You’re perfect.”

She looks up at me from her knees and I’m only a few moments away from coming.

“Do you want me to come down your throat? Are you going to drink me down like the good girl you are?” I ask.

She nods and I feel my orgasm climb. Grunting as I keep moving, one of her hands moves to my balls, fondling them. As with her mouth, her movements have the perfect amount of pressure and before I know it, I’m coming so hard, I see stars.

My orgasm splashes against the shower wall as I call out for Charlie, wishing she was really here, her name on my tongue every morning since week five when she invaded my brain for the first time as I pleasured myself.

Breathing heavily, I finish my shower before turning off the water, feeling spent but invigorated. I can hardly wait until Charlie wins this whole thing so I can truly have my way with her every morning.

Running behind, I throw clothes on, thankful for my unofficial uniform.

A car idles for me outside as I pull the door closed behind me, tucking my key into a pocket on my backpack.

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