Page 52 of How to Kill Your Rival

She slides those perfect lips over my length, and I nearly lose my mind. The heat of her tongue, combined with the way it slides beneath my shaft, has me weak.

The knife drags across my arse and down my thighs, the scratching sensation adding to the pleasure in ways I can’t explain. My stomach tightens as she takes me deeper, those big eyes focused on my reactions.

My dick is shiny when she pulls back. ‘If I’m going to suck your dick, moan for me. I want to hear you whimper. Do it real well and I’ll swallow. Again.’

This. Fucking. Woman.

But how can I deny her what she desires?

I don’t hold back, whimpering and moaning as she uses her tongue, fingers and knife to drive me into a writhing mess.

Every piece of control I lose makes her all the more feral. The closer I get to orgasm, the more brazen she becomes with her knife, digging it deeper as I try my hardest not to flinch.

My fingertips scratch at the wall while I spill my cum down her throat, gasping as she drags the blade over my perineum.

And I want her more than ever.

She sits back on her heels and grins. ‘Fancy a pint?’

I look over to the corpse, and then down at my scratched-up dick, still wet with her saliva. ‘Sure.’

17

ELIZA

My reflection is abhorrent.

When Maggie asked me to come see her wedding dress, I didn’t expect to be the one in the bridal shop changing room wearing something akin to an eighties prom dress.

The material crinkles as I run my hands over its salmon-y pink ruffles.

Yes. Ruffles.

I only agreed to put it on to shut Maggie up. I want her to have a lovely elopement, but wasn’t aware I’d need to be trussed up like an overgrown blancmange.

‘Well?’ Maggie says on the other side of the curtain.

‘Maggie…’

‘Let me see,’ she says.

‘I’m not coming out,’ I say.

‘Eliza, it’s for my wedding.’

‘There’s a fucking bow,’ I say.

‘It’s cute,’ she says.

‘It’s a bow the size of a bus, Maggie. Right on my tits.’

‘Come out,’ she demands, and I hang my head before opening the curtain.

Maggie takes one look at me and loses it completely. To the point where I think I might have to find her an inhaler.

She sags sideways on the sofa and laughs until she makes a honking noise. Everyone stares at me and the atrocious dress.

‘Maggie,’ I say.