The Killer's New Wife

I slipped both hands down into his boxer briefs and gripped his thick cock. I sucked in a shocked breath as he growled his pleasure. His fingers moved between my legs, my soaking wet slit dripping down my thighs. He teased me in wild, slow strokes and I nearly lost it right there, except he slowed me, brought me back down, and pulled me into the bedroom.

I got a quick glimpse of the furniture: dresser, nightstand, chair in the corner, and an enormous bed. The room was immaculately neat. He pushed me down onto the sheets and pulled me to the edge before spreading me legs wide.

I’d never felt so naked before as he ran his tongue along my slit, licking me wildly, lapping me up with abandon. I moaned and writhed and rolled my hips and let him take me with his mouth until I felt it, right there on the edge.

I begged him. I’d never begged before, but I begged him. “Fuck me, Ewan,” I whispered.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he said and pushed me back down. My legs opened for him, and he pressed himself against me, before sliding deep inside.

My back arched as his tongue rolled around a nipple. I gasped and my breasts shook as he fucked me slowly at first.

“From the first time I saw you, I wanted this,” he whispered in my ear. “And you can’t understand how much I need it. You kissed me in that bathroom, even after seeing what I am.”

“What are you?” I asked, digging my fingers into his muscular back as pleasure, pleasure, pleasure rocketed down my spine with each gorgeous thrust.

“A monster,” he growled. “A killer. And you still want to come into my bed.”

“Yes,” I gasped as he bit my lip, then my shoulder, then my nipples. “I don’t care what you are,” I moaned, as the pleasure kept building, faster and faster. “I don’t care what you think.”

“Because you want me to fuck you,” he whispered, his voice a rumbling groan in my ear. “You want this pleasure more than you realized. You need a man like me, a man that can take your body and keep it.”

“Yes,” I gasped, arching my back, and he kept going, faster and faster, and god, it was horrible and beautiful and waves and waves of excited intensity rippled through my skin. He bit my lip and held my hips and fucked me, my body rocking, and I couldn’t take any more.

I came in a burst of bright light. My moans escaped my lips and I had no control anymore. I didn’t want control. I wanted him, deep between my legs, over and over again. I came along his length and when I was done, when I was nothing more than a puddle of pleasure, putty for his play, he lay back on the sheets and stroked himself.

I took him in my mouth then and sucked his shaft until he came deep between my lips.

We lay tangled beside each other for a while. The night stretched out behind me like gossamer. I could barely keep hold of it. I saw flashes of the Healy man dying in the toilet, or Ewan kissing me, or Ewan coming home to pull my towel off. It all felt blurred and strange, and the only thing real was him, the hulking man beside me.

He pulled me close and held me. I shivered when he kissed my ear and whispered, “I’ll let you go, you know.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.” His eyes met mine, and I knew he wasn’t lying. “If you want to go, I’ll let you.”

“Don’t make me say it.” I buried my face in his chest.

But he pulled me back up toward him and kissed my lips. “I need to hear it.”

“I want to stay,” I whispered, almost choking it out.

“Good,” he said. “Because I’m not done with you.”

And he kissed me again, slow and long, taking his time. He began to stir a few moments later, and he pinned me down onto my back and spread my legs, and I knew I’d made the worst mistake of my life, or maybe the best decision possible, and it didn’t matter, nothing mattered but him, his lips, his cock, my body, and the pleasure that crackled in the air between us.

11

Ewan

The park buzzed around me. Families moved together in small groups along the blacktop and couples lounged on blankets in the sun. A small boy in blue shorts and a t-shirt with dinosaurs skittered past, his knees covered in scabs and bruises, laughing as his sister in pink and green chased him with a bubble gun. I stretched my legs out and tilted my chin up toward the sunlight that dipped through the trees, dappling the ground.

I felt good. Last night I killed a man in a toilet bowl then spent hours fucking Tara until she passed out with exhaustion. This morning, she was distant and a little cagey, but I wasn’t surprised. She did yoga, drank coffee, and didn’t seem surprised when I told her I had some errands to run, and to sit tight.