Page 20 of Dead Man's Wish
So much destruction.
Nine
July 30, 2025
Jaiden Wells
The sun dippedin the sky. It was late, but summer meant longer days. I looked at my watch, waiting for Bex to leave her office. We took the afternoon off yesterday, and today she was determined to set up her own murder board for the case. I pulled the vape from my pocket, needing the rush of nicotine to overwhelm the anxiety creeping in.
I exhaled, and the vapor swirled around me. The buzz started in my head, and I relaxed into my office chair. She’d never leave that room if she’d latched onto a project. I’d had to physically remove her on more than one occasion.
A naughty thought nudged me as I turned my chair around and exhaled more vapor.
I stood and headed out of the room and down the hall. She wasn’t far; I was too needy for that. It was a little inside joke that had started after the shooting. We moved to a new place the next year, and we spent every moment we could’ve lost that day together. Healthy? Not sure and haven’t cared to work on that.
Her door was ajar, but with my quiet steps, she didn’t notice my arrival. She said I used to jingle with the chains and metal pieces that decorated the pants I wore. At times, I was certain she missed that stage of our lives. Other times, well . . .
I adjusted my tie and pushed the door open wider. She was bent over her desk and shuffling around papers and photos. Since she walked out of the closet this morning, I’d been in an endless state of torture over that pencil skirt. My eyes trailed down the line of her legs and stopped on the garnet-red heels.
I stepped across the rug, but with no sound still, she didn’t stop. She leaned her thighs into the edge of the desk and it squeaked. Bex rested her hands on the surface, and her head swiveled as she scanned the mess. I stood over her and placed my hands outside of hers, trapping her beneath me.
Her breath hitched on a startled gasp. She straightened until her backside bumped into me.
“Mrs. Wells,” I whispered beside her. In my peripheral, I saw her parted mouth and wide eyes. They were fixated on the space in front of us.
The mirror.
Her eyes locked on my reflection. I smiled, showing all my teeth and piercing, a hungry grin that’d be satiated with an easy hunt. The ring of icy blue thinned as her pupils dilated. I turned this time so she could watch my profile as I spoke.
“You worked so hard today, pretty baby.” I circled my right hand around her wrist, and with my left, I traced up the back of her thighs and under her skirt. “Do you need a break? I can clear your plate.”
“Yes,” she whispered. There was a shallow inhale as my hand moved between her legs.
“Spread them,” I instructed. Her cheek blushed, and I pressed a soft kiss against it. Holding her skirt, I pulled it up over the curve of her ass as she stepped to the side. “Do you want me to take it away?”
“Yes,” she begged. Her thighs twitched under my touch. I stood and used my free hand to swipe the papers and photos off her desk. She didn’t protest at the sight as they drifted through the air and onto the floor. Her hair was pinned, and it was witchcraft how she managed to contain her thick, curly strands in a tight, French chignon. Very beautiful and sleek, but it was too proper for the way I intended to fuck her.
I pulled the little clip holding it in place, and her hair unfurled and floated between us. Long strands draped over her shoulder. I pushed down in the middle of her back until she was flat against the table and her hair fanned around her. Hooking a finger in the lace band of her thong, I slid it down her thighs.
“Little Swallow,” I teased. Bex’s energy shifted, and her hand flexed in mine as she grew desperate. Pinning her arm to her side, I dropped to my knees behind her. Somehow more toned yet softer than ever, her ass was a fucking delight. I gripped under it and parted her thighs more before running my tongue through her center.
Bex was the only thing I wanted to taste for the rest of my life, always so wet. My tongue swirled through her slick arousal as I worked an orgasm to the surface. She bucked as I swept over her clit. I released her ass cheek and draped my heavy arm over her back.
“Please!” she cried. Her thighs twitched, but I didn’t release my hold or slow down. My want for her on my tongue was pure selfishness. I released her wrist and pushed two fingers inside.
With heavy breaths, I rested my head against her backside—willing to be taken out of this world by Bex. Begs and pleas left her mouth as I added a finger and pumped harder. She was so tight; foreplay was nevernotan option for us.
“Oh, fuck!” she yelled, and I felt her tighten around me, but before I could go back down, she flooded my hand and it dripped down her thighs.
“Oh, yeah?” I mused. “This early?” Quickening the pace, I didn’t let her catch a break as I rolled her into another orgasm.
“No, no, no, no—”
Her body jerked again.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I encouraged as she came. Her pussy spasmed as more of her release covered me, her, and the floor. “Such a good girl.”
I stood and undid my belt, sliding the zipper down and freeing my cock. Bex was limp and sprawled on the desk. It reminded me how much I loved ruining her crafted perfection. Her hair and clothes were a mess, but I wanted more. I needed more of the dirty, filthy beauty. I pulled her skirt to the floor.
