Chapter 7 #5
I know my dirty talk excites him. That’s why he starts rocking his hips, sucking my whole finger in. Then a second one. And a third. I spank his cheek, enjoying the flesh jiggling and the redness spreading. Fuck, he’s got an amazing rear.
“If you want to get your ass pounded, don’t stop.” My voice is deep. I’m at my limit now.
“I want it. Yes,” he moans as he keeps riding my fingers like a pro. His face turns slightly, showing me his flushed cheeks. His glasses have slid down his nose.
The sudden noise of voices close by makes him freeze. I feel the sudden urge to leave my trace all over his body so people will know he’s taken. But also deep inside him, so he will know who possesses him.
I pull out my fingers and move the other hand on his mouth to cover the loud gasp I know would leave his lips. I spread my precum over my dick and add spit to it. Then I place my cockhead near his slick entrance, the world could end right now, but I’m still stuffing this hole.
When I push my dick into his ass, he clenches tightly, as if he’s been waiting for it all day.
His hole quivers with hunger, his insides throbbing, working hard to suck me deeper.
Jesus fuck, this little chick is going to take everything I have.
I kiss his neck, suck on his pulse—without biting—I want to feel it beat inside my mouth, under my tongue. So precious, yet so fragile.
It’s so fucking good being inside him even without moving. I can feel each and every muscle tensing and squeezing my cock. The heat and pressure surrounding me have his body squirming under me.
He pushes the side of his face on the wall and pulls my hand an inch away from his mouth, just to say, “Take me however you want.”
Sully Carver, I already know I can. I ease out only to batter my way back inside. Vulgar noises of skin hitting skin repeatedly reverberate with the sound of heavy panting. The way he squeezes and twitches around my cock feels fucking amazing.
“Which do you like better, when I pull out or when I push all my nine, hard, thick inches back in?” I growl, stuffing his ass full again.
His expression changes with every word I say. His honesty and eagerness are fucking arousing.
“Please don’t stop,” he mumbles, licking the palm of my hand.
“Don’t stop what?” I wait for his response.
“Taking…me,” he’s barely able to get out.
That’s what I like to hear. I pull his arms back and around my neck and lean his body against mine. “Hold on to me, Sully.”
I pound into him with complete abandon. He’s so damn tight like he’s trying to bite down on my dick. Clenching and squeezing, fucking milking me. Does he like the thought of carrying my cum that much? He’s a fucking natural, and all mine.
He has my hand over his mouth, but judging by his increasing moans he’s getting closer. I shift my dick until I’m sure I’m hitting his prostate and then start to jerk him off.
“Soak me in your pleasure. I’ll wear it on my dick until we get home, and then I’m going to make you suck it off, naked on your knees. You’ll love it, won’t you?”
Two more pumps and his cum covers my palm, fingers, and the ground. He’s rhythmically squeezing me. His hole seems to want me inside twenty-four seven, and I’m very fucking tempted.
My orgasm nearly tears me apart as my balls start emptying.
In the midst of all the pleasure, my eyes find the curve of his shoulder, where the hoodie slid off and left it bare.
Next thing I feel is his blood coating my tongue as I bite into his skin.
His whole body jolts against mine, then shakes as more cum leaves his cock, and his hole clenches even tighter.
Pleasure floods me, my hips jerk violently, jizz shooting deep inside him.
My teeth are still clasped to reassure myself he’ll be properly marked by me.
I can’t fucking stop. I keep hammering and rutting into him, still unloading inside.
My cum continues to shoot from my cock while I fuck him until he’s soaked in it.
All wet and owned by me. I growl my bliss, surging one final time, giving him the last drops.
I force my jaw apart and release his shoulder.
A whimper leaves Sully’s mouth. I can see my claiming teeth marks covered in dark red blood, and I feel a wave of deep satisfaction running through me as blood is all I can taste.
It’s filling my balls with more jizz. My tongue lapping at the wound makes him tremble and chuckle.
“You really got me.” He winces when his finger brushes near the wound, his eyes still glazed over. “I hope it scars. It would be the first sign on my body that I will treasure. It’ll be a reminder of how you can turn me on full force and then satisfy me completely.”
There was nothing about biting in his diary among his fantasies. I just went with my desires. His bare skin looked tantalizing, and I had to mark it as mine.
“No need for hope. It will scar.” I make it sound like a promise as I gaze again at the deep bite. If it doesn’t scar, I’ll try it again. In the end, he will always carry my teeth impression on his pale skin just as he wants.
I take a pink Band-Aid from the inner pocket of my jacket. It has the face of a cat on it, and I gently apply it to the wound. He smiles, caressing the bandage with the tip of his finger.
“Can I turn bitey as well?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. He’s always more relaxed, at ease with me after sex. The power of endorphins.
I hook my finger under the collar of my thermal shirt and pull, displaying my neck to him. My gesture makes him laugh, and my cock slides out of him. I guess we can’t have a second round in the open again, it’s too risky—even with Serena checking every step Sully takes.
I spread his round cheeks just to see my cum leaking out down his legs and further—after I worked so hard to shoot it inside him. But it surely is a cock-hardening vision. Like the mess we made on the ground. Whoever looks at this wet spot will know someone got railed nice and hard. Right here.
I let go of his luscious ass and pull up his briefs and pants. His hand finds my cheek, and I lower my head for a kiss. It’s lazy and slow, sinking its hooks in me.
Sully Carver is my perfect counterpoint. A visceral, untamed, fierce need that goes on and on, nonstop inside my head.
“Still alive, I see.” I hear Domino’s voice as I’m about to reach the motel room.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on me.” I show him the knife in my hand.
He shrugs, patting his pocket, where he probably has a gun.
“It would be interesting to see who dies first.”
I don’t even ponder this thought. “It would if I weren’t more skilled at killing people.”
“Fake dying made you funny.” His mouth is a flat line. “Why do you have this motel room when you just built a house?”
Of course Domino stuck his nose into my affairs. Studying people is an innate part of an assassin; it comes with the job.
“Since when are you interested in anyone’s life but your target’s?”
Domino is a cynical grump, that’s why we sort of get along.
“You left without telling us why. I want to know when you’ll resurrect. The jobs are piling up,” he says, but doesn’t seem like he really cares.
I’m part of an agency called the Neighborly Hitmen. It provides murder-for-hire services. Domino, Vulture, Lip and I are the members.
I open the room door and turn on the light. Everything looks untouched. I crashed here while I was waiting for the cottage to be ready. Now that it is, I came back to grab my stuff.
“What’s in the paper bag?” I ask him as I lift my duffel bag from the floor.
“Chicken thighs.” He sits at the round table, closes the curtains, and starts eating. Domino is shorter than me but brawnier, with reddish-blond hair and fair skin. I don’t know much about him or the other members of the agency, and I like it this way.
“Why are you here? I asked for Vulture’s help.”
“He’s busy, family stuff.”
I tut. “Aren’t jobs piling up?”
“Lip is more than happy to take them.” Lip is the trigger-happy assassin among us.
“Domino, my knife has no patience.” I left Sully sleeping in my bed, and I want to wake him up with my cock.
“It was either me or a carrier pigeon—which you’d have shot at long-range.” He cleans his mouth with a paper napkin and then takes another bite of chicken. “Found two listening devices in the office.”
I stop gathering my stuff.
“There were also three cameras, best quality, the ones you find on the black market, no serial numbers, with a range of three-hundred-plus feet, impossible to locate the frequency. Plus, Lip engulfed them in flames.”
It could be Nine’s work. Keeping an eye to see if I’m actually dead. “Do you have any idea when those devices were placed in the office?”
“Nope. But it’s not the first time someone tried to fuck us over, White Death.” That’s my hitman name.
I nod. “Did Vulture give you something for me?”
“Yes.” He crumples the paper bag into a ball and throws it into the waste basket near the door.
I drop my bag on the bed and cross my arms, standing in front of him.
“I’ll give it to you if you come with me.” There’s always another angle with him.
“I’ll pass,” I easily reply.
“You never pass a job.”
“I just did.” Is he going to follow me if I don’t? I don’t want him near Sully. Not yet. Breaking both his legs would stop him.
“I just need a lookout. It’s ten fucking minutes from here. How long has it been since you killed someone?”
Too long, damn it. “I need to stop somewhere first.” Jacob is still waiting for me. Maybe Domino can help me tenderize him a little. A couple of days with only moldy bread to eat will make him remember anything, and if not, making him suffer is still good to me.
Forty minutes later, I’m in a trailer park, fuck knows where. I’d call it Shitville. Domino and I are surrounded by eight fucks inside a shitty trailer.
“Lookout, my ass,” I growl at him, dodging a punch as I hit the fucker with a double kick, one in the stomach and the second in the neck.
I shoot an arrow, hitting another guy in the eye, as my boots crunch down on used syringes.
I lift my bow and smack a fucker in the mouth, and after he falls down, in the chest. I grab another arrow from my quiver, but I don’t have time to fire it, so I stab the last guy in the neck.
“Who was the target?” I ask Domino, who’s retrieving his tomahawk from a guy’s chest. I do the same with my arrows.
“The one you hit in the eye and this asshole.” He kicks the corpse in the shin. A moan comes from the left, and we both silence it, throwing our weapons at it—him.
“Where’s your gun?” I ask him, it would have gone much faster with bullets.
“Wanted to…diversify.” Diversify?
I take off my bloody jacket and drop it on the filthy floor. It’s an obstacle course with all the used condoms, cans, and corpses.
“Half of the hit money is mine,” I declare, taking pics of the two corpses as proof.
“Thirty percent.” He starts throwing fuel all over the shitty trailer.
“Forty,” I counter, making my way out. I look around, but at this time of night, the place is deserted, or people are too scared to come out.
“Fuck you!” He tosses a lit match over his shoulder as he follows me out. The trailer quickly turns into an inferno as we get into his car and leave. Without my jacket, it’s fucking cold.
“Are we going to have a problem with all those fuckers burning to a crisp?” I’m wearing my mask, the police won’t be on my ass, but Domino isn’t.
“Nope. The client will throw us an extra for a more thorough cleaning.” He smiles, looking ahead as he drives me back to the motel where I left my motorbike.
“I came. Now give it, Domino.” I extend my hand. A few seconds later, he puts an envelope on it.
There’s a pic of a tied-up Marlon Finch inside, the guy who poisoned Dr. Bear-Stone. Vulture has found him and sent him my way.
“Vulture said you owe him one.” The fuck I do.
“Oh, almost forgot, he also told me to pass this on to Ram.” He flips me the bird.
I actually made Vulture and Ramiel virtually meet without them knowing—they both buy and sell information, so it was a good call.
But my real goal was to find more connections to Uri.
“Let me know if you discover anything about those surveillance devices in the office,” I tell him as he stops the car in the motel parking lot and I get out. Even though I’m pretty sure it was Nine’s work.
He nods. “We’ll be waiting for you.”