Page 54 of Lethal King

“He’s dead?” Tytus asks, full of skepticism.

“No,” I angrily admit. “But I wasn’t planning on killing him right away anyway.”

“And why was that again?”

“Because I haven’t had my fun yet.”

“Ah yes… you maniac,” Tytus chuckles. “Well, don’t have too much fun. Our new associate wants Rian Kilpatrick dead just as badly as I do.”

“You met with him already?” I ask, suddenly wondering how long I was actually in the shower.

“Just a quick phone call while I waited for you to finish your thing.”

“You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“I don’t have to do anything. But I told you I’d be waiting around in case you needed help. So that’s what I did. Now that you’re safe, I can proceed with the real meeting.”

“When and where?” I ask. Without food to distract me, I can feel my mind already begging to wander back to what happened earlier.

“You want to come?” Tytus sounds surprised. “I didn’t think these kinds of meetings interested you.”

“They don’t, but I have nothing else to do.”

“Shouldn’t you be preparing for your next encounter with that Irish plush toy of yours?”

The hole in my stomach spreads to my chest as I consider Tytus’ question.

“No,” I respond, shaking my head. “He’s not worth my time.”

That’s only half a lie. The truth is, a part of me is disappointed with how easy it’s been to get the upper hand on the notorious Rian Kilpatrick. So far, he’s barely even put up a fight. I was expecting more.

Hell, maybe that’s why I let him live—because of the hope that he might regroup and provide a better challenge.

Or maybe I’m just a horny, hormonal bitch who doesn’t know what she wants right now.

Oh, you know exactly what you want.

Food and cock.

“It’s probably better to be safe than sorry, you don’t think?” Tytus urges. But he and I have always been different in that regard. Tytus is a chess player. Always planning two or three moves ahead. It’s why he set up this meeting with a potential new ally.

I, on the other hand, like to improvise. My traps spring on me just like they spring on my victims. Instantaneously. Once I have the idea, I get to work. Then, I wait for the bell to ring, and I pounce.

“I’ll come up with some other lure for the lion later,” I insist. “Tell me where and when our meeting is.”

Tytus sighs.

“Alright, I’ll send you the coordinates. Don’t be late.”

“I bet I’ll get there before you.”

Before he can argue, I hang up.

Then, I get busy.

There’s no point in sitting around thinking about Rian Kilpatrick—not about how to lure him into another trap; what I’ll do to him once he’s captured; how his cum nearly ruptured my diaphragm; how his stiff cock felt in my tight cunt, how I’m already desperate for more…

Fuck off.