Page 51 of The Killer Card

Again.

Already.

This woman could bully me straight into my grave and my corpse would beg her to pour dirt in my mouth.

“So,” I swallow, watching her refill her glass. “Are we gonna make this a regular thing then or…?”

Naomi sets her cup down again, licking wine from her lips. Nooo, my subconscious whines, I wanted to do that.

“If you’re asking if we’re going to couple up and be all cute and romantic and shit in front of our friends the answer is a very firm no.” My shoulders and dick immediately deflate. “However,…”

Oh?! No, now we’re back.

“It would seem I am incapable of avoiding your magic cock despite all my efforts to do just that.”

“My… Qué?!”

Did she just say my magic cock?!

Has she ever said that before?

Honestly, hearing her say the word cock always leaves my brain about seventeen sentences behind. Her mouth is absolutely heinous for a woman of her status. I’ve known sex workers who speak more elegantly about their work than she does about what we do.

Have done?

Are doing?!

She glares at me again and honestly, not even going to try and hide that it gives me a boner. My sweatpants hide nothing and I am desperate to get her to let me bend her over this counter.

“You know exactly what I mean,” she snarls.

“That does not disqualify further explanation.”

I grin like the devil, making it obvious that I’m adjusting myself which- yep, draws her eyes straight down. She immediately looks away, but I notice the way she rubs her thighs together. So maybe I’m not the only one who has a Pavlovian reaction.

Naomi finishes her wine, reaching for the bottle. “Stop smirking you fucking psycho.”

“Mi reina, you just called my dick magical. This is the best night of my fucking life, so no, I absolutely will not stop smirking.” I lick my lips slowly. “I am happy to put my mouth to use elsewhere though. Or is it only my cock that holds the deep magic?”

Her eyes meet mine across the counter and I catch her looking at my mouth. She can’t lie to me. I know my tongue works wonders for her too.

“Tell me what to do, mi reina,” I beg, rising from my stool, sinking to my knees on my kitchen floor.

She watches me with dilated pupils, breaths quickening as I do what I know we have both been dying for since we ran into each other at The Cellar that first night.

I crawl to her.

Then, when I’m only a foot away I stop, sit back on my feet with my hands on my thighs. I keep my gaze trained on her gorgeous legs. “I’ll be good,” I promise.

Something in her control must shatter then- maybe it’s seeing me on my knees, maybe it’s the begging, maybe she’s just too fucking wet to keep pushing me away- because she suddenly snaps her fingers and points to the spot directly between her feet.

“Show me how good you can be, pretty boy.”

Chapter Sixteen

Naomi

I’ve been coming to The Cellar since I was eighteen years old. I’ve played with a lot of men- spanked, kissed, whipped, fucked- made an honest impression upon the clientele as the owner’s little sister. I’m a heavily sought after Dom. I have a firm hand when needed and a gentler touch when earned.