DESI
My tongue slidbetween her lips, searching for hers. Scout moaned softly, and slowly, I could feel her resolve melting underneath me.
“No.” She sighed but continued kissing me. I let go of her wrist and squeezed the knife I now held in my hand, putting it to her throat. I pulled away to stare down at her. My adrenaline was shot as her breathing accelerated. The silver blade was so enthralling against her tan skin.
“You aren’t going to tell anyone about what I did, are you?” I whispered.
Her eyes flickered to my hand and then back up to me. The look in her dark eyes was different than before. She wasn’t afraid of me.
“What if I do?”
My cock stirred in my jeans. What was she doing to me?
“Are you going to slit my throat, too?”
“I didn’t slice him.” I pressed the knife deeper into her pretty little throat. “I shot him in the temple.” I let go of the knife, leaving it on her chest. My lips found hers again, and I dropped her other wrist in favor of exploring her body.
“You didn’t answer me.” She gasped as I trailed kisses down her neck. One hand palmed her breast, while the other cupped her mound and rolled in massaging circles. She squirmed under my touch.
“What? Do you want me to shut you up?” I slid my hand down her chest, tracing her curves. I slipped under her shirt and pulled her bra down. My fingers found her nipple and pinched it. “Or do you want me to make you scream?”
Where was this sexual prowess before?
“I shouldn’t like you as much as I do,” she panted. I sat and pulled her with me. The knife fell onto her lap. We both reached for it, but I was faster. I held it up, pointed the tip at her, and shot her a look. I pressed it under her chin and pushed up, raising her head.
“But you do like me, don’t you?” I moved the knife lower, reaching for her collar with my other hand. I nipped the fabric and sliced down her shirt. The kitchen knife wasn’t the best tool for the job, but I didn’t falter. I made a large cut, letting the tip trace her skin underneath as I did so, and then tore the rest of it, pulling the clothing down her shoulders.
“You know what I’m capable of, and yet, you still have me here.” I unclasped her bra. I stared down at her beautiful body. My cock pulsed against my zipper. It was painful, but I wanted to savor her. I pushed her back down on her pillows, then I dropped my head to her chest and ran my tongue across her beautiful brown nipple.
“Why is that?” I asked her. “If you’re so scared of me, why are you letting me touch you?”
She moaned as I palmed her other breast while tugging her nipple between my teeth.
“I don’t know,” she gasped. I pushed her legs apart and positioned my hips against her.
“Don’t know what?”
“Why…” She sighed. Her hands found my belt, and she fumbled with it, causing me to groan. I needed to be inside her.
“Well, you better figure it out soon,” I said, brushing her hands away just as she undid my belt. I pulled it out of the loops and removed it. Her gaze flickered to it and then back to the button on my jeans. “Because I know what you want, but you don’t get it until you give me an answer.”
Her hands drifted over the fabric of my pants, finding my cock. Her touch was so unraveling.
“Tell me, Scout, how do you feel about being in love with a killer?” My heart beat furiously as I clocked her reaction. She was breathing heavily, her breasts rising and falling. I reached up and played with them. “Does it give you chills, thinking about the hands that give you such pleasure could cause so much pain?” My mouth dipped to her navel, stopping at her shorts. I unbuttoned them, and she raised her hips, giving me permission to slide both her panties and shorts down and off her.
I kissed all the way down as I tugged them off and then returned to the apex of her thighs. She was smooth and wet and completely bare for me. I spread her pussy open and slid a finger inside.
“I don’t want that. I want you.”
“Well, you don’t get me until you explain why you want me so bad, knowing that I’ve killed a man and wore you like a Muppet while his body was in my trunk.” I moved in and out of her body, one finger turning into two.
“I don’t care about that,” she panted. “You won’t hurt me.”
“How are you so sure?” I asked, pressing deeply into her and hooking her G-spot.
“Because I think if I die, you would too.” She confessed.
Bingo.
