Page 52 of Spitfire

Relationship. Am I even in a relationship with Scarlett Lyssa? I haven't even seen her in person since she came out of surgery. I refuse to have to share a room with Xavier, knowing full well that it will lead to violence. I stare back down at my screen, grimacing at the sight of Xavier washing dishes. How fucking domesticated of him. I flip through the various cameras I hid and finally spot Scarlett.

She's standing in her bathroom at the counter, the door closed behind her, gazing at herself in the mirror with an expression I can't read. Dark purple stains mar the space below her eyes, her skin looks even paler than usual, and I can tell she's lost weight. She reaches forward, turning on the water to wash her face, as one of her hands rises and clutches her side. Fuck, she's still in pain. Why the hell did the hospital discharge her?

"Douglas, get me the number of the surgeon who operated on Agent Lyssa!" I growl, and watch as poor Douglas almost spills his coffee in a haste to get back to his desk.

I bring the screen closer and realize she's speaking out loud. Is she talking to herself? I quickly place an earbud in one ear and raise the volume to the max, so I can hear her. Yeah, yeah, I know what I'm doing is a huge invasion of her privacy, but I don't give a fuck. My little vixen is mine until I say otherwise, and at this point, I'll be six feet under before that ever happens.

"He means well, he's just, fuck... it's all too much." Is she talking about Xavier? God, I fucking hope so. In fact, if she says out loud that she wants him out of there, my ass will be speeding to her house and physically removing him at gunpoint. "No, you can't slice him open. Be reasonable. He just wants to help."

Slice him open? Did I hear that correctly? Did she hit her head at some point? None of what she's saying is really making any sense. "Yeah, I'm fucking mad at Jasper too. He didn't ghost us... Hell, I don't know if he did or not. None of what's happening is making sense. We both know he's hiding from me, and not working on the case."

Naw, little vixen, I would never leave you. I'm biding my time, and trying to figure out a way to get him out of the picture, so I can have you all to myself, and I am working on the case. On the very real possibility that Xavier Poine is, in fact, Ashmaker, and while he's been busy doting on my Scarlett in the hospital, no new murders have been committed. Everything is pointing in that direction, from all his lies, everything he's done to cover up his past, and even his connection to Scarlett, whom Ashmaker was leaving clues for. It has to be that psychopath, but what I haven't been able to determine is who the accomplice is.

Either way, Scarlett is not safe, and I have to get her away from Xavier and protect her, but I need proof. So far, other than a few coincidences, there isn't much, and I know Scarlett will blame jealousy as my motive to sever their ties. Xavier's playing some sick game with her, maybe even infatuated with something that happened when they were kids. He seems stable at the moment, but I'm guessing that's a mask he wears well, and anything could trigger him. No one commits the type of brutality and violence he has inflicted on his victims and is sane.

Why kill men? Was Xavier abused as a child in the foster system, and is now seeking vengeance on pedophiles and rapists? I have to find the missing pieces. There's something important I'm not seeing. Something that will help me convince Scarlett that Xavier is dangerous.

"Douglas, pull up the information collected at the last crime scene, and get me a copy of the tape from the bike shop." I rub my tired eyes as I glance once more at Scarlett on the small screen, as she changes into a set of pajamas, and crawls under her sheets. God, I wish I could go there, wrap my arms around her, and reassure her that everything is going to be alright.

A shadow crosses into the screen, and my jaw clenches so tightly that I hear a creak, as I realize it's Xavier, stripping off his shirt while he assesses Scarlett. His pale skin is almost luminescent, just his full sleeves of dark tattoos breaking up all that white flesh. I bring the screen closer as he moves into the center of the room, and I can see something on his back, but the video clarity isn't precise enough to hone in on it. The glow from Scarlett's nightstand lamp makes his hair appear pure white, giving him an otherworldly feel, as if he stepped right out of a fantasy novel.

I watch with annoyance as he strips down to his boxers, and pulls the sheet back on the other side of the bed, Scarlett's dark eyes tracking his every movement, and desire unrepentantly on her features. She bites down on her bottom lip as he reaches for her, pulls the pajama top off, and then strips her of her bottoms, leaving her bare, except for a pair of skimpy pink panties. My throat goes utterly dry at how beautiful she is. Her alabaster flesh glows, and all of her dark hair is spread against her white sheets in a dramatic contrast.

The white bandage on her side is her only blemish, but even with it, she's perfection. My teeth clench so hard I fear they'll crack, as Xavier reaches out with a long finger, and traces it while staring right into her eyes. He leans forward and kisses the bandage tenderly, before moving to her collarbone and nibbling. He licks her neck before dragging his lips down the center of her chest as his hand kneads at her breast, then takes her hard nipple into his mouth. I watch mesmerized as her head tips back, her lips opening in a gasp, as he plays with her other nipple, pinching and twisting it until it's a sharp, little point.

I can feel my cock hardening and straining against my pant zipper. I know I should stop watching, especially because of where I am in a room full of other FBI agents, but I can't force my glance away. Xavier switches his mouth to her other breast, laving it and sucking hard on the peak, all the while little whimpers are escaping Scarlett, and filling my ear. One of her hands is fisted in the sheets, the other deep in Xavier's hair as she strains against his mouth, and her legs widen so that I can see the wet spot clearly on her panties.

Xavier rises on the bed, his feet planted far apart, heels dug in on the surface of the plush mattress, the sheet pulling tight and tilting inward toward the center, as his cock tents his boxers. Scarlett licks her lips and reaches forward until she slips her fingers into his waistband, and pulls them down. He steps out of them, standing completely naked before her, his cock long and curved, bouncing against his belly button, metal glinting off his shaft, as her eyes darken with lust. Jesus fuck, he's hung like a horse.

I'm not a small guy by any means, but Xavier is definitely longer, and with all those metal barbells, I can only imagine how he makes my little vixen scream. Scarlett shifts herself until her back is pressed against her pillows and headboard, as Xavier straddles her sitting body, his cock almost in line with her face. I release a groan I can't quite contain, lust racing up my body, as Scarlett licks his engorged, purple crown. "You alright over there, Agent Garnier?" Douglas questions with concern, and I can't even respond, for fear another groan will slip out.

I clench the phone in my hand, rise, and walk out of the space, fully cognizant that my dick is trying to punch a hole through my zipper, and without my suit jacket, there's very little I can do to disguise it. I make it as far as the men's room, locking myself in a stall, ripping my zipper open and pulling out my hard, leaking cock. I bring the phone close to my face, as I watch Scarlett take Xavier's cock down her throat over and over. Her pretty head bobbing up and down, as his fingers fist her strands, forcing her to take him deep, until she's choking and gagging on him.

I twist and thrust into my palm, squeezing my cock for dear life, as Xavier forces Scarlett to take him so deep that I can hear her clearly wheezing for air. His asscheeks clench as her fingernails rip into the back of his thighs, leaving trickles of crimson blood sliding down his pale legs. "That's it, Spitfire, take all of me, swallow me down like the perfect whore you are."

My hand works furiously against my length. I can feel the stirrings of my orgasm tingling along my spine as the hairs on my arms and legs rise. Xavier pulls back, and Scarlett gasps loudly, saliva covering her lips and chin, and tears racing from the corner of her eyes. She's beautiful. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen in the throes of passion.

Xavier moves so his testicles are pressing against her chin, as he slaps his cock on her face. Her tongue darts out, licking at his base and making him moan. His head tips back in pleasure, his back straining, as Scarlett sucks one testicle and then the other, her hands massaging his asscheeks as he jerks himself off over her face. "Does my pretty slut want to swallow my cum, or does she want me to paint her face with it?"

Her lower body writhes on the bed, her legs moving restlessly, trying to find some friction to get her off. Fuck, if I were there, I would be eating her pussy with pleasure, swallowing down each and every drop of nectar like a starving man.

"Fill my throat," Scarlett murmurs seductively, and Xavier quickly silences her with his cock. This time he doesn't allow her to bob up and down, instead, he holds her firmly, one hand fisted in her hair at the top of her head, and the other wrapped mercilessly around her throat, as he thrusts brutally down her throat and fucks her face like a man possessed.

“That’s it, pretty girl, take all of me.” The gulping and choking sounds Scarlett's making are my undoing, my own breathing ratcheting up until I can't catch my breath. “Fuck, Spitfire, your mouth feels amazing on my cock, you’re taking me so deep.”

My toes curl in my shoes with pleasure, and I bite down hard on my lip in an attempt to ward off my orgasm. Some part of me wants to come when he does, as if somehow he's an extension of me, and I'm the one filling Scarlett's throat. I squeeze my crown, beads of precum dripping down my length. One of Scarlett's hands disappears from Xavier's asscheeks and reappears between her legs, frantically rubbing at her clit, before she pushes the material of her panties aside, and slams two fingers inside of her soaked pussy. Fuck, I'm not going to last.

My body begins to tremble, the orgasm refusing to be held back any further as Scarlett's body bows, her legs pushing against the mattress, and Xavier releases a roar as he cums down her delicate throat. My cum shoots out, painting the wall of the stall in thick, creamy rivulets as I lean my head against the cool metal, and try to stop my heart from wanting to rip out of my chest. He releases his hold on her neck as she struggles to catch her breath, his semen slipping from her lips. "Naughty minx, I was going to make you come next."

A chuckle escapes Scarlett as she licks at her lips, determined to swallow every drop of cum. "Too... late."

Xavier bends down, caressing her face gently, and kisses her, licking at her lips and mouth, and I'm instantly jealous that he gets to taste himself on them. He breaks the kiss and hops off the bed, a lascivious grin across his mouth. His blue-gray eyes stare right at where the camera is placed in Scarlett's room, as if he knew it was there the whole time, but that's not possible. I was fucking careful placing them.

He tilts his head, stroking his still hard cock, and blows a kiss. "Hope you enjoyed the show. It's our bedtime now. My Spitfire needs rest."

The next thing I know, the screen goes black, and the camera is offline. MOTHERFUCKER! I'm going to kill that guy.

FORTY-ONE