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She makes a strangled, angry, sort of sound. Somewhere between outraged and indignant and I have to laugh at how right Baxter was. Does she give a fuck that she’s hours if not minutes away from death? No. The only thing she cares about is the fact we’re about to fuck like rabbits in her vicinity. Sans condom too. Oh the horror!
I spread my legs wide, my not so white dress bunched up around my waist, and Baxter stares at me like I’m an ice lolly on the hottest day on record.
“Wait!” I cry out as he reaches for me.
“What?”
“Cut out her tongue. I don’t want to hear her.”
“She’ll still be able to make noise,” Baxter chuckles. “It’s something of a myth. But she won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Well one, because it hurts like hell. And two, because I’ll kill her if she dares make a sound.” He glares at her and she actually looks cowed for once. “Anyway, I can’t cut her tongue out yet, but I will. I still need to have a little chat with her.”
“Okay, carry on then.”
He grabs his blade, the one that I suspect has become his favourite since I stabbed him with it, and he kisses it to the inside of my thigh.
Our ritual.
The pressure builds until the skin yields and the relief of Baxter claiming another of my scars as his own almost makes me come undone.
He lowers his head to kiss the cut he’s made but I stop him.
“No time,” I hiss. “I need you, now.”
He shrugs, drops the blade safely away from Cordelia and unzips his pants. He pulls out his cock, already rock hard and glistening with arousal, and lines himself up at my entrance. The bench is the perfect height for fucking people up and for fucking me. He really does think of everything.
He enters me in one thrust and I cry out at the relief he brings me, my greedy muscles already clamping down around him, begging for a quick release. He doesn’t disappoint. With his thumb on my clit, he pistons his hips back and forth, rubbing the nub in time to his frantic movements. I have to cling on for dear life, back arched and animalistic grunts falling from my lips. I can’t help it, I don’t want to control it. It feels damn good and it sounds like exactly what it is. Baxter Branson fucks like a wild fucking animal and I wouldn’t have him any other way.
He pinches my thigh, right where he cut me and I scream my release louder than any tortured shriek he elicited from Cordelia. He grins and watches me thrash through my orgasm, not letting up on the pace or the pinch, and I quickly feel my orgasm roll into two. I’m a sweaty, panting mess as I beg him to fill me.
He bites my earlobe as he curses his own release, his cock pumping and twitching until he’s spent. Forehead to forehead we rest for a moment to recover, and before he even pulls out of me, he grabs a knife and plunges it into Cordelia’s abdomen. She screams.
“Ah shit, I better cauterise that. Don’t want her bleeding out before we’ve had all our fun with her, do we?” He sighs and shakes his head, giving me the impression that this particular move wasn’t planned. I feel a flush of pride; I made Baxter Branson lose control.
“Sorry, babe,” he says, withdrawing. I wince. “There’s a bathroom through there if you wanna get cleaned up.”
I hop down from the table and remove my dress where I stand, letting it fall to the floor. That dress might be beyond all help when it comes to laundry. Baxter’s gaze heats all over again.
“Down boy, you have a job to do. Rewards come after.”
“What was that then?”
“Incentive to finish the job.”
“Fuck! If that was an incentive, I can’t wait for my reward.”
“Focus.” I laugh and head for the shower, quickly cleaning up. The facilities down here are practical and functional, a far cry from the lovely bathroom upstairs. I don’t waste any time; I don’t want to miss anything good.
Done, I head back into the kill room where Baxter’s already back at it, working hard to earn his reward. I catch his eye and smile. He blows me a bloody kiss.
A yawn escapes me – I can’t help it, I’m always sleepy after orgasms that good – and Baxter instantly downs tools to come over to me. Well, when I say puts down his tools, I mean he leaves the burning blow torch on the bench, touching Cordelia’s palm, and he places the knife he was just heating up back in her abdomen for safe keeping.
I laugh. I love it. This. Him.
“Go to bed. I won’t be long now. Just need to have that little chat.”
