Anne
I could live in this bath. While Ethan stripped, I stared out at the massive windows. So much greenery. I didn’t have that in London. I not only killed people but also plants. My neighbours all had lovely flowerpots and decorative gardens while I had a monoblocked driveway and fake grass.
I should consider getting fake flowers.
Ethan climbed in and the bath suddenly felt smaller. I shifted forward as he settled behind me.
“Is there a washcloth?” I murmured.
He shifted and returned with a small white face cloth. He dipped it in the water and began to wash my shoulders. I gathered my hair and moved it to the front.
“Where did you see me?” I asked.
“The Ship.”
The pub where I’d met my last project.
“That was almost two months ago.”
“Correct,” he said, running the cloth down my arm.
“What gave me away?”
“Your face changed, but your eyes never did. You didn’t even like him—you were tolerating him. At first I thought you were going to rob him.”
I chuckled.
“I never noticed you noticing me.”
His chest touched my back as the washcloth moved over my thigh, his other hand resting on my waist.
“I wouldn’t be good at what I do if I were noticeable.”
“What now?”
His fingers began to inch downward.
“We see where this goes.”
He pushed his hand between my legs and my head fell back. I could feel him hardening behind me.
“And if it doesn’t work?” I gasped as his fingers brushed against me.
“That’s not an option now, is it?”
My mind reeled.
He was right. Neither of us could trust the other with our secret if things went south. It would come down to who could kill whom first.
His lips brushed against my ear.
“Part of me would love to watch you bleed,” he said, his voice deep and low. “The other part of me wants to keep you safe.”
His fingers brushed against my clit, making me squirm.
“I’ve thought about slicing your belly open and tying your intestines up in a pretty bow,” I whispered. “But that’s because you stuck me in a cage.”
“You don’t want to know what I wanted to slice up when I saw you with the pencil dick in the graveyard.”
His fingers moved lower, parting me.
“He was just work.”
“That’s why you’re alive.”
His lips moved down my neck before his tongue slid back to my ear. He caught my earlobe between his teeth and sucked. His fingers moved in and out. The washcloth was forgotten as his hand moved to my breast.
I moved my hand behind me and felt his cock jerk as I wrapped my fingers around it. The only sounds were the birds outside and our heavy breathing. I twisted my head around and he didn’t hesitate. His lips found mine.
For all the violence downstairs, his kiss was soft and exploratory.
More. I needed more.
I turned around, releasing his cock as his hands wrapped around my waist to help me sit on him. I settled on his thighs, leaving his cock between us.
He wrapped his fingers around my neck and drew me toward him, lips parting before they reached mine. I rested my hands on his shoulders, feeling his strength. It reminded me of what he’d said about safety. There was safety in numbers too.
My eyes closed as I kissed him. Hot breath merging before our tongues tangled together. His fingers moved down my back and rested on my arse.
“Protection,” he murmured.
I opened my eyes, uncertain for a moment. My thumbs moved in circles against his neck.
“I had a hysterectomy,” I said, glancing away.
“All the better,” he murmured, raising me until my breasts hovered over his face.
I relaxed again as his mouth closed around my nipple. I shifted my hips, grinding against his cock.
I had my reasons for never wanting to bring a child into this world, but I wondered what his were.
He sucked hard, swirling his tongue around my nipple until I moaned and reached down for his cock. I guided him toward me.
“Yeah, go on. Sit on my cock,” he said, kissing my chest.
I rubbed the tip against me before sinking down onto him. No wonder he’d called Gareth a pencil dick. He packed a wallop. Ask Eva.
My fingers gripped his shoulders as I raised myself up a few inches before pushing down hard until I felt him fill me. His head tipped back and he hissed.
“Give me that cunt, Anne,” he growled, hands tightening around my waist.
Without warning he began to pump me up and down his cock, thrusting up to meet me each time. He sank lower and I spread my thighs wide, knees touching the bottom of the bath as he bounced me on his dick.
“Yes, right there,” I moaned as he hit deep.
My breasts bounced as I increased the pace.
“Yeah? You like that cock, huh?”
Stupid question. But I nodded, panting as I slammed down on him.
Fucking Dr Ethan Hammond.
Yes.
His fingers shifted and he rubbed my arsehole.
“Are you a little backdoor slut, Anne?” he asked, holding me down on his cock until my pussy clenched around him.
“What do you think?” I gasped.
He smirked and pressed his finger against me. I closed my eyes as he forced me open, pushing inside until I ground down on him.
“Good girl,” he hummed.
I whimpered as he pushed deeper before gripping my cheeks and moving me again.
“Oh, yes,” I cried. “Yes, fuck.”
Inside me.
Penetrating all of me.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he growled, throwing his hips up as he slammed me down.
My pussy clamped around him and the pleasure erupted from my core until my thighs trembled and I couldn’t breathe. He didn’t stop — if anything he fucked me harder, giving me everything I needed as I drenched his cock.
“Fuck, Ethan,” I gasped.
My body shuddered.
Then I felt him throb, and his cum flooded my insides.
“Ahh, yeah,” he groaned, eyes closing.
I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his as he continued to pour into me.
“Anne,” he sighed.
Yeah. I knew how he felt.
And it terrified me.