35. Hell Motel #2
Cusping her around the neck, I bring her to her feet, and our lips collide in an explosion of lust and love. The need to be inside her is more potent than it’s ever been. I want her endlessly. Backing her up until her legs hit the bed, I shove her onto the mattress and yank down her jeans.
She’s not wearing any panties, and I dive straight in to taste her pretty pussy with my hot, probing tongue, dominating and exploring every inch of her wet cunt, plundering into her tight little hole. Her groans splinter through the room, drawing a moan of hunger from my own lips.
I squeeze her tits, tweaking her nipples between my forefinger and thumb. Her ass lifts from the bed, bucking against my face. “I need you to fuck me now,” she demands, wrenching my head up by my hair.
Chuckling, I slip my cut off and rip my shirt over my head before kicking my boots and jeans off all the way. Spinning her onto her stomach, I fist her hair and slap her thick, round ass hard enough to leave a handprint, making her groan in appreciation.
I tug her head back, lining my cock up with her swollen hole. I curl my arm beneath her knee and lift her leg forward before pistoning into her, burying myself to the hilt.
We move like water, ebbing and flowing, drawing out the pleasure, touching and exploring every inch of skin.
Sweat dusts our flesh, and we lose ourselves in the haze of pleasure for what feels like hours.
Getting onto my knees, I lift her torso so her back is to my front and she’s sitting on me in reverse.
Her pussy caresses my cock as she gyrates and rotates her hips.
My teeth bite into her neck, one hand palming her tit, the other slipping between her soaked folds.
Her fingers stroke over mine until we’re both pleasuring her clit.
“I fucking love you,” I tell her as I drive my hips up, rocking her entire body, sending her over the edge.
“You’re mine,” I enforce, flooding her with my cum.
Lying on the bed catching our breath, Kitty’s small, warm body presses against mine, her hands tapping over my chest, mine stroking through her hair.
For the first time in my life, I feel content.
“If we’re going to do this, I don’t want there to be secrets between us,” she says, shattering the quiet.
“Not ‘if,’ Kit. We’re doing this. It’s done.” I correct her.
“I know. I just think I should tell you what we’re really doing out here.”
“It’s not for wedding stuff?” I’ve racked my brain, wondering what the hell could be out here that has to do with the wedding and why fucking Monster, of all people, came with them, and came up empty.
“No,” she says against my skin, her breath tickling my flesh.
Tipping my head, I look down at her, my hand slipping beneath her jawline to tilt her eyes to mine. “Tell me.”
“This has to stay between the four of us. I’m trusting you with other people’s secrets here.” She worries her lip with her teeth.
“I’ll warn you now, if you tell me they’re having some weird affair, I will tell Callan and kick both their asses.” I shudder at the thought of Rogue being drilled by a whale cock in that tiny little room.
“I’m offended you think I’d be okay with that.” She slaps my chest, her eyes squinted.
“What is it then?”
Sitting up, her tits bounce slightly, drawing my gaze to the shiny jewelry there.
“We’re hunting a serial killer.”
It takes a second for her words to penetrate, and she mistakes my disbelief for deafness.
“Did you hear me?”
“I fucking hope not.” She’s going to pull her camera phone out of somewhere and start laughing any second. Good one.
Rolling her eyes, she scoots off the bed and pads toward the bathtub, dunking the plug in before turning on the water.
Sitting up, I bite my lip, watching her naked body bend, flashing her wet swollen lips from between her thighs.
“You know Callan thought Rogue’s little sister’s death was the work of a serial killer, so he had Monster hunting them.” She calls over her shoulder.
“But it wasn’t. It was her cunt of a boyfriend.”
“Right. But they had this information on a particular killer, and Rogue can’t rest until she finds him.”
Is she listening to the words coming out of her own mouth? “That’s crazy, Kit.”
Turning off the tap, she climbs into the tub and starts washing. I hate that she’s removing my scent so fast, and plan to replace it as soon as possible.
Getting up, I pull on my jeans and throw my shirt over my head, dragging it into place.
“Or it’s fucking cool,” she says, excitement in her eyes.
“Nope. Just crazy,” I correct.
“You don’t get it. Monster has this crime wall with it all figured out. They can explain it better than I can.” She stands, water cascading down her body, making my mouth flood with saliva.
“Rogue might be pissed at me for telling you, but it’s a clean slate for us, and I don’t want to start with lies.” Lines tug between her brows.
Monster will have his ass handed to him when Callan finds out.
“Thank you for telling me, but I don’t fucking like it. It’s dangerous as hell, and to think you weren’t even going to tell me where you were going…” I would have lost my fucking mind if she came here with them and something happened or I found out later.
“That was then. This is now.” She grabs a towel off the hook and wraps it around her body, tucking the end into her armpit. “No more secrets.”
“No more secrets,” I mimic. “I’m going to see if there’s a vending machine around,” I tell her, pulling on my boots. I plan to find Monster and see what the hell is going on. What the fuck is he thinking, bringing Kit and Rogue serial killer hunting like they’re some vigilante criminal minds shit.
“Get me something with sugar in it please.” She croons, pushing her arms together to offer me the cleavage it achieves.
Pulling on my cut, I watch her for a few seconds as she checks her phone then grab the door handle.
“Oh—wait!” she calls out, frowning over at me.
“What is it?”
“Rocco,” she says, putting a hand to her head, “who is the bio dad?”
No more secrets.
Flashes of her coming back from Michael’s covered in bruises after messing up and telling him about Nicolas being at the club crash into my mind before Rocco’s innocent face manifests.
No more secrets.
Seconds pass as she watches me expectantly.
“A random guy at a nightclub.” I say, hating myself.
She stares at me and a niggle of dread creeps into my gut.
She knows I’m lying.
Fuck.
Then she snorts, “Figures. That sounds just like her. What a fucking bitch to drag you into her mess of a life.”
“It’s over now.” I assure her, before closing the door.