Chapter 3
THREE
LILITH
Dear Diary,
I want this man next to me to do very bad things to me.
Why do I have this feeling he would gladly do them?
xox
I haven’t even asked him his name.
I’m not sure I can.
He’s attractive. Way more attractive than Deven. This man exudes authority. It’s palpable in the air surrounding him. Even after several glasses of vodka, I still sense his commanding presence.
I’ve seen him in here before. Always by himself… working or watching. He’s always watched me when I come in.
He’s an oxymoron.
Always in a suit, yet his demeanor exudes relaxed comfort.
His hair is unruly, yet it’s the perfect look for him.
He exudes wealth, even though he doesn’t seem the type to flaunt it.
“That excites you?” he asks, and I turn away from him.
I shouldn’t have smiled.
He’ll think I’m crazy now.
But death interests me.
Maybe I should have gotten a job as a coroner.
No, fuck that. I dream of cutting into people when they’re alive, not after they’re dead.
“What’s your real job?” I ask, not answering his question.
“I own Patrick’s Aviation,” he tells me, watching me intently as if waiting for my reaction to his words.
I recall hearing of it. I think I saw it on a Forbes list once.
“So, you fly planes?”
“Among other things.”
“You don’t kill people?” I ask, hoping he can’t read the extreme interest pouring from me right now. “I think you should come home with me,” I add when he doesn’t say anything.
“If I kill people, your sense of judgment would be terrible right now,” he says, studying me.
“You never know. Maybe I’m hoping you’ll kill me…
or my pussy.” I wink at him. Something about this man intrigues me, and I am hoping he will do things to my body that will make me feel, compared to the dead inside feeling that my husband inflicted.
Even after I settled for him, hoping that one day I might feel normal with a husband, but instead, mine went and cheated on me—the bastard.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Lilith.”
He smirks. “Is that real or made up?”
Reaching into my purse, I pull out my ID and show it to him. He eyes me before he nods.
“What’s yours?”
“Reon.”
Scrunching up my nose, I say, “That’s a weird name.”
“If you say so.”
I down the rest of my vodka before I turn back to him. “Ready to go?”
He throws money on the counter and stands. “Where?”
“To fuck, where else.”
“Why so eager? Wouldn’t you prefer I take you out for dinner first?” Reon questions.
“How often do you do that?” I ask, my hand going to my hip. I don’t want this to be complicated. I want this to be fun. It’s something I haven’t done in a long time.
“Well…” He thinks about it. “Never.”
“You’ve never been married?” I ask.
“Nope.”
“Good. It’s overrated.”
Turning, I stride to the door and pull it open. The night air hits me first, and then I feel the alcohol hit me even harder. With what I had at home, plus here, I’m just over the line of tipsy but not drunk enough to forget everything that happened today. “What’s the time?”
“Seven,” he answers, and I smile. That means Deven will likely be asleep—his job demands that he start early because something so mundane as fucking his co-host would not affect his routine, or you know, the fact that his marriage is falling apart.
“When was the last time you had sex?” I ask, heading down the street, with him following behind me. I don’t live too far from here. Deven likes living closer to the city, but I hate it.
I’d prefer to live on a large plot of land without neighbors.
Fuck everyone.
“Maybe I should have asked if you’re a serial killer,” Reon says as he comes up next to me, his hands sliding into his pockets.
I stop and turn to him.
His jaw is sharp, and his eyes see more than they should.
I feel as though, like mine, they may be a little dead inside.
His crisp black suit and tie exude an air of class—one that makes me second-guess this, but then I see the ink peeking out.
I notice a few tattoos on his fingers and a ring on his index finger.
He has a light stubble, but the perfect kind that blends into his hair. Nothing about him appears out of place.
Deven has sandy-blond hair, a body that most would deem a dad bod—although we did plan on having children—and a contagious smile.
I never liked men who were cut and chiseled.
Most of the time, their arrogance overshadowed their ability to fuck, and I grew bored too quickly.
It was Deven’s smile that won me over. That, and his personality.
Both were attractive and gave me an inkling of normalcy.
Something that told me I wasn’t completely dead on the inside.
“I mean, I thought about it,” I muse aloud.
“You never know who you might meet in a bar. For all you know, I could be a black widow, picking up poor, unsuspecting men in bars. I could fuck you within an inch of your life and finish the job straight after. But these are two-thousand-dollar shoes, and I refuse to ruin them with your blood.” I glance down at my heels, then back up to him to see his gaze stuck on my shoes. And then it travels up my legs.
I turn and start walking again, and he follows.
He could kill me at any moment, and a part of me is excited at that thought, while another part wants him to wait until I get home.
When we reach my street, I stop and turn back to him. “Is this the first time you’ve done something like this?” I ask, and he nods. Then I wonder why, so I ask him, “Why?”
He doesn’t respond.
I bite my lip to keep from saying more and possibly scaring him away.
Instead, I walk up to my house, unlock the door, and push it open.
I’m careful not to make too much noise. He steps in behind me and shuts the door.
Not turning on any lights, I reach for his hand—it’s hard and calloused—and pull him with me to the living room.
Letting go of his hand, I undo the buttons of my shirt and drop it to the floor, leaving me in a red lacy bra.
After shimmying my skirt down my thighs, I go to take off the high heels and think better of it. I’ll keep them on.
Deven hates me wearing shoes inside.
Reon watches me, not moving, simply appreciating everything he sees. I know he is by the sweep of his gaze as he takes me in. It is dark, with the moon shining through the wide bay windows, providing the only light.
“You are very striking,” Reon says.
“And you still have on clothes.”
He smirks and sheds his jacket, then starts to unknot his tie. I step forward and reach for his belt while his gaze tracks my movements.
“I could kill you now, you know. You’re so vulnerable, letting a stranger into your house,” he whispers, sending a shiver of excitement through me.
“How would you do it?” I ask as I pull his belt free and let it drop to the floor. Next, I go for his fly, unbuttoning it and lowering the zipper. His tie falls to the floor, and then he undoes his shirt buttons one by one until I can see muscle and ink.
My mouth waters at the sight of him.
He is beautiful.
His pants drop, and soon he is naked. He has muscular, thick thighs, and his cock is large and manicured perfectly. I clench my thighs at the sight of it. He has a delicious trail of hair leading down. He is stunning in his pinstripe suits but naked… He’s a work of sensual art.
Pure perfection.
He reaches for me, his hand sliding around my waist.
“You need to have protection,” I tell him.
His other hand goes to my chin and lifts it up, so I have to look at him. Even with me wearing heels, he’s taller than I am. I’m the same height as Deven when I am wearing my heels.
“In my pants, which you took off.”
I kneel down and reach into his pocket. Finding the condom, I pull it out and then tear it open with my teeth, remaining on my knees.
Looking up at him, I put the condom in my mouth and suck it back, holding the edges, before I reach out and grab his cock.
He tsks at me, but I don’t stop as I lean forward and wrap my lips around his cock, and put the condom on him with my mouth.
Using my hands, I slide it all the way down and then take him in deep, just once, before I release him and stand.
His cock was hard the minute his pants dropped.
And it’s a lot bigger than Deven’s.
I wonder if he can break me when he fucks me.
I look forward to finding out.
I step back as he steps forward, but he reaches for me, entrapping me with an arm around my waist, pulling me to him slowly.
I feel his hardness, and my pussy pulses with need.
His other hand comes between us, and he slips it into my G-string until he finds my pussy and slides his fingers through my slit and smirks.
“Look at this. You’re wet for me already, Caterpillar?” I scrunch my nose up at that name, but he slides a finger inside me. I gasp as he leans down to quietly say, “I’m going to turn you around, bend you over, and push straight into you.”
And then he does it.
He puts the finger that was inside me into his mouth and sucks it before tearing my G-string off my body.
The pain is welcomed; I can feel myself getting wetter from the small action, leaving me breathless and even squirming with need.
He grips my hair, twirling it around his wrist, and tightens his hold before he leans me forward.
His other hand slaps my bare ass before I feel him at my entrance.
I’m breathing heavily now, and fuck if this isn’t the best feeling in the world.
As he slides inside me, he once again leans close and whispers in my ear, “I’m going to fuck you until you almost come.
And when you finally fall over the edge, I’ll wrap my belt around your throat.
And as the life drains from your perfect body, I’ll fill you up with my cum.
” His words make every nerve ending inside me come alive, and I shiver in anticipation.
My body screaming for him to fuck me into oblivion.
I’ve never wanted to be fucked so badly by someone.
This stranger who could really be a serial killer for all I know.
But right now, I don’t care because, for the first time in a long time, I feel alive.
He pushes in deeper and starts to move. His hand yanks at my hair as he thrusts in and out of me as his mouth lands on my shoulder, and a sting follows as his other hand grabs my breast and squeezes.
“Do it,” I tell him, panting now, and he fucks me faster, harder.
Pulling at my hair, grabbing my breast, pinching and pulling the hardened nub in an almost painful manner, making me feel it all the way down between my legs.
His hand then trails down to my clit, and he applies pressure, moving his fingers over it as screams rip at my throat.
I haven’t been fucked like this before. As if I’m not stuck in a glass box, a place I’ve felt trapped in. Until now, as Reon touches and fucks me as if he isn’t afraid to break me. It’s intoxicating, to say the least.
“There we are, Caterpillar. Now, do you want me to strangle you?” I nod as his hands move.
He pauses his thrusts, and my pussy screams for him to keep driving into me, but then I feel the cold leather of the belt go around my neck.
He starts to move again, and as he does he tightens it as he fucks me, and every thrust forward has the belt tightening just a little more.
I love it so much I want to beg for him to choke me to the brink and keep hold while I burst wide open and come all over his cock.
As if he reads my mind, he tightens his hold, and the lights flick on right as I’m about to hit the peak.
“What the actual fuck, Lil?” someone screams.
Oh, good, my husband has decided to join us.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I tell Reon. He chuckles, and I feel him pounding into me even harder, over and over again, and all the while, Deven is standing off to the side, ranting and red-faced.
I close my eyes, shutting the temper tantrum out, concentrating on the bite of the belt on my skin, the heat and weight of Reon at my back, his deep thrusts, and feral grunts as he draws closer to coming inside of me.
I burst apart at the seams, my orgasm ricocheting through me, my muscles squeezing every last drop of cum from Reon, my fingers clawing at the belt in pure elation.
I can feel him inside of me, his thrusts turning slower, and then he is pulling out of me.
I stand, the belt falling to the floor. And I fall along with it.
I turn over so I’m on my back and looking up.
Reon smiles down at me, then gives me a wink before he reaches for his clothes. I grab the belt. “I’ll keep this.”
“If you say so.” He dresses as I hear Deven’s footsteps walk closer.
“Who the fuck are you, and why are you fucking my wife?”
Reon turns to me, his eyes narrowed, and I merely smile. He looks back at Deven, and I watch as it registers before he looks back at me.
“This the dick that fucked someone in your pool?” I nod, the smile not leaving my face.
Reon’s now dressed, and Deven is looking at us, his expression registering complete surprise.
“The pleasure was all mine,” Reon says to me, then walks out without a backward glance or a thanks for letting me fuck you.
I lie here in nothing but my tattered bra, wearing a big smile on my face.
That was literally the best sex of my life.
“Are you really smiling right now? I just caught you fucking someone else in our home, Lil.”
He did not just say that to me.
“And it was so good. You could learn a thing or two. Oh, that’s right, you did. You already fucked someone in our home. Multiple times, I assume, right?”
“You have bite marks on your shoulders.” He ignores me, but I’m past the point of caring. I grin as I try to see them. “And marks on your neck.” I finally turn my gaze to Deven and witness the sad, pathetic man I married.
I hate him.
And his lousy dick.
“I guess now that you’ve had your payback, we can put this behind us,” he says, wishfully thinking, or trying to play me for a fool again. Either way, I’m not buying.
“No! Now I’m leaving.” I stand and don’t even bother dressing before I walk up the stairs and pack a suitcase. I throw on some clothes, then walk out of that house and don’t look back.
Fuck him and his stupid flaccid dick.