Page 102 of Beneath Her Skin

I turn toward her husband. Toward the livestock. Thepig.

His mouth moves like he’s trying to speak. Trying to beg, I think, but all that comes out are small, miserable noises. His good eye weeps desperation. His other weeps blood.

When I step toward him, he jerks his headno.

“You were going to do the same thing to me,” I tell him flatly, which isn’t true and we both know it. He was going to do worse.

Then I stab the blade into his neck. It goes in easier than it did his stomach, and his eye widens and he tries to thrash on the hook. Tries to escape.

“Keep going,” Judith comes up behind me, her body warm and flush against mine. “Unless you want him to suffer.”

I consider this, just for a moment. Then I jerk the knife sideways, splitting his throat open. Blood gushes out like a waterfall, streaming over his ruined torso, splattering across me and Judith both. I slump back, but she’s there to catch me.

“It’s over,” she murmurs.

I tremble against her, staring at the man who tormented me for three days. I do feel a kind of strange freedom, something I haven’t felt since Judith found me. And I know that if I pulled away from her and walked up those stairs and kept going, Judith wouldn’t stop me.

But I don’t want to.

I press against her, sighing, and she buries her nose into the crook of my neck and kisses me there, soft and hesitant. “Keep going,” I whisper.

And she does. Her kisses deepen into sharp, nipping little bites. Her hands creep up to squeeze my breasts through the thin, flimsy negligee. I moan softly, shuddering with pleasure, and Judith turns me around with a surprising strength and kisses my mouth. I slide my hand between us and push up her skirt until I can press my fingers over the silky fabric of her expensive panties. And then she’s the one shuddering with pleasure.

“Did he ever make you come?” I ask, shoving her panties aside so I can slide one finger between the soft lips of her pussy.

“No,” she gasps.

“What a piece of shit.” I push her backward until she’s pressed against the wall. For a moment, I massage her pussy, sliding my fingers in and out of her wetness. Because she isverywet.

When I find her clit, a hard little nub amongst her softness, she jerks against me and gives a soft whimpering cry. I kiss her and rub her at the same time, making her quake against me.

Then I drop to my knees in front of her. Judith stares down at me, dazed, blood still streaked across her face.

“I bet he never ate you out.”

Judith shakes her head no. Big surprise.

I push up her skirt and peel her panties away and prop her leg on my shoulder so I can admire the dark triangle of neatly-trimmed hair framing her wet, glistening pussy.

“Gloria,” she breathes, her fingers tangling up in my hair.

In response, I thrust my tongue between her cleft, making her cry out, her voice echoing through the shelter. I kiss her deeply, lapping up the wetness seeping out of her pussy—she’s so unbelievably wet, and I know it’s from the violence and the blood and I don’t care. Because she saved me. She helped me get my revenge.

I drag my tongue upward until I find the tight, throbbing nub of her clit. Judith groans, rocking her hips against my face, and I keep devouring her, stretching her thighs as wide as I can until her whole body trembles.

“Come for me,” I breathe against her cunt, working a finger inside to stroke her walls. She keens and bucks, her thighs trembling. “You deserve it.”

She gasps breathlessly and grinds her pussy down on my face, and I respond in kind, swiping my tongue between her folds and over her clit. I’m half-aware that I’m touching myself through the thin fabric of the negligee, my pussy slicked with her husband’s blood.

Judith’s hand pulls tight on my hair, her cries more desperate. She needs a little push, I realize, and so I scrape my teeth gently over her clit?—

That’s all it takes. Judith screams and fucks my face, her hips rolling with the frantic pulses of her orgasm. I keep licking her through it, my face smeared with her arousal, my fingers flying over my clit.

When she’s done, she slumps against the wall. I sit back on my heels and peer up at her, flushed and gorgeous in her aftermath, and keep touching myself, slow and teasing. Judith drops her gaze to watch me, her breath deep and shuddery.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says shyly.

“You didn’t have to help me.” The concrete is cold on my ass, and the drying blood makes the negligee stick to my skin. But I keep rubbing my clit, and Judith keeps watching me, her lip caught between her teeth. “Besides,” I say, the words coming out jagged. “I wanted to.”

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