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“Fuck.”
I began pumping her with a steady rhythm, feeling the heat and electricity rising between us. Every stroke was molten fire. Every time I bottomed out, her cries seemed to rise in pitch and volume.
“Oh, FUCK… Oh shit… Oh… Oh….”
She was swearing and cursing. Screwing her eyes shut, while throwing her hair wildly from side to side. Her shadowed face was a mask of concentration… and what looked to be raw, unchecked lust. I kept her body pressed tightly against mine. My hands locked into the curve of her waist as she ground her ass hard, burying me even deeper.
It wasn’t the plan. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this.
But it was going down like this anyway.
Somehow in all the craziness we finished at the same time. I felt her body go tight, squeezing me from the inside as she was rocked with the stark-white euphoria of an earth-sha
ttering climax. The visual of seeing her lose herself took the last of my resolve. I lost all control, my cock throbbing and pulsing as it went off, somewhere deep in her womb.
FUUUUCK!
My orgasm was never ending. It poured out of me in desperate waves, filling her pussy to overflowing with my hot, sticky seed. We collapsed forward together, heaving and out of breath. I rolled to one side as she wriggled forward, still moving, still twisting…
Still crawling across the bed.
I never even noticed her arm shoot through the gap between the mattress and the headboard. It came back in a lightning fast arc, bringing the deadly glint of a steel point directly against my neck.
Through the corner of my eye, I could just make out what it was. An ice pick, shining wickedly in the darkness. Piercing the skin, just above my pulsing, surging jugular.
I froze as her strong leg slid over mine, constricting me like a snake. The blonde hissed a single word, her sharp blue eyes flashing wildly… murderously…
“Gotcha.”
Two
ANDREA
The rage was blinding, all-consuming. I fought it back, while tightening my grip.
“Easy,” my captive said in the darkness. “I think you’ve got the—”
“My name’s Andrea,” I snarled, completely ignoring him. “Andrea Martensson.”
I waited for that sweet, sweet gasp of recognition. The exact moment he’d realize just how fucked — literally and figuratively — he actually was.
But the moment never came. The bastard never gave it to me. I’d tracked him, I’d planned for him, I’d finally found him. I’d even given my body over to him — in ways that both thrilled and disgusted me at my own, unwelcome excitement. All that sacrifice, for this one, singular moment…
It only made me angrier.
“I wanted you to know before you died, Xander,” I sneered. Even his name was poison in my mouth. “I needed you to know, before I open your throat and the darkness takes you… it was me.”
The adrenaline pumping through my body made my arm tremble. I could make out a dark rivulet of blood, now. It ran down his neck, from where the tip of the ice pick had broken the skin.
“I’m sure… that would be… important,” he gurgled. “Except that I’m… not…”
I extended my body, stretching him out. Yanking up on his head, while squeezing down with my legs. God, he was massive! So much bigger — and stronger — than I’d ever imagined.
“Except that I’m not Alexander Kyrkos.”
My surprise — if that’s what it was — lasted only a millisecond. One moment I was ready to plunge the ice pick deep into his carotid artery. The next I saw stars… as he slammed his head backward, straight into my chin.
FUCK!
