Page 124 of Filthy Love

It was. Pure. Unadulterated. Sex.

He railed his little bit with about as much finesse as a bull in a china shop.

He fucked her through a second orgasm and pulled his dripping length free of the heaven he wanted to die inside of. Hard and wet, he grabbed his dick at the base, watched her eyes cloudy and full of lust as she leaned into the wall panting. It was a strong, dizzying feeling to know he’d put that fulfilled look in her eyes, he was the one who made her scream his name and her goddamn too-tight pussy to shake around him.

Now he wanted something filthier.

What the fuck, he was a monster, right?

Monsters liked dirty things.

Monsters liked owning pretty things and little girls who should know better who they let in their doors.

“Lift up your shirt,” he hissed through his teeth and didn’t she just smile at him and reveal her perfect tits. Fuck, she killed him. “Gonna come on those pretty, good-girl tits.” He told her stroking it out.

She gave him saucy words of encouragement but all he heard was white static.

He exploded at the seams, at the nuts and bolts of his body, spilling and spilling until he dripped onto the clean floor and all over Gia’s flawlessness. Her tits glistened, two fucking perfectly plump snow-capped mountains.

His come dribbled down her belly, gathered on her pussy and with the flat of her hand she undid all his rage by rubbing it in and mewled like a cat in heat.

Nothing had ever felt so good as feeling Gia come apart for him, he’d go to his miserable grave knowing how constricted she squeezed that pussy.

Nor the way she smiled all the way through him cleaning her up.

And later when he tucked her into bed and kissed her forehead even though she was already dead to the world he sat a while and watched her, his predator habits hard to break. She murmured his name in her sleep, and he recalled the way she’d declared she loved him.

Loving a deviant would only bring her heartache.

He was a fucking fool for messing with her, but now he was trapped.

He loved the little bit of a thing more than he could ever love anyone.

He wanted a future with her. At least another day, another week.

He would make ten more minutes last him a lifetime.

She made him be not so …himself.

And no fucking shadows from his cracks were gonna ruin that.

He kissed her again, inhaling her scent and left quietly.

From his experience, bad blood was not only difficult to wash, it was next to impossible. Once it soaked down to the soul, in that place that should always remain untouched, the stain was set.

It was the dead of night, just when deviants like him functioned best.

He was cash rich, and ethically poor for how he earned that money, but it meant nothing if he couldn’t grab a few good moments with Gia before his life all went to shit.

Within the hour he’d overnighted a package full of money that equalled to ten grand.

He sent it to Nebraska in hopes it would keep them quiet for another six months.

He could have a good six months with Gia.

Soak every sweet drop of her in, take her down to his soul.

Be happy.

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