Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I slow down, eating her more lazily until we’re both covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Working us both up so the fall will be farther.
“I could do this all night,” I murmur. “Would you like that? I could tie you down and eat you out until you’re begging nonstop. Then make you come over and over until you’re so sensitive, every orgasm is torture.”
She moans, and I swirl my tongue around her engorged clit. “But not tonight. Tonight, I’ll go easy on you. You’re going to come for me, Inara, and then you’re going to sleep.” I need her to rest deeply, undisturbed by dreams. I’d give all my wealth to buy her a night of unbroken sleep.
I lick her until she’s shaking. “Do you need a little pain?”
She nods.
“Ask me, then.”
“Please. Please hurt me.”
“Like this?” I slap her between her legs.
Her head jerks back, and her body writhes, tantalizing under her silk nightie. “Yes,” she sighs to the ceiling.
My hand is wet from her sex. I use it to jerk off, stopping when the base of my spine tingles.
Then I slap her again. She rocks from side to side, keening.
Then I close my fingers around her clit and pinch it, hard. She almost levitates off the bed, but when I let go, she starts shaking.
“Come for me now.” I thrust in three fingers this time, stretching her to the point of pain, and that does it. Her sex ripples around me. I could come from this alone. Only years of practiced control keep me from spurting onto the bedspread. “Oh, Inara. You’re so beautiful when you take pain for me.”
I lean in and lap up her essence. She reaches for me, and this time, I gather her wrists and pin them to the bed. More cream pours out of her, making me groan. I have to stop and rise to kneel over her, offering my cock to her mouth.
“I’m going to come.” She takes me in, takes me deep.
She’s so small under me, I have to be careful. But then she strokes her tongue on the underside of my dick, worshipping me. I release her wrists, and she raises her hands and grips my ass, urging me deeper. Her sharp little nails dig into my muscles, and I lose it. My climax ripples up my back, my body going numb with an overload of pleasure. I slide deeper into her mouth and give her my cum, spurt after spurt. I withdraw quickly so I don’t choke her. But she swallows it all.
“Good girl. Such a good girl.” I pull out and move back down her body, finding her hot, wet cunt and fastening my mouth over it, palming her ass and lifting her up so I can devour her. I want her to come a few more times until she’s wrung out and half-conscious. Then I’ll hold her in my arms and watch over her until morning, ready to soothe her if she has another bad dream.
13
Inara
* * *
What a difference a day makes. I walked into work this morning with a bounce to my step. Because of Rex, I’m well rested, and my sex is sated and only a little sore.
Today, my keycard works just fine. Chief Jordan is waiting to escort me to the situation room. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, I ignore the stares and walk to the front to present my profile. It doesn’t matter how I got the attention; I have a platform, and I’m going to use it.
Bonds is in the far corner, studying me with narrowed eyes. I raise my chin and he gives me a wry smile.
Then, I present my findings. I cover the history of the Bondage Killer and his MO. “He’s organized. Displays signs of psychopathy. He has no empathy for his victims. But he was regarded as competent by his coworkers.” I outline his crimes in the barest of details. “He was presumed dead, but his body was never recovered. And I have reason to believe he’s back.”
I pause to click through a slide deck of the letters left at my townhouse. In the back of the room, Silva sidles in and salutes me with his to-go cup. His encouragement helps, and I breeze through the disturbing details of the Bondage Killer’s obsession with me.
“I believe he was surveilling me.” I pause on the letter that rants about how I belong to him. “He saw me interact with a male acquaintance,” I recite dispassionately, “and wrote this letter in response.” I take a sip of water and move on to show pictures of the dead birds left at my apartment.
The room is dead silent as I describe the scene findings by a “private contractor hired by the department to assess the scene.” Rex and I already ran this past Chief Jordan and got permission retroactively.