Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Aven
The door swings open, and Quinn smiles up at me. “I was hoping it would be you,” she says, and the sincerity in her voice drives a knife through my soul.
She’s falling for the green stranger, not me. Not Aven. If she knew who was hiding behind this monstrous green unitard from hell, she wouldn’t be so eager to invite me into her room.
But she doesn’t know, so she’s more than eager. She practically wrenches my wrist from my forearm as she yanks me into her lair.
I stumble to a stop inside and head for the chair. That little seat in the corner means safety. It puts distance between us. The arms on the sides will prevent her from straddling my waist and pulling my soul from my body like some sex-starved succubus. I’m genuinely scared.
But before I can plop my ass onto the cushion, she reaffirms her iron hold and guides me toward the bed. The girl wants to fuck a killer more than she wants to take her next breath, and if I hadn’t taken that final bid, she might have gotten either outcome. Or both.
It was stupid of me, but I couldn’t help myself.
In those last thirty seconds, I called Jim and told him he could take a cut from my bonus.
Hell, I told him he could take the entire thing.
Not so that I can sleep with her, of course.
I just want to make sure she’s safe, and I don’t think letting her spend the night with Desmond would have netted that result.
Jim didn’t like it, but he’s also a fair man.
He allowed the final bid at zero hour, and I won an evening with the girl.
Now what?
I may not have thought this far ahead, but I can tell what she has in mind.
As I sit beside her on the edge of the bed, her hand traces soft, lazy lines up my forearm.
Goosebumps rise beneath the millimeter of nylon fabric separating me from her touch, and my cock strains against my boxer briefs and pokes through the embarrassing hole I ripped in the suit during my last visit.
Quinn notices, and her hand moves toward my crotch. I want her to grip my dick, but not like this. Not under false pretenses, when she doesn’t know whose dick she’s grabbing. I jump to my feet before her slender fingers can grace my manhood.
With a shake of my head, I show her the tablet in my hand.
I knew I’d need some way to communicate other than head nods and hand signals.
There’s no telling how long it took Grim and Rose to learn to speak the way they have, but we lack the time and patience.
I pull out the Apple Pencil and scrawl a note on the screen.
I just want to spend time with you. No sex.
Quinn reads the message and sits back a bit. Her shoulders sag, and while I’ve seen my share of disappointment after I’ve turned a woman down, I’ve never seen someone represent the emotion so fully. Her lower lip pokes out, not in that fake pout I’ve seen so often, but in a genuine show of hurt.
I erase the message and think of something that might ease the ache a bit.
Could we cuddle?
I almost jotted “lass” at the end, but I caught myself and popped the question mark into place instead. When I turn the tablet to face her, some light returns to her eyes.
“Sure, we can do that,” she says. Quinn shuffles around until she’s lying on her side, then looks back at me. “The activity requires both of us to participate, though.”
Shit, she’s right. I’m just sitting here watching her. It’s what I’m used to doing. I’m not accustomed to participation where she’s involved.
I recline on my side and try not to think of the way the lime-green hood smashes my nose against my face. At least she can’t see me. No, she can’t see me . . . but she can feel me. As her ass eases toward my lap, I scoot my hips away from her.
“Oh, come on,” she titters. “I don’t bite. Not with that end, at least.”
She takes my arm and bands it around her waist, then rams her soft ass against my stiff dick.
I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath, but it doesn’t help.
My lungs fill with the toasted-vanilla scent that is so uniquely hers.
Her hand takes mine and raises my eager fingertips to her chest, and against my better judgment, I let it happen.
“See?” she whispers. “This feels good.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. It does.
I damn near whimper when a moan eases out of her. My fingers aren’t moving over her nipple, but they don’t need to. She’s forcing them over that tight bud, squeezing and pinching and teaching me the pressure she needs. She wants me to take over and give it to her myself. I want that too.
But I can’t do it.
I pull my hand away and place it on her hip. This isn’t right. Even aside from her being the primary, everything about this is wrong. If she knew it was me, she wouldn’t want my hands all over her, and continuing to touch her like this feels dirty in a way I can’t abide.
Quinn sighs and rolls over to face me. Her hand goes toward the suit’s hood, and I pull back.
“Relax,” she says with a playful roll of her eyes. “I wasn’t going to unmask you. I just wanted to caress your cheek. Like this.”
When she reaches out again, I let her hand land on my face. Her thumb slowly strokes my cheekbone as her head tilts to the side.
“I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done,” she says, and I struggle to stop the Backstreet Boys chorus from bursting out of my mouth. I’ve never seen the girl look quite so serious, and I need to listen to whatever she’s saying, tits and catchy songs be damned.
I grab the tablet from the nightstand and write another note.
If you knew my identity, you wouldn’t want me to touch you. I shouldn’t have come here.
There. Now I’ll just make my exit. I just needed to know she’d be safe, and I’ve done that. When Quinn tells this story tomorrow, no one will even know it was me. Well, except for Jim and King, but they won’t say anything if they like breathing air.
I go to stand, but Quinn grabs my hand.
“I meant what I said. I don’t care who you are.
” Still gripping my hand, she sits on her knees.
“Listen, let me level with you, Green Guy. This is as much for you as it is for me. I’ve spent the last ten years of my life masturbating to the thought of some unhinged psycho chasing me through the woods and ravaging me once he catches me.
This is as close as I’m going to get, and you aren’t taking that away from me.
I don’t care if you’re Jim, Eve, or that asshole across the hall.
I don’t even care if you have a massive knife or a massive cock in those boxers.
One way or another, I’m getting impaled tonight! ”
She can’t see it, but my jaw drops. I mean, technically, the lass did say she doesn’t care if I’m the asshole across the hall . . .
I shake off her hand, get to my feet, and turn to face her.
With my fists clenched at my sides, I finally see that beautiful fear in her eyes again.
She scoots backward on the bed, a nervous smile playing at the edges of her mouth.
She smooths her hair, trying to look calmer than she is, but it won’t work.
I’ve seen what I do to her, even in this non-threatening suit.
“That’s more like it,” she whispers in spite of her fear. “Which is it, though? Are you going to kill me or fuck me?” She sends her hair flying as she shakes her head. “No, don’t tell me. I want it to be a surprise.”
God, she is so fucked. And so am I.
I drop on top of her and wrap my hand around her throat.
Her legs kick out as she tries to fight me off, but I just tighten my grip as genuine panic takes hold in her frantic gaze.
Using my hips, I force my way between her trembling thighs until my rock-hard dick presses painfully against her.
Only our damned undergarments stand between us.
Her fingers find my hand, and she digs her nails into my flesh, desperate to claw me off of her. Still, I refuse to release her. I look into her face as the light dims. I grind myself against her, reminding her that she asked for this.
Just before she passes out, I let go and pin her arms above her head so that she can’t scramble away. She gulps air, her breasts rising and falling at a rapid tempo as consciousness slams into her.
“Fuck,” she cries. “At least we’ve established that you won’t kill me.”
I nod. Good girl. She gets it. Maybe we aren’t so far off from that telepathic-communication thing after all.
Her head is still swimming as I wrap my hand around her slender throat again. This time, I apply a blood choke, robbing her brain of everything it wants. The impact hits much faster, and the lass practically trembles with fear when I release her.
“What the fuck was that?” she whispers. Her eyes somehow find mine beneath the mask. “God, I’m shaking. It felt like balancing on a knife’s edge between heaven and hell.” She licks her lips and smiles. “Do it again.”
My fingers find their home around her throat, and I squeeze. My cock practically throbs against her; I’m so turned on. She struggles against death this time, and her hips rock her glorious mound against my cock. It’s not enough. I want more.
I release her and rip the boxers open. I’ll need a new underwear budget after this trip, but no matter.
If destroying my entire wardrobe gets me closer to the girl, I’ll learn to do without.
I lean forward and slide my iron dick through her panty-covered slit.
I know right where to aim—that dark spot in the emerald fabric. She’s soaked.
Quinn’s eyes dance as I release her again. Her head rolls to the side, and she smiles as I drag my cock through the mess she’s created. I never knew a man dressed in a big green condom could do it for a woman, but here we are.
“I know we’re all disease-free here, thanks to Jim’s rigorous medical tests, but if you’re worried about pregnancy, the condoms are in the drawer.” She motions to the nightstand. “I have an implant, so I’m not concerned. But it’s up to you.”
I’m not sure where I expected all this choking and thrusting to lead, and I don’t know how I didn’t expect us to get to sex eventually, but my mouth still runs dry now that we’ve reached this crossroads. I have a decision to make.
But as I look down at the woman beneath me, I know there was never any choice in the matter. Even if my mouth were to form the word no, my voice would offer a resounding yes.
I drag the head through her wet heat, and she grinds against me.
She’s practically begging me to split her in half, but that isn’t what I want.
While I love to see the fear in her eyes, and while I would love to administer a little pain to the brat, what I want more than anything is to see her face when she comes.
Not that fake shit she does for her viewers, but a real orgasm that is brought about by my hand.
Or cock. Or tongue. The lass can take her pick.
Especially with the way she’s looking up and whimpering. Her hands fall to her tits, and she pinches her nipples as she begs me with her eyes. She doesn’t even know what she’s asking for, but she wants it. She wants it so fucking bad.
As I draw her panties to the side and slip my dick between her pussy lips, her eyes widen. “Are you . . . pierced?”
I nod.
“Like, how pierced?”
I take her hand and guide it toward my cock, finally allowing her to touch me. Her fingers search until they wrap around my girth. Her thumb finds the piercing through the head of my cock, and she strokes it as she nibbles her bottom lip.
“Will I be able to feel it?” she asks. “I’ve never been with a pierced guy before.”
With her panties still pulled to the side, I drag the piercing through her slit and grind the metal nub against her clit. Her eyes roll in her head as she grips the comforter.
“Fuck, I can definitely feel it,” she says through a moan.
I pin her arms above her head again, and she closes her eyes and braces herself. I have the pleasure of watching every expression she makes. Behind this mask, I’m free to explore her all I want.
As I stroke and tease her, I revel in each sigh, each nibble of her lip. I live for the way she whimpers and writhes. I’d die for the way her heat feels on my skin. I’ll probably die once it’s taken away, but I can’t think about that right now. For tonight, she’s my only thought.
My cock throbs along with the beat of my heart, and I can’t take it any longer. I lean forward and sink inside her. Despite the monster dildos I’ve watched her cram in this perfect cunt, she’s as tight as a bigot’s asshole in a prison shower. Tighter, maybe. I hold still, afraid to move inside her.
She reaches between us and grips the base of my cock, then squeezes for all it’s worth, and I damn near fill her right then. I cannae be a minute man now! To stop her from squeezing, I give a few gentle thrusts that rock her breasts beneath the gauzy green material.
This position gives me too much visual stimuli, so I grab her thighs and rotate her onto her side.
She lets out a squeal as I complete the maneuver and slide in behind her until my green suit melds with her skin.
I tuck an arm under her right thigh and raise it as high as I can, giving me a straight angle to sink into her again. And I do.
And it’s fucking heaven.
Her pussy clamps down again, and I realize I’m not the only one struggling to fend off a premature explosion. She isn’t just tight; she’s already on the verge of an orgasm.
Not one to miss an opportunity, I reach for her pussy and stroke her swollen clit as I thrust. I start slow, ratcheting the pace and pressure until she’s about to break my dick off inside her. Just when I think I can’t take another second, it happens. Quinn Parker comes all over my cock.
I feel like I’m in a dream as her eyes roll and her mouth contorts. She tries to keep quiet by gritting her teeth and breathing through it, but I fuck her harder and force the pleasure out of her. She cries out finally, gripping the comforter as a light sweat slicks her chest.
When she’s finished convulsing against me, I pull out of her and grab the tablet.
Quinn sits up, frantic, her golden waves falling around her face like she’s some sort of starlet. In a way, she is. After this, she’ll star in my fantasies until the day I die.
“Where are you going?” she asks. “Don’t you want to stay the night? You didn’t pay ten grand to make me come.”
I pull the pencil from its holder and scribble a message on the tablet.
Actually, that’s exactly what I paid for.
I exit her room, leaving her confused on the bed. As much as I want to spend a night with my arms wrapped around her, it’s a risk I can’t take. I’ve risked enough as it is, and I’ve already got the next risk in mind.