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I smile behind my burlap mask, and warm air hits my face as I laugh. I’m not angry. I’m fucking thrilled.
“Good girl.” I nod.
The next strike earns me a scream just as loud as the first, though her upper body stays on the bench this time. The one after that is followed by a moan and then another.
On and on until my Charlotte lays inside my truck shattered and needy. Equally pain-filled and horny.
Exactly how I want her.
The seam of her jeans is wet enough that the denim has darkened, and I wonder if one of her screams was from an orgasm.
God, I hope so.
I walk closer, closing the distance between us, and throw my belt on to the dashboard.
I want to lean down and fuse my lips to the wet seam of her pants. To lick and suck at her arousal before making my way up her body and show her what we taste like together. But I’m not ready for her to see my face, for that thrill of our game to be up.
Besides, no matter how much I want to feel the softness of her lips on mine, I want to feel them somewhere else even more.I grin, trying to catch my breath, and encourage Charlotte to shuffle over enough for me to slide onto the seat behind the wheel.
She sits with her back against the other door. Her legs remain parted, spread wide to stop them from touching. It makes me smile wider, and a deep chuckle escapes me before I can stop it.
“You did good,” I praise, not wanting her to take my humor the wrong way.
The sound of a sniffle fills the cab. The whimper of pain that follows wraps around me, trapped inside with us now that the door is tightly closed.
She doesn’t speak, and neither do I.
The sound of my zipper is loud. I watch in what little light there is as Charlotte’s eyes widen, her gaze glued to my crotch, where my hand disappears into my pants.
I widen my legs and scoot forward, getting comfortable as my hand wraps around my furious cock.
It’s hot and heavy in my palm.
I give it a tight squeeze and hiss as I pull it out of my pants. My chest heaves, and even though I know I won’t last long once the warmth of her mouth wraps around me, I give the large head a few tugs, enjoying the pain-filled arousal that zaps down my back.
“Come here, Charlotte.” I pant. She doesn’t ask how I know her name. She doesn’t speak at all.
When I hear no movement, my head snaps in her direction. A growl is her only warning that I will not be telling her twice.
I hear her swallow hard, the bob of her throat hidden by the shadows.
My hand rotates, keeping my pleasure on the edge as I watch her body pitch forward. She slowly crawls across the truck seat. The distance between us suddenly feels like yards rather than inches as I wait for her to reach me.
But now she kneels next to me, height on her side for once as she looks down at me, and I have no idea what to do with her.
Her chest heaves just as mine does. My gaze lowers to where her breasts rise and fall. The wool of her sweater somehow accentuates their curves.
I have watched more people than I would have liked fucking. When hunting my prey, I like that it’s their most vulnerable time, locked in passion and ignorant of everything around them. It keeps them oblivious to me until I’m ready to be seen.
I want to be rough. I want to watch Charlotte choke on my cock and listen to her swallow me.
Instinct has gotten me to where I am in life so far, so why argue with it now?
Fuck, I want this. I need her.
For the first time on a kill night, my one free day of the year, I stop thinking and let my body take over.
My right hand lands on her stomach, spanning almost the entire width. The sweater is soft under my skin, softer than I remember, and it makes me wonder what her skin beneath it feels like.
