Judge of Hell (Hell Night 3)

Damn it to hell, but I really fucked up bringing her along.

She pushes the wet strands back from her face and finally meets my eyes. I grab her wrist and massage the cloth over her pebbled flesh.

“I don’t regret it,” she responds quietly. Her statement surprises me, and the cloth pauses at her elbow. After a moment, I continue my trek up her arm to her shoulder.

“I’d understand if you did. I’d understand if you hated me and were disgusted by what you saw. I should have never allowed you to come.”

I move the cloth across her collarbone, my jaw growing hard when I see the scar. The echo of hearing Billy’s bones snap soothes my anger.

Ellie pulls her arm away from my grip and she steps so close to me the tips of her tits touch my chest. She tugs the cloth from my hand and drops it to the floor.

“Don’t do that,” she says earnestly, a crease forming between her eyes. She puts her hands against my ribs and rolls to her toes, putting her face in front of mine. “I chose to be there, and I’d do it again if given the choice.”

“I never wanted you to see that side of me. I’ll never be sorry for what I did to him, only that you saw it, that you felt even slight remorse for him.”

She rocks back on her heels, and I want to yank her forward to where she was. She shakes her head slowly.

“Being there was something I needed to do. I needed to witness the end of that man. I needed to see for myself that he would no longer be out there hiding in the shadows. Never, not once, did I feel anything close to remorse. Yes, the sounds of his flesh splitting open and the crunch of his bones….” She stops and releases a shudder. “That was hard to take, but….” She stops again and closes her eyes. Her voice drops to a bare whisper when she reveals, “I liked hearing his screams.” Her beautiful silver eyes flip ope

n again. “Maybe I should have felt sorry for him, but I didn’t.”

I gather her into my arms, wrapping her tight against my chest. The water pelts me in the face, but damned if I care. This woman is incredible. After what she endured at Billy’s and his buddies’ hands, she should be rejoicing in the sounds of his suffering.

She kisses the center of my chest and leans back. Reaching past me, she grabs the container of body wash, squeezes some into her palm, and rubs her hands together.

“Let me wash you,” she murmurs, her eyes darkening into pools of mercury.

My cock jerks at the prospect of her using her hands to clean me versus using the rag. I’ll take her bare hands any day.

My intentions weren’t sexual when I put us in the shower. I only wanted to wash away the memory of Billy and what I did to him. But with her eyes running over my chest, her tongue darting out across her lips, like she wants to lick me—fuck yes, my mind has turned dirty.

I hiss out a breath when her soapy hands move over my chest, gliding along the dips and valleys of my tense muscles. Up my arms, over my shoulders, across my pecs, and down my abs, I watch as she meticulously bathes me.

Her hands slow when she reaches the light scattering of hair on my lower stomach. My cock juts out, pointing directly at her.

She looks at me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her eyes heavy lidded as she sets a leisurely path down to my groin. The muscles in my stomach clench when her fingers stop just before the root of my shaft. She plays with the hair, tormenting the fuck out of me, but never makes contact like I need her to.

“Touch me, Ellie,” I rasp huskily.

The first brush of her fingers along my length has a deep groan rumbling from my throat. I throw my hand against the wall behind her before my knees give out. Her hands are perfection, smooth and silky against my hard flesh. She grips me tight and slides her palm up and down in lazy strokes.

I tip my head back, baring my teeth, trying to hold on to my control before this ends too soon. I snap my head down when she drops to her knees.

Oh, fuck me sideways with a ten-foot pole. There’s no fucking way I’ll last if she puts me in her mouth. I don’t stop her though, because damn, I want to feel the warmth of her tongue slide against me and the tight grip of her throat strangling the head of my cock.

Her eyes drift up to me, the look in her gaze lazy but so damn hot. She leans forward and darts out her tongue, licking away the pearly drop of precum on the tip before swiping across the sensitive underside.

“Sweet mother in hell, Ellie,” I groan. “Suck me, baby.”

With a hitch of her lips, her mouth opens and she sucks just the tip inside. I want to slam my hips forward, forcing my length all the way to the back of her throat, but I hold still, letting her run the show.

I keep my head lowered, unable to look away as another inch slides past her luscious lips and into her hot mouth. My balls tingle, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my release at bay.

With my unoccupied hand, I lace my fingers through her wet strands, tilting my head to the side. Her miraculous mouth is both heaven and hell. My knees feel like jelly and my stomach is a bundle of knots.

When she hums, I feel the vibration against the head and nearly lose my shit.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” I rumble thickly.