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“Give it to me,” I say.
“I’m…I’m about…Oh god,” he roars, his release hitting my throat first, before he pulls out of my mouth completely and aims it on my tongue. When I close my mouth to swallow, he rubs his slick head across my lips, smearing his cum and my blood together. My tongue slides over my top lip first before cleaning up the bottom, tasting the mix of the two liquids. He pushes into my mouth again, both of us moaning.
After a few more seconds, he eases away and drops to his side next to me, and we quickly begin to devour each other. Our tongues collide in battle—mine wanting to force the taste of us into his mouth while his seeks it out.
When we pull apart, simultaneously we both say, “So fucking good.”
11
KASPIAN
We don’t have time to bask in post-coital bliss, unfortunately, but before we get up to clean up after ourselves, I pull Quin up and bring him to a stop in front of the mirror on top of our dresser.
“Don’t look yet,” I say, angling his body away. “Let me clean it first.”
I take one of the towels on the bed and rush to the sink in the kitchen to get it wet before rejoining him in the bedroom.
As carefully as I can, I clean the carving, wiping away all the blood that dripped and smeared across his skin. Quin hisses, clenching his jaw tight as I finish up.
I spin him toward the mirror. “Look at my artwork,” I say, standing behind him.
He takes a step forward, inspecting the curves and lines.
“Wow,” he says, his fingers moving to trace it before thinking better of it. “It looks good, Kas.”
I beam, grabbing him by the shoulders, turning him back to me so I can get another look. My mark on him is simple yet speaks volumes. The tail of the letter Q not only begins deeper inside the circle, but it extends farther down creating the letter K in a somewhat fancy script. I can’t get the perfect curves like I can with a writing utensil, but I did my best.
“The two letters are combined and linked together,” I say, looking into his eyes. “This one little line here turns this shape into a Q instead of a circle, but also gives the K a starting point. We give each other what we need, Quin. I thought it was perfect for us.”
He takes my hand and squeezes. “It is.”
“I guess I should bandage you up.”
“I’ll do it,” he says, moving past me to head for the door. “Get a fire started out back.”
I nod and begin to gather clothes, but Quin comes back in shortly after leaving. He pushes his naked body against mine as his hand grips my hip.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
I smile against his lips before we kiss. “Happy Valentine's Day.”
He’s gone before we can say anything else to each other, and as I start stripping the bed, I notice the clock reads a minute past twelve. It’s officially February fourteenth.
* * *
It took forever to get everything done, having to clean our own blood off ourselves before starting to mess with the bodies in the shed. Using thick, black tarp, we wrapped each body individually, sure to remove any personal belongings beforehand. We loaded them into the back of my truck and rolled up the plastic on the floor and put it into a trash bag. Every piece of clothing, as well as wallets and phones, are burning in a fire.
With their bodies in the truck, we drove nearly two hours south and parked near the shore of Resurrection Bay. Quin unloaded the canoe from his truck, and one-by-one, we secured the bodies with rope tied to two concrete blocks, taking them out several miles before being tossed overboard.
After that, we had to get to their vehicles and drive them to harder to find locations, yet close enough to hiking areas that when found, people could assume they possibly died in a fall or by a bear encounter.
By the time we’re done completely, it’s almost eight in the morning and the sun is coming up. Thank goodness for these late mornings in Alaska at this time of the year. We had more time under the cover of darkness to get things done.
If Quin wasn’t as responsible as he is, we’d have called out of work, because we have to be there in thirty minutes. I wanted to call out. I begged him to find an excuse that would get us both out of having to go, but he doesn’t want to appear suspicious. If anyone were to remember we were out of work on the first day Bryan doesn’t show up to work, he doesn’t want to be caught up.
I understand, but damn if I just want to sleep.
“Maybe we should rethink this whole killing thing. I’m fucking exhausted.”
