Page 65 of Slaying for Santa
“Stop,” I whisper as tears pool in my eyes, but Kit shakes his head.
“I’ll never stop reminding you that you are worth it.”
“I’m a killer,” I hiss through clenched teeth, feeling the burn of frustration at him dismissing the ugly parts of me.
“So am I,” he presses his forehead to mine. “That’s one of the reasons we are perfect for each other.”
I snort. “You should be worried that I’ll killyou, since you said I could if you get clingy.”
“Nope.” He nips at my lips while grinding his hard cock against my panties. “You won’t kill me. You’re just as addicted to this thing between us as I am. But fuck, I’d love to watch you do it.”
He’s right. I am addicted to this, and I’d never been interested in anyone getting clingy until now.
Until him.
Reaching between us, he frees his cock before hooking the fabric of my panties aside, and the moment the fat head of hisdick presses against my folds, I part my legs wider, nearly forgetting what we are even talking about.
“You want to watch?” I ask breathlessly, surging up to urge his cock to enter me, and he teases my entrance, nudging the tip in a little.
“Fuck yeah. I wanna see how you seduce your prey, and then kill them.” He pushes his hips forward, easing his tip in a little further. “I bet they don’t even see it coming.”
I moan as I grind against him, desperate to swallow his dick, my hands slapping to his ginger facial hair as my frustration sends me wild.
“They don’t, which is why you should be scared, Kit. Because when you least expect it, I might just kill you.”
He surges in then, both of us arching towards each other as the blissful pleasure our bodies make takes over.
There’s no foreplay for this fuck, other than the words we shared, and if I let myself think about this too much, I might think we were doing that cringy thing people call making love.
We are making something alright, and while love on some level might be involved, what we are making is each other high.
“Fuuuck, Bell,” Kit rasps, before leaning down to nip at my lips. “I’ll never get enough of your cunt.”
I whimper-moan at his words, losing myself to the feeling of being stretched by his dick while the bend in it hits me so fucking deep there’s a flicker of pain. We surge towards one another, thrust after thrust, pounding, slapping, grunting with a feverous wildness that has my fingernails digging into his back until the warmth of his blood coats the tips, and we are crying out as we explode into our climax together.
There’s just something about rippling around a cock while it thrusts inside you relentlessly.
Actually, scratch that. It can’t be just any cock. It has to be Kit’s.
Shit. It really is this man that is bringing me undone.
Teenage me would never have thought it possible.
What a silly bitch.
“Fuck, Bell.” Kit pants, his weight heavy as he collapses on top of me. “I think the whole fucking house heard us.”
I smile up at him in his dishevelled state, his auburn hair a mess, probably matching mine.
“Please tell me Libi isn’t down the hall in her bedroom.”
Kit shakes his head. “Nah. She’s waiting for you in the living room. She has something to show you.”
My brows shoot up. “She does?” I ask, shoving at his chest, but he doesn’t move off me.
“She can wait.” He nips at my lips again. “I needed to make sure you were feeling okay first.”
“With your dick?” I snicker, and he chuckles, thrusting forward, which only makes his cum start to leak out around his cock.
