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“Yes, yes.” The desperation grew in his voice. “Please, baby.” He was so whiny as I went over the edge, working his throbbing cock. His hands left my breasts, tracing over my stomach in the dark.
Fingertips bruised my flesh as he brought me down harder on his lap. The sting of slapping flesh traversed my clit and all resolve shattered. I started to fall forward from the grips of my climax, but his hand circled my throat and pinned me in place.
“Ghost—”
“You’re not finished yet, love,” he demanded as he held my hip. The push and pull motion ignited another wave of ecstasy that I still hadn't recovered from. He snapped his hips up into me at a punishing force. I was as in control as a ragdoll. He stole another orgasm from me, but still didn't slow. I grabbed hold of his wrist and arm.
I was unbelievably wet. A sob choked out against his grip as he continued to draw the very life force from me. Coming was becoming a continuous act with no reprieve between rounds.
“I want to be inside your pussy forever.” He groaned, releasing my throat so that I fell to his body. He gasped for air as if he had been unable to breathe while he wrapped me in a perfectly fitted embrace. It felt like he was scared to let me go. When he kissed my forehead, I knew I was swimming in dangerous waters. His hand held my head to his chest while he rolled my hips over his cock.
With a few more strokes inside me, he was coming. “Bex,” he whined and whispered something unintelligible. I was spent and couldn’t regain composure. He maneuvered out of me and made a quick disposal of the condom.
His bed was so warm and cozy. The sheets smelled like warmth, a smoky embrace that was equal parts man and sin. The mattress dipped upon his return, and he brought me into his body. Gentle hands worked my soft skin, and the sex high was turning into a sleepy buzz. He continued to kiss the top of my head and nuzzle against me.
“Mm, I love the way you feel in my arms,” he confessed as he scratched his fingers along my scalp. “You belong here.” I closed my eyes as he prolonged the serene feeling.
I didn’t fall asleep, but I sat in bliss for quite some time before a knock against his door caused my eyes to pop open, shattering the fantasy I was slowly building with him.
“That’ll be Mari; I’ll grab you some clothes.” He kissed me again before taking leave. It was less hungry and more yearning. The light of a cell phone created a glow around his structured frame as he rummaged through drawers, effectively showing me everything and yet nothing at the same time. It clicked off before he turned around and pulled clothes over my limbs.
His T-shirt was soft and scented slightly of laundry soap but had overwhelming notes of vanilla and spice. I fumbled around for my discarded items and padded over to the door.
I hesitated over the doorknob, desperate to ask for this to happen again and longing to see his face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, but it’d be best if you don’t seek me out.” He spoke before I could, and the edge in his tone wasn’t malice. His overall demeanor was more sorrowful than anything. I’d say you can’t miss what you never had, but can that really be applied here?
“Bex,” Mari called from the other side over her frantic rapping. I didn’t chance looking back at him as I opened the door and the light flooded in. Mari didn’t react to his identity, so I assumed he hadn’t turned to face us.
He wasn’t going to look back for me either.
“Let’s go,” I whispered to her in a plea. I grabbed her hand before she could protest and nearly ran us down the stairs and through the crowded rooms.
CONTENT WARNING!
Dearest reader, I want to make it very clear thatChapter 3is NOT vital to understanding the serial killer. It is intended to read how a snippet from a crime show would be portrayed, but with graphic details not afforded to public television artistry.
If graphic violence, sexual assault, rape, or other sexual transgressions are a trigger for you, this chapter can be skipped. It is the ONLY instance of great detail during the action and event mentioned in the book. Other scenes are allusions after the fact and will be read as reflections or prior thoughts of predatory wishes. Readers will learn the nature of future acts through detective and alike points of view. This point of view will contain victim statements that could put some readers in a position where they feel as though they could be/are the victim. There is no romance or love in the killer confessionals. They are not intended to be read with adoration or admiration. Sexual violence, unwilling and unwanted participation, and flat-out assault are not consensual and not to be taken as romantic interest. These are not consensual-non-consent scenes; there are no boundaries understood between consenting parties. These scenes are not dark romance.
Please use caution and mind content that could be too heavy for victims to process. I want to balance my content for all readers, which is why I made this information optional and will repeat necessary knowledge comfortably later. Please go toChapter 4if you wish to skip these details.
Chapter 3
October 10-11, 2020
Killer Confessions
She wasn’t Bexley. She was rude and crass; an endless trail of flirtation and promiscuity followed her. She almost accosted Bexley at the party, risking tainting her perfection. Trash didn’t belong in the same vicinity as Bex. I strung her up from the support beams so that I could see her squirm and watch her flesh ripple as waves of fear shook her.
“Please! I won’t go to the police; I’m sorry I hurt you.” Her begging was a melody that scratched at the itch in my brain. Trisha Manohen was society’s description of sex appeal, but she lacked the personality and charisma that completed the trifecta of perfection.
“You won’t be going anywhere, unfortunately,” I murmured against her ear. Her body writhed against mine. I wanted to get my dick hard, but I needed more than that. Her thrashing only heated my desire.
She was a disgusting excuse of a woman, constantly showing her body and disgracing what should be respected. Her influence over Bex would be disastrous if I let her continue on. Bex made a mistake, but she could be forgiven for her sin. Temptation was a strong force that gripped people and pulled them down.
“I’m sorry, please. What do you want from me? What do I need to do so you let me go?” Bartering her life for service, typical. “I’ll do anything.” A survival tactic. She never showed real interest in me before seeing what I was capable of.
Her body hit the ground with a thud as I severed the rope holding her up. Her breasts shook on impact, and I thought about how Bex’s had looked while she was riding her pleasure. That sparked a twitch in my depraved cock. I secured her bound hands above her head and saddled her body. She was shaking with fear, and it excited me.
