CHAPTER 6 #2
“Look at you,” I growled, watching her with hooded eyes. “On your knees worshipping my balls like a good girl. You love this, don’t you? Love being my dirty little secret out here in the woods.”
She released my balls with a wet pop and returned to my cock, sucking harder, gagging as she took me to the back of her throat, slobbering messily until my entire shaft glistened.
With a final, obscene pop, she pulled off, strings of saliva connecting her lips to my tip.
She stood, kissing me fiercely, letting me taste myself on her tongue.
I lifted her effortlessly, setting her on the wide edge of the tub and laying her back. I spread her legs wide, revealing her alluring pussy—pink lips engorged and slick, that wild brown patch above her swollen clit.
“Look at this pretty, dripping pussy,” I murmured, licking my lips. “So wet and ready for my tongue. You’re aching for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, her voice trembling with need. “Please, Joshua. Eat me. Make me cum on your face.”
I dove in, my tongue running up and down her slit, savoring her sweet, musky taste mixed with the shower water. I kissed her labia, sucking gently, making her shudder and moan loudly. “Joshua… oh fuck!”
I kissed the patch of hair, then her clit, licking slowly at first before nibbling and slurping with focused intensity. She cried out, fingers tangling tightly in my blonde hair, hips bucking against my mouth. “Right there! Don’t stop—eat my pussy, baby! You’re so good at this!”
I devoured her relentlessly, sucking her clit like it was the only thing keeping me alive, my tongue flicking fast and firm. Her legs shook violently, toes curling, head thrown back in ecstasy. “I’m cumming! Joshua, I’m cumming so fucking hard on your tongue!”
She exploded, soaking my face with her juices in powerful waves.
I lapped up every drop greedily, then kissed up her trembling belly, sucking each stiff pink nipple hard—pulling, biting gently, swirling my tongue—before claiming her mouth again so she could taste herself.
“You taste like heaven, Amanda. So sweet and wet for me.”
While our tongues danced in a deep, passionate kiss, I positioned my thick cock at her entrance and thrust in deep. She moaned loudly into my mouth, her walls clenching around me.
“Yes! Fill me up—you’re so big, stretching me so perfectly!”
Her pussy gripped me like a velvet fist, hot and tight, clinging as if it never wanted to let go. I thrust deeper, water cascading over my back and ass as I fucked her against the wall. “Take every inch, baby. This tight pussy awesome. Feel how deep I’m going?”
She wrapped her arms around my neck, nails digging into my shoulders. “Fuck me harder, Joshua! God, I’ve needed this so bad!”
I lifted her fully, her legs locking around my waist. Standing under the spray, I fucked her hard and deep, her breasts bouncing against my chest, her cries echoing off the tiles. “Yes! Right there—don’t stop! You’re gonna make me cum again!”
Her walls pulsed wildly as she came, milking my cock with rhythmic spasms. The sensations were overwhelming—hot, slick, perfect. I kept thrusting through her orgasm, driving her higher until I exploded deep inside her, filling her with thick ropes of cum.
“Take it all, Amanda. Feel me cumming inside you.”
She slid down, dropping to her knees once more to suck me clean, her tongue swirling lovingly until I was spent. “Mmm, I love your taste mixed with mine.”
We lingered under the water with tender touches and soft laughter, washing each other with care. Afterward, I pulled on boxers that clung to my still-sensitive body; she slipped into lacy lingerie that accentuated every curve.
Dinner on the balcony was magical—the night air cool and fresh, moonlight gleaming on the lake like scattered diamonds, a light rain beginning to patter. We ate her simple but delicious supper, the conversation flirtatious and laced with dirty promises.
“You fucked me so good in there,” she whispered, leaning close over the table, her foot teasing up my leg. “I’ve never cum like that. I think I’m falling for you, Joshua. Hard.”
“I feel it too,” I replied, my hand covering hers, though the mission still whispered in the back of my mind. Her body and eagerness were dangerously addictive, but the code remained.
Later, as she slept peacefully beside me, her breathing soft and trusting, the rain fell heavily. I retrieved the chloroform and handkerchief. The act was swift, merciful in its gentleness. She stirred only briefly before going limp.
Dressed in raincoat and boots, shovel in hand, I carried her to the Jeep. The drive up the hill through the downpour was charged with adrenaline and the weight of finality. At my secret spot, I dug in the soft earth as the storm raged. When she began to stir, I was ready.
“Look at me,” I said softly.
Her eyes fluttered open, groggy. “Joshua? What’s… happening? Where are we?”
I kissed her one last time, a beautiful, tragic farewell. “Take your last breath, beautiful.”
The blade sang across her throat. The rush—the hot crimson, the power, the release after so long—was intoxicating. I placed her in the grave, covered her with earth and her phone, the rain washing away all traces.
I stood over the site for a full minute, my hands resting on the handle of the shovel. “Rest now,” I murmured into the quiet forest. “You were more than the ledger required.”
I drove back to the cabin as the first pale light of dawn began to bleed through the eastern trees.
The building was empty, the kitchen still holding the faint aroma of the supper we had shared.
I began a meticulous, clinical sweep of the rooms, wiping down every surface, removing every trace of her presence until the cabin looked exactly as it had when the caretaker finished his cleaning.
While packing her duffle bag to prepare it for destruction, my fingers brushed against a small, leather-bound volume tucked into the bottom compartment. Her diary.
I sat on the edge of the empty bed, flipping open the pages to the final entries.
Her handwriting was small, hurried, filled with a raw, emotional intensity that detailed her thoughts about me over the past three weeks.
“He’s the only one who truly listens,” she had written.
“He makes me feel like the ground beneath my feet is solid again.
I want to build something real with him, something that isn't broken.”
I closed the book, a small, unfamiliar pang of regret tightening in my throat.
The words were a testament to a future that had never truly existed, a layout of potential that my code had deemed too dangerous to allow.
The past was fixed; the ink had already dried.
I carried the bag and the book out to the stone firepit behind the cabin, watching the flames reduce her thoughts and her linen dress to gray ash that scattered into the morning breeze.
I locked the cabin door, placing the brass key back beneath the coir mat, and climbed into the Jeep for the long drive back to the city.
The passenger seat beside me was completely empty, the leather cold beneath the morning sun.
The only reminder of the weekend was the faint, lingering scent of jasmine perfume caught in the climate vents.
I reached into my pocket, pulling out the stencil knife, the platinum handle completely clean, completely sterile once more.
I held the knife to my nose, inhaling the metallic scent, a smile forming as thoughts turned to Ciara.
She was the next entry in my ledger. The vibrant, clean-eyed girl from across the street who spent her days watching the neighborhood children.
She was a far more complicated problem—a subject who didn't carry Amanda’s obvious fractures, but who represented a deeper, far more challenging puzzle for the structure I had built.
I adjusted the rearview mirror, my blue eyes clear and focused as the city skyline rose to meet me.