My hands ache, bruised, and calloused from last night’s work. The de-fleshing lasted all night; that fucking fat bastard was big, with the thickest layer of subcutaneous and visceral fat I’d seen in a long time. The gelatinous mess I left near my lake will provide food for the coyotes and foxes on my land for the next few weeks. Until the next shipment came in.
Looking down, I see bits of hardened fat and flesh stuck in my snake and skull ring. I pull it off and lay it on the corner of the marble sink. Forgot to wear gloves last night since I was in a rush and still pissed at what Riggs and I found. Pulling it off, I set it on the side of the fanciest sink I’ve ever seen. The whole damn house is a mansion, with glass sinks to boot.
I look around the bathroom I’m in. It’s not the guest bathroom, but the one Jace directed me to is being used. My curiosity got the better of me, and I moved through Jace’s house, silently, eager to learn more about the man. I also needed a break from watching his sister eat, licking the BBQ sauce off her finger and the corner of her mouth. Those lips pursed around her thumb, sucking the flavor into her mouth, the way they would if she collected a drop of my cum to taste it.
So I disappeared, and the moment I walked in and smelled the floral fragrance, it felt like her.Confirmation came when I opened the cabinet and found a brush with a few long black strands in the bristles. More evidence came when I picked up the bar of soap in the shower, which smelled like her, and damn it,there was a wet thong hanging around the shower head. An icy blue lacy scrap of fabric.
She washes her panties by hand.
I pictured her naked, scrubbing the fabric between her fingers, against her palm. I want to fuck her and then pull that thong back in place. I want them filthy with the cum that leaks out of her. Follow her to the bathroom and watch as she peels them down her legs. Watch as she steps into the shower. Watch her rewash them, rinsing my cum down the drain, then stare at the wet silk hanging in my shower while I fuck her one more time. Better yet, use the fabric to gag her while I pound into her.
I indulged like a fiend, bringing the lacy gusset to my face, breathing in her floral scent. I rinsed them again, running the fabric through my fingers, fascinated by the spot that would rest against her folds. Reluctantly, I put them back.
Now, I stare at them as I scrub my hands, my dick rock hard. The need to fuck is agonizing. I press against my cock, holding the edge of the sink, wanting to rut into her so badly I can taste it.
Finishing, I dry my hands on a pretty pink towel and turn to open the door, but before I can turn the knob, it opens and someone rushes in.
A soft, sweet-smelling woman bumps into me, and for a split second, I think it’s one of the women in the grotto, who snuck in to find me, but the smell hits me immediately. I recognize it. Her hands go to my chest, and mine automatically go to just above her hips, holding her trim waist in my hands. Her fingers spasm on my chest, and I wish it were my naked chest, wish her fingernails were digging into the tattoos etched into my bare skin, digging so deep they draw blood.
“Oh shit.”
I can see where her skin has burned from the sun. A faint smell of chlorine and coconut wafts around her. There’s a smallpatch of freckles on her nose. The pulse at her temple jumps beneath her skin. Her chest heaves, and just like before, my eyes are drawn to her nipples. It’s my favorite part of a woman. Yes, pussy is delicious, but nipples in your mouth? Perfection. Nipples grazing the tip of my dick. Magic. Nipples being circled with the sharp point of my knife. Unbelievable.
The size of a thumb tack, they push sharply out, projecting through the white fabric of her bikini top. They look poutier than before. I wonder if it’s because of the quiet hum of cool air circulating in the house, or me. I wonder what color they are and how they would taste. They would look beautiful with a bit of blood dripping from the tips, and taste even better. I’m salivating thinking about sipping at those blood-stained nipples.
She doesn’t try to extract herself from my hold, and I step closer, unconsciously needing just a moment to cuddle her hips to mine, feel the mound of her pussy against the fly of my jeans. My fingers caress the tied bow on her bikini bottoms. I look down and spot her tan line. The area around her pussy and ass would be tanned too, and I want to see the contrast in her skin color. I want to trace the tan lines while her legs are over my shoulders, or better yet, while she’s on her knees, thighs spread, bracing for my thrusts. She looks down too. One quick flick of my fingers and the bow would come undone. Then I’d know what her pussy looks like. I’d see if she’s bare or covered in soft crinkly hair. My tongue wouldn’t care either way.
She’s the perfect height, too. Tall enough that those sleek, long legs could easily wrap around my waist and lock, hold on while I unbuckle my jeans.
She exhales, fanning my neck. I smell the savory, spicy sweetness on her breath. She’d taste like BBQ sauce, and I know I’d enjoy the transfer of flavors on my tongue. She looks at my mouth, and I see the flare of desire, hear the telltale hitch in herbreath. I want that hitch in her lungs when I push my cock inside her.
She’s his fucking sister.The reminder intrudes, and I grind my back teeth.She’s not someone you fuck in a bathroom.
I step away from her quickly, and she stumbles. I resist the urge to reach out and bring her into my body again.
“Hi.” Sorry. I—didn’t mean to— What are you doing in here?”
Her soft, sweet voice brings me out of the fantasy of my cock deep inside her while I fuck her on her brother’s bathroom sink. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she stares at me.
“Think I’m stealing?”
“What? No! I?—”
“You what?”
“That’s not what I meant. I didn’t think you were doing anything. It’s just that um... no one really uses this bathroom and my stuff?—”
She points to the wet panties hanging over the curtain rod. The same pair I just touched and smelled.A sexy pink flush starts to form on her cheeks and travels down to the middle of her chest, between her bouncy breasts. She’s embarrassed, and I want to tell her that her wet panties are the highlight of this bathroom.
I need to get the fuck out of here. I ignore her statement because it reminds me that I don’t belong here, and I shouldn’t be touching her. I wait for her to leave, hoping my lack of conversation will help. I need her to go and take her sexy voice and delicious smells with her. “No worries, there’s not much I’d want to steal in here.”
That pretty pink blush dies, and her face pales. She’s smart enough to know it’s a dismissal, the way I need it to be. “Anything else?” I bark, curling my damp fingers into my palms, holding onto my control. She looks uncomfortable and licks her lips. Realizing I’m not going to engage, she mumbles anothersorry and walks out, closing the door with an angry snap. Good. Her anger will keep her away from me. Safe from my dark desires.
Opening the door, I walk out expecting to see her there waiting, but she’s gone. I head towards the hallway and stop when I look up and see a huge canvas. It must be eight feet long. The subject is a man, but his face is somewhat fragmented. I step closer. His face has a mixture of acrylic brushstrokes, thick and heavy, with softer, gentler strokes of watercolor. There are bits of metal in the paint. The craftsmanship is exquisite. As I move closer, I discover that there are more miniature paintings within the larger paintings. Small images. But when you step back, his face comes into focus. My fingers itch to recreate it in ink and put it on clean skin. Whoever the artist is, I commend them; that level of skill isn’t for the weak.
Leaving it behind, I walk down the steps and turn the corner. Viciously, I bite back a curse because Jace’s sister is right there, standing by the refrigerator, her ass on full display in that skimpy white bikini. A sound must escape my mouth because she spins around, staring at me again, holding a platter of fruit.
Twenty-four years old, motherfucker. You’re 20 years her senior.
