Chapter 9 #2
Guess the sterling New Bristol police force should keep a better handle on their officers.
“Don’t talk to them again,” Ryker says. He begins unbuttoning his shirt. “I’d tell you to not even talk about true crime on your social media, but I don’t think you’d obey that order.”
My eyes trace his fingers on the buttons. The same fingers that had choked me.
“Mm.” I consider. “You’re probably right. Unless you agreed to visit me far, far more often. But my followers have gotten used to it, so I can’t really stop abruptly. It would be suspicious, wouldn’t it?”
“Very.” Ryker pulls his shirt off, leaving him in a tank top. His arms are well defined, with thick biceps and forearms that were cruelly hidden underneath his shirt.
“Then I guess I can’t stop,” I tell him, my eyes glued to his chest. “I’d hate to arouse suspicion or anything.” I lick my lips, wanting nothing more than to lick a long line down his chest as I sink to my knees in front of him.
But I want more than a blowjob this time.
I want him inside of me.
“Did you fuck him?” Ryker asks while he’s undoing his belt.
I blink at Ryker. “What?” I reply, watching his face. “Did I fuck who?”
“The guy you murdered. Who the fuck else?” Ryker takes the belt out of its loop and folds it over itself. “The news said the last place Reid Bertrand was seen was at a nightclub. So. Did you fuck him?”
The way he asks the question is interesting. There’s something about it I can’t put my finger on.
“No. I wasn’t that stupid,” I say.
I don’t mention the finger.
Fuck, I should’ve cut that off and taken it with me. Why hadn’t I thought about it at the time?
Ryker gets one knee on the bed and looms over me. “Really? Because you’re pretty stupid from where I’m standing. It’s only a matter of time before somebody with a video of the nightclub pops up.”
I scowl at him. “Okay, so no one’s going to recognize me, first of all. And even if they did, we didn’t fuck.”
But if I was a person of interest, they might be able to get my DNA.
Which might be on his fucking finger.
It’s too late to do anything about it. I should probably care, or worry, or something, but I don’t feel any of that. All I feel is a spike of adrenaline that’s only partially to do with Ryker half-dressed in front of me, holding that belt in his hand.
I prop myself up on my elbows. Ryker reaches out and loops the belt around my neck.
My breath hitches as he begins to pull the belt tighter.
“It would serve you right to get murdered right here,” Ryker says.
It really would.
I don’t care about that either.
“Do it,” I dare him, though the words are hard to get out as the belt gets tighter and tighter around my throat. My eyes flutter closed, and I reach down, taking my cock into my hand and giving it a quick stroke.
Maybe this is how it ends.
If it is, I may as well go out with a bang.
Ryker shakes his head, and I still can’t read his expression. “You didn’t fuck Reid. Was your friend right, though? Did you fuck straight Jeremy?”
Why is he asking? I’d ask, but it’s all I can do to drag in a few short breaths. I shake my head instead.
I did let straight Jeremy rail me, though.
It might be semantics, but I hadn’t actually done the fucking.
“I don’t believe you,” Ryker says, right before he slaps me across the face.
It startles me more than it hurts, and I blink again, dazed by the blow.
That’s going to leave a mark. Fuck, how am I going to explain that to Maggie?
Well, one benefit of being dead after this would be not having to figure that out.
“He fucked me,” I wheeze. “For the sake of… of transparency here.”
Ryker barks out a laugh. “Of course. You’re a little slut, too, on top of being a brat.” He loosens the belt a notch, and I can breathe again.
I’m still sucking in large lungfuls of air when Ryker grabs my hips and forces me onto my stomach. He slaps my ass twice in quick succession.
I moan, lifting my ass in the air for him. “I mean…” I say, breathless but unable to keep my mouth shut. “Yeah? Life’s too short for celibacy.”
“Quality over quantity,” Ryker says as he spanks my ass again. “Spread wider. I need to see if you’re worth getting into.”
Oh, fuck.
I’d better be.
“You never showed,” I counter, spreading my legs wide. I reach back and spread my ass cheeks, too, giving him a good look at my hole.
“We aren’t all trust fund babies.” Ryker pushes a dry thumb against the sensitive skin around my hole. “Some of us work for a living.”
“I have obligations! Like all the charity events. So many of those.”
Ryker laughs. “Yeah? Like the one your friend got you out of?” He slaps my hole, and I yelp. “Do you even know what the charities are for?”
“Um.” I’m too distracted, too frazzled, to think of a single one. “Children. Always about the kids.”
The belt is still looped around my neck. The tail of it is trailed over my shoulder. All he has to do is pull, and I’ll be choking again.
Do it, I beg internally.
Ryker raises his hand—and brings it down hard on my balls.
This time, I screech. “What the—” I begin, only for him to slap my balls again.
My vision whites out, and I can’t catch my breath.
“I wonder how many you can take,” Ryker says. He fondles my balls, a gentle touch this time, but I’m still tense from the pain. “How does fifteen sound?”
“Fif-fifteen?” I squawk. “Um, no. No. That’s too… No.”
My poor cock has started to soften, shriveling up between my thighs.
Ryker leans over me and drapes his body across my back. “Fifteen, and I’ll fuck you,” he growls against my ear.
“Twelve,” I reply, a full-body shudder running through me. “You’ve already done three.”
“Fifteen, or I leave right now and find somebody who can take it all,” Ryker threatens.
I whine, my shoulders slumping. “Fine,” I say. “Fifteen, but then you fuck me, and I get to come. None of that orgasm denial bullshit.”
“If you can come with my cock in your ass, sure,” Ryker says. He kneels up again, and I miss his warmth immediately.
I also miss knowing where his hands are.
I look over my shoulder to meet his gaze.
His cheeks are flushed red, and he’s grinning wildly. There’s violence in his eyes, too, the kind of wild lust that no other man has ever shown me.
I’ve never felt so ferociously desired before, and now that I’ve felt it, I’m not sure I want to go without it again.
Every other fuck has been almost transactional, boring, but this?
This promises to be unforgettable.
“Do it,” I tell him, wetting my lips with my tongue.
Ryker grins before slapping his hand down to my balls once more.
White-hot pain slices through me, and I cry out again. Fuck. How am I supposed to handle fifteen of these? I won’t be hard by the time he’s done, but… all he has to do is tighten that belt and get his cock near my hole, and I’m sure that’ll change.
He slaps me three times in quick succession, each one leaving me sweating and breathing ragged.
“Fuck,” Ryker groans. He pulls on the belt, just once, and I moan in response to the constriction. “You’re such a desperate little slut.”
“Yessss,” I hiss. My balls already ache, and between the haze descending over me and the pain, there’s an edge of nausea, too. But it’s worth it to get what I want.
I’ll deal with this and more to have him fucking me senseless.
“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.” Ryker slaps my balls again, and the pain is so intense that I miss what he says next. His words slide over my ears, his deep rumbling voice soothing the pain.
I gasp and clutch at the bed sheets.
“Beg for more,” Ryker says. “Spread wider, show me those balls, and beg for more.”
I don’t know if I can handle much more, though he’s not slapping me nearly as hard as he had at first. But if I want him to fuck me, I have to take it.
I’m going to be feeling this tomorrow.
I spread wider, lifting my ass up higher in the air, and gasp out, “More. More, please. God, please fuck me, Ryker. Please, I need—” I shudder, both dreading and looking forward to the next strike that’ll bring me one step closer to him taking my ass.
Ryker’s hand comes down on my balls.
It’s the hardest slap yet. The nausea flares as the pain overwhelms me.
I howl and snap my legs together, curling into myself. I realize at some point, I’ve started crying. No one has ever hurt me like this before.
Ryker bursts out laughing.
I whine low in my throat, a pathetic animal sound, and I shake my head. There’s no way I can get turned on after this. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s slapped me, but I can’t take any more of it.
“That’s what I thought.” Ryker grabs my shoulder and forces me onto my back.
I try to cover my face with my arms, but Ryker pushes my wrists down onto the bed. His hands are large and rough on my skin.
“Look at me,” Ryker barks. “Show me your tears, brat.”
I sob, but I look up at him through my tears, trying to blink them back out of my vision. I don’t know what to make of the look on his face, but it has my body wanting to react. He wants me.
He wants me in a visceral way, with an impossible hunger that I can’t describe, and I whimper as I lift my ass.
“Please fuck me,” I choke out. “Please.”
Ryker lets go of one wrist and wipes a tear from the corner of my eye. “Sure. Your hands stay right there on the bed. Got it?”
I nod quickly. I can do that.
I think.
I want to reach up for him, though, to drag him closer. Would he kiss me? What would his kisses be like? Rough and hard, like everything else? His tongue plunging into my mouth and exploring it thoroughly?
I want it.
I want him.
Ryker sits back and finally undoes his fly. I practically drool when he gets his—yes, very hard—cock out. He strokes himself a few times, his hand going up to cover the head and then down again.
A drop of pre-cum leaks out, and I lick my lips.
Ryker shakes his head with a smile, then reaches into his pocket.
He pulls out a condom.
Disappointment courses through me, stupid as that is. I don’t usually go bare, but with Ryker, I wish I could.