Page 39 of Death Kiss

Not like this.

Before I can stop, I’m on my knees, her black trousers around her ankles and my mouth on her cunt. I’ve been addicted since the first taste, and I’ll beg for more until I physically can’t anymore.

Her tears still fall, but her fingers tighten in my hair, knowing that she is the only thing keeping me together. Through the lies. Through the murder.

She’s all I need.

The only one I’ve ever needed.

‘I love you,’ I say between licks and sucks, her sweet flesh pulsating against my tongue.

Her moan rounds off with a sob, and I hate myself for what’s going on with me.

Or maybe I just hate myself.

Seeing her cry is the last thing I want.

I drive my tongue deeper, suck harder, push until she’s quivering against my face.

‘Oh god,’ she whimpers, her thighs trembling. I’m so fucking hard, that I rock my hips, the seam of my zip rubbing against the head of my dick and making me moan.

‘Come for me, baby,’ I demand, before nipping at her lips hard enough to make her squeal. That does it for her; she always needs that bit of pain to fall over the edge. My head swims with tortured pleasure as I grind my hips against the air.

I drink in her wetness, her cunt sliding against my chin as an orgasm rips through her. Using bloodied hands, I pin her to my face and don’t let up until she comes again, the aftershocks of the first wave rolling into the second.

I’m hoping that keeping her sexually satisfied can somehow make up for my failings as a man. And that it might help her forgive me after the fight. If I live.

Kat sharply pulls my hair, forcing me to look up at her, and I lose control, ropes of cum erupting right there in my boxers.

My mouth gapes open as I continue to jerk beneath her, a sickly smile lifting the corner of her mouth. Leaning toward me, she lets a string of saliva fall from her mouth into mine.

Fucking hell.

‘There’s a good boy. Coming back to me now?’

‘Yes,’ I stammer, licking my lip to catch every drop of her spit.

She pulls me to my feet, kissing me deeply before sighing. ‘One: if you ever do that again, I’ll be furious. Stick to the plan. Two: You coming in your trousers is incredibly hot, and when you get home, you better be ready to do it again. Three: You better have a plan for cleaning this shithole up.’

The enormity of that hits as I look around.

Damn it.

Sure, we could take the corpse to the well, but there’s no hiding the mess here. Having them search for a body won’t help.

There’s blood spatter everywhere. My cut knuckles have opened up while raining punches on Alan, which means I’ve probably left DNA all over the fucker.

‘Shit, Kat. I’m so sorry.’

‘What’s done is done. I didn’t like seeing you like that, though.’ She threads her fingers into mine and squeezes. ‘You need to stay with me. To do this together.’

Guilt bites.

‘We clean what we can. Dump a fuckload of bleach. And burn it.’

Kat nods. ‘Like you did with the first one?’

‘Precisely.’