Goldie(Night Rebels MC Romance Book 4)(43)

"You're gonna make me blow and I don't want to just yet. I want to play with you and suck your sweet pussy. Get up here," he said as he gripped her wrists and jerked her up. Kneading her tits, he played with her nipples as she threw her head back and arched forward.                       
       
           



       

"I love the way you touch my boobs. You make me feel things I've never felt."

"I love your tits. I could suck on them all night."

Reaching behind her, she grasped his shaft and ran her thumb over its smooth head, then put her thumb between her lips and sucked off his precome. "Mmmm …  salty with a tang. Reminds me of the ocean." The way he stared at her made her insides quiver, and she bent down and kissed him passionately.

Hooking his fingers on each side of her thong, he pushed it down. She wriggled out of it and tossed it on the floor.

"Open your pussy up for me." He pinched her nipples and she yelped, opening for him. "So pink and glistening. You're sopping wet and aching for my touch."

She moaned in answer.

"Get closer and feed me."

A surge of heat flushed through her; Goldie always pushed her to do new things. She'd never had a guy lick her the way he did, and now he wanted her to straddle him and put her wet-as-hell sex on his mouth. At the height of her arousal, she planted her knees on each side of him and lowered her swollen lips to his mouth. With his fingers digging into her hips, he pulled her down more, and then he kissed her engorged folds with open lips and protruding tongue. Excitement coursed through her as his fervent kisses and gentle nips drove her mad with desire. The sounds of her guttural moans and his sucking filled the room as his tongue explored.

"I love the sounds you make when I'm eating you," he said, the vibration of his lips driving her arousal even higher.

"And I love what you're doing to me right now. It feels so good."

"You taste so good." His fingers stretched her puffy lips even further as he sucked her clit. She arched into his face, losing herself in the moment and the flood of sensations scorching her body.

Then he pushed two fingers into her wetness and she gasped; they were cool in her tight heat as he shoved them higher inside her. Looking down, seeing his tongue lap her sensitive folds while his fingers pushed in, curled forward, and touched her sweet spot pushed her over the edge. Spasms and a million sparks exploded within her, and she was lost in a haze of sexual fireworks.

Flushed and panting, she rested her forehead against the wall as she started to come down from her orgasmic high.

"I love the way you look when you come," Goldie said as he gripped her waist and rolled her onto her back. Stroking the hair away from her eyes, he peppered her face and throat with small kisses as she lay beside him.

Hailey put her arm around his neck and pulled him down. "I'm crazy about you," she whispered in his ear. The glow of her orgasm still resonated within her, and she wanted to tell him that she loved him because she did. She wanted to shout it to him, to the partygoers one floor below them, and to the world. Ever since she could remember, she'd been crazy about him, but she kept denying it. Now she welcomed it, but she was afraid to tell him. She wasn't sure how he felt beyond the good times and comfort in shared memories. Her biggest fear was that he'd run away from her, and she wouldn't be able to deal with losing him. Not after she'd finally found him.

"I'm crazy about you too. You do shit to me that I don't understand but I like." Smoothing out the line in her forehead, he said, "What're you thinking about? Don't tell me nothing because that line on your forehead always gives you away when you're overthinking something."

"Just thinking how you need some pleasing." Throwing him a wicked smile, she rubbed his semi-hard dick. "Just relax. Now it's my turn to taste you."

For the next hour, they took turns pleasuring each other until they both lay sated and spent. They didn't talk, just held each other tightly, enjoying being together. After several minutes, Goldie's deep breathing washed over her. After kissing his neck, her eyes slowly sealed shut as she drifted off to sleep.





Chapter Thirty





The killer watched the gray-haired woman as her eyes pleaded with him, her arms and legs secured to the bedposts. She's probably thinking about her grandkids and wondering if she'll ever see them again. The several times he'd broken into her house when she'd gone to her book club, he'd seen the framed pictures of her grandchildren on the top of the piano in the living room. Hanging on the wall, in a large gold picture frame, was an old black-and-white photograph of a younger version of her and a young man in uniform on their wedding day. He'd stare at the picture each time he broke in; it reminded him of his grandparents' wedding photograph.

A small whimper brought him back to the bedroom and his victim. When he'd awakened her, she hadn't yelled. It was funny how some women wouldn't say anything; they'd just do as he said, hoping it would end soon. The look of regret, desperation, and terror was the same in all the women he'd attacked, but whether they spoke to him or not, or screamed out, was always different. The fear was predictable but the reaction was not.                       
       
           



       

Placing the knife flat on her breasts, he ran it across the tops of them as she whimpered like a wounded dog. Watching sadness and terror sink into the lines of her face, his pants grew tighter and his arousal began to escalate.

"I saw your wedding picture on the wall. You were a pretty lady. Your husband was lucky." He continued to caress her skin with the knife and smiled when he saw two tears slip out of the corner of her eyes. "Are you scared, pretty lady?" When she nodded, a rush of desire flooded him, and he placed the knife on the nightstand.

Bending down low, he whispered in her ear. "I'm going to fuck every hole you have, and I'm not going to be gentle. I bet your husband was, but I'm a bastard. But first I'm going to bite your tits real hard. After that, it's up to you to guess what I'm going to do." He pulled back and grabbed her underpants. Balling them in his fist, he commanded her to open her mouth, then stuffed them inside. He knew what he was going to do to her would be painful, and he wanted to make sure no one would hear her cries. And she would scream out. It would be instinct.

With narrowed eyes, he lowered his head and sucked one of her nipples. His tongue flicked and played with it until he bit down hard. Very hard. Eyes on hers, he kept biting as he pulled and twisted her other nipple. Her muffled screams, streaking tears, and horror-filled eyes pushed his brutality further until he was hard as granite. Heavy panting, gagged yells, and her body thrashing against the sheets pierced the stillness of the quiet neighborhood.

After several hours, her abused body lay still on the saturated bed sheet. He straightened up and swatted her ass. "Get up," he ordered.

She groaned as she pushed off the mattress, and he grabbed her roughly and took her into the en suite bathroom. A yellow toothbrush rested on the shelf in the medicine cabinet.

"Here. Brush your teeth, tongue, sides, and roof of your mouth. Now." He glanced out the window. The blackness in the east was beginning to fade; he needed to be finished and out of the house before the sun rose. He'd been so worked up that night, he'd taken much longer with her than he'd intended.

When she handed the toothbrush back to him, he shoved it in his pocket and pushed her toward the shower. Checking the water, he made sure it was warm before he shoved her in. He watched as she scrubbed her body. Some of his women scrubbed themselves raw, as if trying to wash away what had happened, and others did a crappy-ass job and he'd have to help them out. This one was scrubbing hard-he wouldn't have to get wet.

After she patted herself dry, he took the towel and shoved it into a plastic bag, then told her to go back into the bedroom. He collected all evidence that may have any of his DNA, then stared at her. The rush of exhilaration that normally surged through him as he prepared to leave was missing. That rush was what he craved and needed until the monster resurfaced and he went hunting again.

Slipping the knife out of his pocket, he came up behind her and yanked her head back, forcing her to look at him.

"You promised you wouldn't kill me. You told me if I did everything you said, you'd leave. I did everything you said." Her voice hitched before soft sobs filled the air around him.

Without a word, he sliced her throat, then let her drop to the floor with a thud. Gasping breaths and gargling blood through her severed windpipe were the only sounds in the room as he watched blood squirt out of her carotid artery while she lost consciousness.

As he left the room, he laughed out loud. Someone's going to have a real mess to clean up.

On his way home, his body was still vibrating from the high he'd had when he'd cut her throat. In that one swipe, all the tension, all the pressure, had just vanished, dissipated. He was on top of the world. He switched on the radio and sang along loudly.