“Want me to make you come while we’re waiting for him to wake up?” I rasp next to her turned cheek, seeing them lift as she smiles.
“I’d love that, but I don’t have another suit to put on.”
She’s talking about the latex, so I shrug, gripping her hips and spinning her to face me.
“Nothing wrong with a good old-fashioned dry hump.”
Her brows shoot up before her face morphs into a wicked grin.
“You’re right, there isn’t.”
That’s all the consent I need before my lips are clashing with hers, and I blindly walk her off to the side where an old table sits with empty beer cans on top.
When I break the kiss, I swipe away the cans, and she dropsher knife before clawing my bare shoulders, lifting herself up onto the table.
I’m on her the next second, both of us wearing black latex gloves as we practically grapple each other, her legs wrapping around the latex pants she acquired for me.
The moment my hard cock grinds against her needy cunt, we moan into each other’s mouths as we kiss with fervour, humping each other with desperate need.
Lily’s hands come down to claw at my arse as I grind her into the tabletop, our panting breaths filling the space.
When fuckhead tied to the chair groans, I swear Lily’s pace picks up, her ravenous need going to a new height.
“Come for me,” I demand after breaking the kiss, and she growls and nips at my lips, drawing fucking blood.
“Fuck, Angel. Sink those teeth into me!” I practically yell, and she does, moving to my shoulder and sinking her teeth right in.
Our grinding turns frenzied, Lily’s cries falling past her lips where her teeth are still deep in my skin, and the moment she starts screaming with her own climax, mine hits, cum jetting from my cock in a wet sticky mess inside my pants.
But fuck, it’s worth it.
As we fall into a slump on top of the table, I pepper gentle kisses on Lily’s cheek before pushing up to look down at her.
“Did that help to release some of the tension?” I ask, and she nods, a lazy grin tugging at her lips.
“You take such good care of me, Asher Scott.”
Fuuuck. That makes me feel like pounding my chest like King fucking Kong.
“Fucktard is starting to wake up.” I gesture my head in the direction of her captive. “Let’s finish him off and go and surprise your uncle.”
Her smirk turns sinister as she nods, and I climb off her, helping her down from the table.
Taking the bottle of water we have with us, I move to the unconscious fuck, and tip it over his head, snickering as he gasps awake.
“Wakey wakey,” I sing-song in his ear, and he stiffens, blinking at my Angel as she approaches him again, her cheeksflushed from her orgasm, and that big fucking blade twirling in her hand.
“No, arsehole, it wasn’t a nightmare,” she sneers at him. “You’re still here with me.”
“W-who a-are y-you?” he sobs, like he knows this is the day he’s going to die.
As Lily lurches forward, the stupid fucker tries to push himself deeper into the chair, as if that will somehow help him get away from her.
She stabs her knife into his side, and his screams bounce off the blood splattered walls, care of the little flicks Lily does each time she pulls her blade out like she’s creating a masterpiece.
“You probably don’t know me,” she sneers in his face as she wipes the bloodied blade across the skin of his cheek. “But in some parts of the world, I’m known as the Crimson Angel.”
The guy whimpers before his frantic gaze flicks to me as I round him, his eyes pleading like I’ll help him.
