Selene
Zander is going to cum down his fucking leg when he sees this dress on me. It is bright red, strapless, and it practically stays up with willpower and prayers. It is tight as fuck, and I love how good my ass looks in it.
My next victim, Harold Aster, is in his early sixties. He’s done well to cover his tracks, but not well enough to hide from me. He’d made the mistake of joking about it with an old friend of his, who just so happened to be a previous chatty client I’d dealt with nearly three months ago. The old cunt hadn’t shut his mouth about it, so it was easy to start digging up information once I’d started.
Harold has been married three times, has seven daughters and two sons between all those wives, and he’d pimped the majority of them out to his rich asshole friends from the moment they all reached the ripe age of thirteen. To make matters worse, one of the wives even knows about it and takes a cut from the profit.
One of the daughters committed suicide at the age of seventeen, another one of them has a bunch of mental health issues including anorexia, and one of the sons despises all forms of affection and is basically a robot. The sad thing about the son is he would probably end up on my list one day, because his anger issues towards women are pretty fucking strong.
His mother is the one who knows what’s going on, and he hates her for it.
Not that I blame him.
I make my way towards the limousine that’s parked down a side alley, and I open the back door myself, not noticing any driver around. The moment I slip inside, my senses go on alert as I find Harold and who I assume is the driver, sitting there waiting for me.
Harold smiles at me like a creep, his eyes raking over my figure.
“You are a beauty. I hope you don’t mind that my friend watches.”
Fuck. Looks like I’m just fucking and not killing today.
I paste on a charming smile, letting out an annoying giggle.
“Oh, that’s perfectly fine! Anything extra will cost though.”
The driver fumbles in his pocket and pulls out a wad of bills, practically throwing them at me.
“Can I touch you? Is that enough?”
Quite sure he’s a fucking virgin, because no man throws that much money at a woman just to touch them while looking that fucking nervous. I flutter my lashes at him, biting my lip and parting my legs to tease him.
“You can have a ride too, if you want? If Mr. Aster doesn’t mind, that is,” I answer in a breathy voice, and Harold’s smile becomes dark.
“Of course I don’t mind. How about you get out of that dress and show us what we’re working with,” he asks, and I oblige like the good little paid whore that I am. I slip from the dress but leave the silver strappy heels on, sliding my foot up Harold’s leg.
“Well? Do you like what you see, Mr. Aster?”
The driver looks ready to fucking combust at the sight of my tits, let alone my pussy being on display. Who needs underwear, right?
Harold hauls me onto his lap, smelling my neck like a weirdo.
“You smell divine. Put a condom on me,” he orders, shuffling his pants down awkwardly without moving me from his lap. I accept the condom and lean back, placing it over the head and slowly rolling it down his shaft while biting my lip.
He’s already groaning, so I know it won’t take him long once I actually start fucking him. But things don’t always go as planned.
The driver suddenly grabs both my arms and holds them tightly behind my back, chuckling in my ear.
“You don’t think I know who you fucking are? You killed my dad, you little slut. Found his car burned to a crisp outside of town, his body in the back and your reaper mark left in the fucking dirt,” he murmurs, and for the first time in a while, I am a little thrown at that surprise. That asshole didn’t have kids, and I have no idea how that connects to Harold.
Harold grins, pinching my nipples hard.
“The thing about rich pricks like myself, is that we know other rich pricks. You’re the talk of the town, Reaper. It’s time that you paid for your sins,” he growls, shoving a finger inside me roughly.
If he really thinks he can rape me as punishment, he has another thing coming to him. I am a pro at detaching myself from my body when it comes to sex and I just have to wait it out.
His driver keeps my arms pinned as Harold does a shitty job at punishing me with his fingers, but I’m suddenly pulled backwards and slammed down onto the seat, my face pushing into the luxury fabric and my legs are held down to stop any of my fancy ninja moves. The driver is surprisingly good at the hold he has on my arms still, but he’ll lose focus and give me a window to escape soon. They always do.
Nails dig into my legs as weight lands on my back, and I take my chance to yank an arm free and swing my elbow back. There’s a grunt before a fist hits me in the eye, pinning my head painfully to the seat.