Dead of Summer

Chapter 22

It takes longer than I want to get back to the cabin, but the reason for that is no fault of mine. Not when Kinsley and Liza appear on either side of me, taking over the space on my log and pulling me back down when I try to escape.

“Oh no you don’t.” Kins laughs, though the sound isn’t exactly friendly. There’s a feral light in her eyes, and I groan before hiding my face in my hands.

“I know you saw all of that,” I tell both of them, having felt their piercing gazes on me the whole time I was with Kayde. “I don’t know what you’re going to ask, but you saw it, so I feel like I should be allowed to go. Or I’ll invoke my uh, sixth amendment right?” I squint, feeling like that’s not right.

“Fifth,” Liza corrects. “If you don’t know which it is, you don’t get to use it. And we have questions.”

“Thought you didn’t want answers. Neither of you are interested in, what’s the word again…Oh right. Dick.”

Sure enough, Kinsley looks offended at the word, and I take a little bit of pride in that when she’s trapping me on the log with her. If she’s going to ask me uncomfortable questions, I’m going to make this worse.

Naturally, both of them grill me. On the s’more, on the marshmallow. On Kayde. But I fend off most of their questions and finally end up on my feet, managing not to pitch over into the fire. “I’m going to bed,” I announce to both of them, hands on my hips. “My kids are in bed, it’s time for me to sleep so I can get up and stop them from murdering the talent show competition in the morning. If I”m not out and at breakfast when you guys are, assume a child killed me. Come look for me, and set me out on the lake in a Viking style funeral.”

“I’ll shoot a flaming arrow onto your kayak to set your body ablaze as you cross over into Valhalla,” Liza agrees easily, as Kinsley tries to think of something else to ask me.

“Hey.” Before I can cement my escape, Kins reaches out and grips my wrist, staring at me with wide eyes. “Really quick, okay? You’d tell us, right? If Kayde was doing something you don’t want him to do?”

I look between them, surprised to see a matching amount of concern in their eyes. I have no idea where it’s coming from, or why, but it is touching to have both of them asking like this.

Too bad I can’t tell them the truth. Too bad I didn’t have the balls to tell them the truth five days ago, before any of this happened. Surely we could’ve figured something out. We could’ve stopped Kayde and either chased him away, gotten him arrested, or killed him.

Though now my stomach twists, screaming at me that we are not killing Kayde, and I can’t help but agree. I can’t kill him now. Not unless he breaks his side of our bargain. Even if that were the case—no.

No, I’d kill Kayde before I ever let him hurt anyone.

But I certainly can’t let that show on my face.

I grin maniacally at the two of them, and dip my head in a nod. “I’d tell you,” I tell them, crossing my fingers behind my back as I add, “I promise. And we’d go all Goodbye, Earl on him, but I do need someone else to make the black eyed peas since I think they’re nasty no matter how you cook them.”

“I’ll put bacon in them,” Liza assures me. “He won’t be able to taste anything except bacon and salt.”

“I’ll dig the hole and uh, bash him over the head if the poison doesn’t take,” Kinsley promises quickly.

“Then we’re all set. I’ll let Kayde know that there’s a contingency plan for if he lays a hand or tooth out of line.” I hold my hands up in surrender, already inching toward the cabins.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Liza advises, though she doesn’t exactly sound disapproving. Especially when she wiggles her brows as I glance her way, and snags an arm around Kinsley. “Not that we’ll be following my advice.”

Kinsley kisses her cheek, and I can’t help the warmth that blooms in my chest looking at them. I have no idea if they’ll last, but if I could wish for anything right now, it would be for Liza and Kinsley to find their soul mates in each other. God, I really want that for them.

After all, I’ve never seen my best friend more head over heels for someone. While I’ll never tell her, I also think she’d underestimated how hard she’d fall for Liza. But that, in my opinion, just makes it more perfect for them. “Love you Kins.” I wiggle my fingers at her, then at Liza. “My affection for you grows daily, Liza.”

“As does mine for you,” she promises me, kissing Kinsley’s temple. “Now go sleep.” Again with the brow wiggle, and it makes my eyes roll up in my head as I skirt the fire and head for my cabin.

Obviously, I don’t fall asleep. No matter what Kayde said—and the fact that I’m surprisingly not afraid of him actually walking in on me while I’m unconscious—I don’t feel tired enough to sleep. But that’s probably because I slept most of the day, in lieu of getting up and playing ultimate frisbee with my terrifying campers.

So instead, I change into my pajamas; a black tank top and shorts patterned on one side with creepy smiley faces and solid lavender on the other leg, and hop into bed with my nightstand lamp on. In my top drawer, I rummage around until I’ve found one of my books, and I snort at the cover of it before leaning back on my pillow.

Is it cliche to read a horror novel set in the woods, in a cabin, while I’m dealing with a murderer at my summer camp? Or is it just bad timing?

My fingers stroke the well-worn cover, over the spine that’s bent in too many places, and I smile fondly at it. This is one I’d dug out of my mom’s keepsakes, from a box she’d said was okay to throw away. But then I’d found this, and she’d admitted that she’d read it over and over as a kid, along with The Black Stallion, which also sits in my nightstand.

And okay, yeah, maybe tonight, that would be more appropriate. Especially with the way my skin prickles and every noise outside feels like it might be Kayde.

Even though it never is, no matter how many times I jump and glance at the door expectantly.

Finally I do switch books, pulling out the yellowed copy of The Black Stallion and opening it carefully to the beginning. Though I’ve read the whole series enough times that I can quote more of it than I’d like to admit, and I could open this book to any page and instantly know what’s going on.

But it’s the nostalgia that I really care about. When I want something old and comforting, something that reminds me of home, I read these two books and remember the first time my mom read this to me. They way her voice trembled and her eyes flicked to the door like she’d been afraid Dad would come back at any moment.

I’d been so scared back then. I’d still been sore from him hitting me with the broken bottle, and tears had stained my face that night even after we’d gotten home from the emergency room where they’d stitched up the cut across my brow and pressed a couple of neon pink Bandaids to it.

Absently, I touch the scar, flipping to the next page as I slowly drown in a story I’ve read a million times before.

Even though I was sure I’d know when he’s coming, I jump in surprise when my door opens; Kayde forgoing even one knock to let me know he’s here. He pauses when he closes it, eyes on me as he takes in my wide-eyed surprise and the book in my hands.

“You’re reading?” he asks, kicking off his shoes by the door and striding over to sit on the bed like he owns it. “Reading?”

“Yes,” I tell him slowly, one brow rising as I gear up to say something mocking. “You should try it sometime. They say it’s good for you. Maybe it can be your hobby, instead of, you know.” I lift one arm and make dramatic chopping motions while Kayde watches, completely flat-lipped at my stupid display.

But it’s not like I’m trying to be serious or realistic in my movements. Though judging by Kayde’s face, I’ve offended the Order of the Ax Murderers. “Sorry,” I snort, moving to rest the book on the nightstand.

Before I can, however, Kayde reaches out, his fingers closing gently on the paperback and giving a soft tug. But I hesitate, biting my lower lip. “Be careful, okay?” I request, finally letting go of it. “It was my mom’s. She gave it to me a long time ago and…” I trail off, not wanting to trauma-dump on him or tell him my whole damn life story. He’s definitely not interested, and I’d just look pathetic at the end of it.

I definitely don’t need that tonight.

“So it’s special?” He’s more careful than I could ever expect him to be as he turns it over and reads the back, blinking in what might be amusement or surprise. “Didn’t take you for a horse girl,” he drawls, handing back the book a second later.

“Oh, no I’m not. I don’t really ride or anything anymore. Though, I absolutely wanted a black stallion of my own as a kid and nothing Mom said would ever convince me otherwise. Anyway, it’s just…memories, you know? I’ve read the whole series. Mom has them all in her office. But she gave me this one and it’s”—I turn the book over in my hands, fingers stroking the cover—“just really special.”

I reach over and put the book back into my drawer beside the horror novel I hadn’t been in the mood for. That one can wait until the boogeyman isn’t sitting in front of me, or occupying the same camp as I am.

When I look back at Kayde, I draw my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them so I can rest my chin on my kneecaps and stare at him expectantly. “Okay, so, what now? There are people up around here, so if you’re going to throw me over your shoulder again and drag me away to your secret hideout, you might have to be a little more careful.”

His smirk twitches at his lips, eyes sparkling with amusement at my words. Well, if nothing else, at least I’ll be able to list on my resumé that I can amuse a serial killer. That has to be worth something. “Is that what you want me to do?” he asks, sliding toward me on the bed until he’s crowding up against my legs and the glint in his eye is darker, more predatory. “Would you like me to carry you back there and tie you up again?” He reaches a hand up to my throat, peeling off the Bandaids before I can even consider stopping him.

My hands itch to reach up and rub the marks, but it’s clear he wants to look at them. Clearer still when he runs his fingers lightly over them, then cups the back of my neck to drag me forward and off balance. It takes some maneuvering, but I finally end up on my knees, one hand braced on his thigh and the other on his shoulder.

It’s nothing if not incredibly awkward.

“I still think I should get a reward for not safe wording last night,” I breathe, feeling bold when he’s not being particularly frightening. “I went above and beyond, you know?”

“I know, baby girl,” Kayde assures me, eyes never leaving mine. “Sit on my lap for me. You look…incredibly uncomfortable, if I’m being honest.”

Well, obviously I look that way because I absolutely am. This is far from the most comfortable position I’ve ever had the displeasure of being in, and my lips twitch at his words. “Do I get a please?” I ask, wondering if I’m pushing my luck.

Obviously, I am. Kayde huffs and grabs my hips, dragging me over him until he’s arranged me across his thighs, my arms resting tentatively on his shoulders. My breath hitches in my throat, and he purrs approvingly, the sound reverberating throughout his shoulders and into my arms. I curl my fingers against his shirt, watching him as the smile falls from my lips.

In my mind, this is always where things get dangerous. When he decides he’s done letting me mouth off, when he’s done letting me pretend to have any pull here. That’s when things always flip, and I have a feeling that shoe is about to drop as it has almost every night this week.

Because Kayde is not one to let me stay ‘in charge’ for long.

“If you’d let me talk instead of trying to get the last word, you’d know I do intend to reward you,” he tells me, his words easy and casual. I, however, can’t believe what I’ve just heard. Kayde giving me something? Admitting I did something well?

Okay, so, yeah. He has a lot of praise for me during the times he’s buried in my pussy, about to come, or when I’m sobbing and coming apart around him. But that’s not real. That’s not exactly a confession outside of the heat of the moment, and not one I can believe. Except in the moment, of course, with Kayde breathing against my skin and calling me all the names that make my stomach curl and my thighs clench together in a silent plea for him to fuck me.

But he really never needs to know that.

“I’m willing to let you pick, sweetheart,” Kayde goes on, once he’s sure he has my attention. “I’ll let you do anything you want with me tonight. So long as I get to fuck that sweet, pretty pussy of yours.” One of his hands curls in the waistband of my shorts, before both move down my thighs, pushing the fabric up as far as it will go.

Which is all the way up to my hips, given how loose my pajamas are. And as per usual, I’m not wearing anything under them. But I’d figured that there was no point since I knew Kayde was showing up. Why put more on when I’m sure he’s just going to rip it off?

And he certainly isn’t complaining. I pause with my hands pressed to his chest as I study his face. “Are you being serious?” I ask, head tilting to the side as I survey his face for any sign of mockery. He doesn’t seem to be taunting me. He doesn’t seem like he’s about to laugh, tell me I’m an idiot, and tie me down with a hand on my throat.

Not that I’d really complain about it, if he did. How could I, when the ax murderer in my bed is the best I’ve ever had?

God, that really says something about me.

“I’m being deadly serious, sweetheart,” Kayde promises. He shifts, moving slowly enough and with a hand on my hip so I’m not dislodged from his lap. But by the end of his moving under me, he’s reclining against my pillows and I’m on his lap, hands still on his chest.

He looks so…pliant like this. So sweet as he gazes up at me earnestly.

“Stop that,” I murmur, reaching up to touch his bottom lip without thinking. Before I can pull away, he nips at my fingers, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Stop what?” he asks, when he’s finally bored with what he’s doing and the tips of my fingers are tingling from his playful nips and licks. “What did I do, Summer?”

“This.” I reach up slowly, dragging my fingers cautiously down his cheek. “This isn’t, umm, you.” I don’t know how to phrase it without sounding like a maniac. “Don’t lie to me when you’re here. Please.” I can handle anything he throws at me. I’ve decided that, or at least, I hope I can. But I can’t handle the mask he uses on everyone else being used on me.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do.” Frustration builds in my throat, and I try to swallow it down. “You lie to everyone here and show them this face, making them think you’re earnest and friendly. You show them what they want to see; what you think they want to see,” I amend, sitting back on his hips with a little more confidence than I’d felt when I’d started this.

At least he hasn’t thrown me off of him and gotten mad.

But the way he’s looking at me, like he’s seeing something new in my face, is almost worse. “You think I lie to you?”

“I think this is how you look at people when you want them to like you and believe you aren’t an ax murderer. When you want them to think you’re, you know, nice.” I end the sentence flatly, unamused. “Kayde, I know what you are. I don’t need the Lassie face. That’s…totally what I call it, by the way.”

Kayde barks out a sharp laugh, his eyes darkening and expression becoming shrewd as he sits up on one elbow. “The Lassie face?” he chuffs. “That’s sort of ridiculous and maybe a little perfect?” He squints, glancing at my nightstand as he thinks about it. “We can call it that. The Lassie face.”

Unexpectedly, Kayde picks up my hand again, nipping at my fingers once more. “But I don’t think I’m Lassie-facing you,” he goes on, surprisingly serious. “I don’t need to, remember? You know what I am.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re looking really friendly right about now. Or, you were,” I amend. “You’re not that friendly.”

“Or maybe…” He kisses my fingers, then lets go of my hand before sinking back onto the bed. “Maybe you just don’t know me that well, hmm?”

“I know you better than you think,” I mutter conspiratorially, and because maybe he’s right about my desire to always get the last word. But I switch my focus instead of trying to argue further with him; my hands drag down his chests until I can hook them under his shirt and pull it upward. He gets with the program and yanks it off over his head, letting me toss it down to the floor beside the bed.

But then I just…look at him. It’s strange to be here, with only his hand on my hip to steady me and his eyes open and not full of his normal predatory vibe. He’s just waiting for me to make a move, and all I can do is shift my hips over his and feel awkward about this whole thing.

“Are you just feeling uncreative tonight?” I ask finally, words snappy like I’m hiding my own confusion. “So you’re wrapping it up as a gift and saying I get to choose?” It’s not that I really believe my words. Honestly, I barely know what I’m saying until they’re out of my mouth.

But Kayde’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, and a less-friendly grin twitches at his lips. “Are you trying to provoke me, baby girl?” he asks teasingly, shifting once more until I feel his knee at my lower back. He must have his foot pressed against the bed, instead of laying flat, though I have no idea. “I’m telling you to take what you want…but if taking what you want is really just taunting me until I take you, then I can do that, no problem.”

The silence stretches out between us as my teeth lock around any treacherous answer I could give.

“Or do you just not know how to take it, hmm?” Kayde purrs, sitting up so we’re pressed flush together. My hands slide from his chest, only to find purchase on his shoulders while he wraps an arm around my hips. “Did none of your boyfriends teach you how to take charge?” I hate the way he goads me on, and the way it makes heat thrum through my veins.

Well, I’d like to hate that part of it, anyway. But in reality it has me squirming and trying to look anywhere but at Kayde, so he won’t see the confusion and anxiety on my face. He’s spot on, after all. The only boyfriend I had sex with was very traditional and certainly would never have let me take charge.

Not that he was particularly good at it, either.

“I don’t think everyone likes their partner taking charge when they’re not good at it,” I point out, wincing internally at the slight bit of self deprecation that I can’t help.

“Then you should’ve just said so, baby. I can teach you how to take what you want. I’ll even be your willing volunteer to practice on.” His words are quiet, though they’re rough as hell around the edges. “But let’s figure out what you want first, hmm? We can start easy tonight. Do you want to ride my cock, Summer? You can push me down on your bed and keep me right here, taking me how it feels good for you instead of for me.”

Fuck,that shouldn’t be so hot.

“Yes.” The word is out of my mouth before I can even think to stop it, or to say something else. Hell, I don’t even hesitate, and my wide eyes remain fixed on his face in the light from my lamp.

“Good girl.” The praise is soft, but no less potent in the way it sends a ripple of heat down my spine. “You want me to walk you through this?”

With my thighs on his hips and his smirk lighting up my nerve endings, it’s really not that difficult to figure out what I need to do to get what I crave from my psychopath. I nod once, then again, more confidently, without looking away from his face.

Because God, I love to see the little expressions twitching across his features when he’s thinking, or preparing for what he’s going to do. “Talk me through it,” I breathe, my attention never wavering.

“If that’s what my baby girl needs from me…then I’ll talk you through anything, Summer. Take off your clothes for me.” It isn’t quite a demand, but I find myself scrambling to comply just the same. Tugging off my shirt is first, and before I can do more than hook my fingers in the waistband of my shorts, Kayde’s hands are running up my sides slowly. Appreciatively.

“Sorry.” He chuckles, though he certainly doesn’t sound sorry. “I just can’t help touching you and getting my hands all over you.” With a flourish, he drops his hands to his chest. “Please proceed.”

“Thanks so much for your blessing,” I deadpan, standing up just long enough to shimmy out of my shorts and drop them onto the floor. “What would I have done without?—”

“Get back on the bed and stop running your mouth, sweetheart.” Kayde’s growl is quick and cool as he shoves his own shorts off and away. It’s hard for me not to look at him—at all of him. He’s perfectly, gloriously tan everywhere, and the only reason I hesitate at the side of my bed, brow raised, is because at heart, I really do enjoy defying him where I can.

“Summer.” His tone is absolutely withering, and he props himself up on his elbows to stare flatly at me. “Darling, get on the bed. Especially if you want to continue our game. If you make me get up, then I’m going to pin you down by your throat and wreck you. You won’t get a say, and the only thing you will be doing is begging me to let you come.”

That, really, shouldn’t be as enticing as it is. He must see it in my face, because he rolls his eyes but can’t help looking pleased with himself. And he doesn’t hide that little arrogance from me as I watch him, arms crossed over my chest like I’m suddenly self conscious.

And, well, maybe I am. This isn’t how things normally go. It’s different to be the one setting the pace, in theory. Though I don’t doubt that his words aren’t an empty threat. If he wants to, or if I take too long, Kayde would have no problem taking control and doing whatever he wants.

Not that it’s ever been a problem.

Sucking in a breath like I’m about to do something a little bit terrifying, I crawl back onto the bed, straddling his hips once more. “This better?” I ask, poised just above his stomach and holding myself up with my knees.

“Not quite,” Kayde muses. “Sit down, baby girl. You’re not perching like a bird.” He jerks my hips down, hard, until I’m sitting flush against his hips. I can feel his cock swelling against my ass, and it takes everything in me not to grind my hips back against him, just to see what he’ll do.

“Your last boyfriend ever have you ride his face?” The purred question nearly makes me choke, and my look must be enough of an answer, because Kayde snorts out a laugh. “Nah, I didn’t think so. Come up here then, Summer.”

“You don’t need to,” I point out, feeling more awkward than I should. Other people do things worse than this.

I just don’t want to be bad at it. Not right now, with Kayde in the room with me.

“I know I don’t need to,” Kayde agrees. “No one ever said I did. Get up here for me. I promise you’ll love it, and if you don’t…” He glances away, looking thoughtful. “Hmm, I don’t know. I’ll do something for you, I’m sure.” He tugs on my thighs, not relenting until I finally lean forward and let him guide my legs further up his sides.

“This feels awkward,” I mumble finally, with my thighs bracketing his face. Gently, I reach down to smooth my hand through Kayde’s hair, hating how my fingers shake. It’s more than awkward, and I’m sitting up as much as I can so that I’m not actually doing what he wants.

“It feels awkward because you’re making it awkward,” Kayde replies sweetly. “God, sweetheart, just stop over thinking this, okay? Just trust me on this?”

I don’t trust him on anything.

My lips part, no doubt so I can say something I’ll absolutely regret, but Kayde isn’t really interested in my words. His hands stroke up my thighs and when his fingers dig into my flesh, he wastes no time in jerking me down until I’m gasping and gripping his hair hard to keep myself from falling over like a dumbass.

“Kayde—” His name is all I get out before Kayde kisses my inner thigh, then turns to lick a strip up my folds, ending at my clit. He does it again, then once more, but on the third time swirls his tongue over my clit instead of moving away immediately.

His hands curl, loosening some when he’s satisfied I’m not going to move. His grip becomes comforting instead of overly tight. He strokes his palms up and down my hips, eyes on mine when I look down at him.

“Fuck,” I murmur, feeling heat staining my cheeks. He’s so hot like this it’s unreal, and I know the blush on my cheeks is probably all across my shoulders and throat by now. Whatever he sees in my face must amuse him, though, because I feel his chuckle against my folds as he licks into me again. But this time, his tongue plunges deeper, as if he’s trying to taste every inch of my pussy that he can.

My thighs tremble at the new, pleasurable feeling, and I shift, straining to keep most of my weight off of him as I gently scrape my fingers against his scalp. It’s the only thing I’ll allow myself; despite everything, I don’t want to hurt him.

But something I’m doing clearly isn’t to his liking. Kayde’s eyes narrow, and he jerks my hips backward so his face is unobscured by my body. “Sit the fuck down,” he growls. “And stop treating me like porcelain.”

“Aren’t you the one who quoted the Little Bisque Doll thing to me in the woods?” I can’t help retorting sharply. “You’re the one implying you are porcelain.”

Something like surprise crosses his face, but it’s gone too quickly for me to figure out what it is. He scoffs and turns his face to nip hard at my thigh.

“Ow. Ow!” I squeak when his teeth dig in so he can suck a mark onto my skin. “Fuck, Kayde?—”

“Stop being so careful.” He doesn’t sound like he’s asking, or suggesting it. “I won’t break, Summer.” Without letting me answer, he jerks me forward once more, causing me to topple forward and for my hand in his hair to grip harder.

He doesn’t give me a chance to hold my weight away from him this time, though. Not with how tightly he grips my hips and drags me down to him, until my folds are pressed flush with his face and he can lick into me deeper than before.

“Oh shit. Oh goddamnit,” I curse, my fingers unintentionally tightening in his hair. My other hand goes to the headboard, and I close my eyes hard at the feeling of him fucking me with his tongue. It feels better than it had when I was focusing on keeping myself supported on my spread out knees.

It feels better than I ever could’ve imagined it would. Whimpers fall from between my lips, and I screw my eyes shut harder. Though at Kayde’s growl, I look down at him sharply, a jolt going through me when I see his hazy gaze on my face, waiting for me to take notice of him.

When I do, I can’t look away. Though I can only see his eyes, somehow there’s more than enough expression in them to keep me occupied and keep me guessing. My mind spins as I stare at him, my eyes wide while my nails scrape hard against his scalp.

But he never stops what he’s doing. His jaw has to be aching. Especially when he encourages me to grind against his mouth, my hips rocking in his grip. I breathe deeply, trying not to let the butterflies in my stomach rush me to an early end. And he never stops changing things up. He fucks me on his tongue for a little while, then goes back to licking and teasing at my clit. Sometimes he licks deep, others it’s shallow, teasing laps with his tongue that have me begging.

“Kayde, Kayde,” I whine, my voice as soft as I can make it so I don’t wake up the girls next door. “You gotta—you gotta stop. I’m going to come.” Whatever I’d thought about how this would go, me finishing embarrassingly fast thanks to his tongue wasn’t it.

He chuckles against me, and just holds me tighter. It’s a clear sign of what he wants, as is the way his hands encourage me to grind harder against his lips and tongue.

One more purring, taunting growl is all it takes. The way it feels rippling through me just feels so filthy that I lose my grip on my reactions with a gasp, coming on his tongue.

But that just seems to push him on. He licks harder, devouring me as best he can as my orgasm tears through me with the aid and taunting of his tongue. It isn’t until my fingers tighten in his hair and I throw my head back with a whine of protest that he finally, slowly, lets his movements slow.

Though by the time he’s flipped me on my back, with my thighs around his hips, I’m shaking and staring up at him like he’s personally responsible for the stars in the sky.

His face is wet.

The thought goes through my brain over and over again as I stare up at him, my legs falling open at a nudge from his knee. I reach up to him, smearing my finger through the wetness on his lips only for him to nip at my thumb, a growl in his throat.

“You taste so good, Summer,” he purrs, his voice a little rough around the edges. Somehow, that’s what has me whimpering under him, my body jolting back to life.

“Fuck,” I breathe, staring up at him and unable to look away. “Is this where I ride your cock?”

“No,” he laughs, a little apologetically, as Kayde leans down until his lips brush mine. “Well, it should’ve been. But I can’t help myself.” There’s a soft snarl in his voice that sends a shiver down my spine. “I need you like this, pinned under me while I fuck your sweet pussy.”

He doesn’t even wait to finish talking before his hand is at my thigh. I feel the brush of his cock against my folds, but all I can do is take a quick, hitched breath before he’s thrusting into me smoothly, not stopping until his hips are flush with mine.

“Hey.” One hand snakes up and he grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I said you taste good, didn’t I?”

I nod, though he barely lets me make the movement. Frankly, I’m too focused on the rocking of his hips against mine, and the way my body is so quick to respond, even though he’d just wrung an orgasm out of me.

“Then it’s cruel of me not to share it with you.” My brain barely registers what he means before Kayde’s mouth is on mine, demanding entrance with teeth and tongue.

I give it to him, because there really isn’t anything else to do. I can’t seem to help myself as he kisses me; forcing me to taste myself on his tongue.

It’s so filthy. It makes me writhe, causes me to feel like my veins are on fire as he keeps my mouth hostage. Finally, I can’t help but sob against his lips, my lips chasing his as the overstimulation from my first orgasm becomes desire for a second.

“Greedy girl,” Kayde teases, pulling away just enough to slam into me even deeper. “Greedy, perfect girl. Are you going to fall apart on my cock, Summer? So greedy that one orgasm from my mouth wasn’t enough?”

“I’m not praising you just to boost your ego.” I laugh a bit incoherently. “You’ll have to try harder than that.”

His low sound might be a growl as he dips down to nip at my throat, just over the mark he’s already left. I yelp, hand flying up so I can tangle my fingers in his hair as he bites me. “Kayde?—!”

He doesn’t stop. He just changes his angle, pulling my leg over his hip so he can nail the part of my body that makes me see stars. My other hand comes up to loop over his neck, and I can barely register the soft, slurred pleas that fall from my lips.

When I do come, Kayde seems to be psychic about that too. He crushes his lips against mine once more, nipping and tugging at my lower lip as his movements lose their rhythm; becoming frantic. Soon enough he’s stilling, with a curse swallowed between our lips as he comes inside me while I clench my thighs tightly around him and continue to ride out my release.

Minutes later, I find myself on my side, my eyes on the wall with his arm slung over my hips. “It’s still your night,” Kayde murmurs in my ear, lips brushing the soft skin under it. “Is there anything you want me to do, Summer?”

Stay.

I swallow, hard.

Stay with me. Don’t leave this time.

Taking a deep breath, I ignore the way my heart flutters in my throat in anticipation.

Let me turn around and pull me in closer. Stay like this with me, please.

“No,” I tell him, never taking my eyes off of the wall. “I can’t think of anything.”