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She moans, falling back into our rhythm. “Oh, God. Yes!”
“Tell me you’re a slut!”
“Fuck, yes! I’m a slut!”
“Whose?” I bark, smacking her ass, making her yelp in surprise.
“Yours!” she cries, tears flowing down her cheeks. “I’m your slut!”
“Good girl.”
The sounds of pleasure and skin slapping echoes off the walls. My thrusts start to become erratic, my control slipping from my grasp with every snap of my hips. I slap her ass, and she gasps from the sharp sting, her back arching.
“Fuck me,” she groans. “Fuck me! Yes! Please, don’t stop!”
I grab her throat and drill into her. Legs shaking, she squeezes her eyes shut, the bed creaking and smacking into the wall as I fuck her like my life depends on it.
“I’m c-c-close!” she chokes out.
“Come on your killer’s cock, baby!”
My words are bookended by a brutal thrust. She chants her curses like a mantra, like a fucked up prayer, before she throws her head back in bliss and screams as her climax floods her. My body tenses up as I continue to rail her through it—before my orgasm tears through me. I moan, releasing into the condom.
One day, I’ll fill up my Little Finch’s cunt to bursting.
As she collapses, her body quakes with the aftershocks of ecstasy, her limbs turning into jelly. I slowly withdraw and pinch the end of the condom, tying it off before slipping it into my pocket for safekeeping. Then, I take a few moments to admire her thoroughly fucked hole.
“Holy shit,” she murmurs. “That was amazing.”
A foreign wave of tenderness sweeps through me. I have the impulse to nuzzle into the crook of her neck, planting kisses all over her body before falling asleep in each other’s arms.Geez, since when have I become such a sap?I shake the thought off and stand up, tucking myself away.
I’m about to leave when Gwen asks, “What can I do to prove to you I’m trustworthy?”
“I will contact you when it’s time,” I reply, chuckling in amusement. “Sleep well, Little Finch.”
I leave her apartment before she can say anything else. Should I worry about her end game? Probably. But I want to give her a chance in some form. I’ll just have to figure out what that is. And as I quietly ascend the stairs, that chance might just have volunteered itself on a silver platter.
A dark shadow appears in my peripheral. I pause in the stairwell, unsure whether to wait until they’re gone or make a run for it; I can’t afford anyone connecting Blake to my real identity. Against my better judgment, I peer around the corner to get a look at who it is. I can make out dark clothing and a hood pulled up over their head, as if they’ve been lurking in the hall. Probably up to no good. He cranes his neck in my direction and I clench my fists.
It’s Gwen’s goddamn stalker!
The mask he wears is a crude, sloppy caricature of my own—ofCameron’s. Rage simmers within me as I round the corner, my knife at the ready. “Just who the fuck do you think you are?”
“N-no one!” he stammers out through a voice changer before turning and bolting.
Lightning streaks across the sky as I give chase. I’m faster than him, but he seems to know the building. Thunder shakes the ground as he bursts through the front entrance and sprints toward the street. Before he can make it, I close the gap and tackle him to the ground. The wind beats against my hoodie as he struggles for control, the rain pounding down on both of us as I straddle him.
I smash my fists into his skull, over and over again as my anger boils over. “Who the fuck are you?!”
Overwhelmed by pain and shock, he cannot reply. Soon, he stops thrashing and goes limp beneath me. I grasp his mask and wrench it off. Lightning illuminates the sky, casting light on his face—one I recognize.
“Son of a bitch,” I growl as Colton’s bloodied and bruised mug stares back at me.
Chapter
Fifteen
HER
