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“Shut the fuck up,” she sniped in my ear.
I choked back the moan.
Sensing I was getting ready to grip her waist, she said, “Do not fucking touch me, Mr. Dymon.”
My hands fell flat to the bed.
She rocked herself down the length of my dick slowly. “You gonna marry this pussy, Mr. Dymon?”
“I’ll do anything…anything you want, Princess. Anything.”
“Cum deep in me?”
“You feel it, Princess? You feel it.”
She rocked my throbbing head inside of her, sending me to another dimension, wishing we were home so I could verbally let her know what she was doing to me. The only thing I could do was grip the sheets so hard that my knuckles cracked.
She ran her tongue down the vein in my neck. “That’s right, Mr. Dymon. Nut in me. This your good pussy. Only yours. Forever yours.”
It was becoming harder to keep it together. She knew it, and she continued to rock my dick inside of her.
“Oo, you done.”
My heart was beating too fast to talk.
She leaned forward, letting my dick slip out of her. “Goodnight, Mr. Dymon.”
I nodded my head because she’d stolen the breath out of my body. Just like she’d said earlier, the coroner was going to have to pry her cold, dead body from my hands to leave her alone.
