Taboo Unchained(41)
When I feel like I'm about to crack in two, I flip Audra over and cover her mouth with mine, tasting her like I'm not even present in my own body anymore. The Lucas Carter I know is gone, replaced with this raging animal who, well like the beast in its wild, untempered ways, is not near as malicious. This is a whole different side of me, a man who wants to bury his dick in a woman because she feels good, because she's beautiful, because he's interested in her and she in him. It's so base it makes me want to spit. But I don't stop. I kiss Audra and massage my cock until I'm hard and pushing inside of her again, enjoying the way she spreads her legs for me, lets her hair cover Clarice's body and moans like the Goddess of Sex herself. In a daze of hazy sex and heat, I notice that Mrs. Braxton's fingers are relaxing on Audra's dress, that she's about to drop it, and I panic. She hasn't said her safety word, but if that garment falls, pools on the floor in a splotch of black polyester, the small sliver of decent man inside of me will have to find out why. And I don't want to stop, don't know that I even can anymore, so I pause, reaching up to replace the gag inside her mouth when she spills her secret.
“I murdered my sister,” Clarice says, voice husky with need and desperation. Even Audra stops moaning at the words, pausing with her hands on my chest and her head tilted back on Clarice's ribcage. “I held her head under the water until the bubbles stopped.” Clarice breathes out, exhaling like a weight's been lifted off her chest. “She was the devil, I swear it. I hated the way she walked, the way she ate her food, the way she hugged my mother. Just everything. So when she was eighteen, I asked her to the river and I ended it.” Clarice struggles to lift her head and look at me, eyes suddenly piercing. “Is that why you're here, Lucas? Because you know? Is that why you picked me out?”
With my cock still wrapped in the warm folds of Audra Holiday, I'm finding it difficult to speak, but I manage. Pulling away is not an option, not even with Clarice's words hanging from the canopy bed like icicles.
“You know that's why I'm here,” I say, wondering in that split second of time how the hell I ended up fucking murderers for a living. Pushing the thought aside, I slam my hips into Audra's again, enjoying the warm caress of her fingers on my back, my eyes taking in the sight of Clarice's confession, written across her face like a tattoo. Fingers of guilt claw at the sides of her face, and I know then and there that she's cured – at least for the time being. Demons don't feel guilty for what they do; they might question why, but they don't ever shed a tear.
I move inside of Audra, switching my gaze to her delectable, little face. Hiding inside that glimmering green gaze is a devil, and I find that much more attractive than Clarice's broken darkness. I am Lucas Carter, and I am still a monster. Monsters don't mix with human beings; we like to stick to our own species.
I feel the orgasm break over me like a fever, drawing sweat from my skin and a grunt from my throat, a real, animalistic sound of pleasure that fucks so hard with my mind that I pull away from Audra's grasp and rise to my feet, panting like the beast itself has taken up permanent residence in my skin.
“Lucas, come back,” Audra beckons, turning over and offering me her ass. Clarice gives me a look, straining to see around Audra's body. It's easy to see she isn't happy, not in the least. Here she is, having just confessed to a murder and I'm not paying her any attention. This is not the reaction Clarice was expecting, and it certainly isn't going to win me any points with her. Fuck. I feel like a caged animal, my eyes darting this way and that, taking in the opulent oil paintings that the Braxtons in no way deserve. My cool calmness is dissipating yet again, more proof that Audra is more correct in her assumption than I'd like her to be. Maybe I do have an anger problem? Maybe I'm not as okay with all of this as I pretend to be?
“Huh.” I snort derisively and shake my head.
Ridiculous.
“Lucas?” Audra sounds annoyed right now – understandable considering her lack of orgasm – but we're here to do a job, not to mention cover up a murder. Much as I hate to say it, Clarice Braxton comes first. My lip curls of its own accord, and I move forward, kneeling on the edge of the bed and leaning over Audra's ripe, warm body. Her sigh of pleasure makes my head hurt. As soon as we get out of here, I am going to compartmentalize this woman and get over this strange obsession. Client. She goes in the same box as all the rest of them.
“Do you want to get paid?” I whisper, hopefully quiet enough that Clarice won't hear me. She's not speaking, which is a particularly bad sign. Normally, I have trouble getting the bitch to shut the fuck up. Her babbling is incessant. “Not to mention get away with murder? Make Clarice happy.” I shove Audra aside and reach a hand down to my cock, stroking it back to attention with rough fingers. I try not to let Clarice see that I have to look at Miss Holiday in order to get hard again. Knowing you're paying someone for sex, and realizing they don't actually find you attractive or even like you is another matter entirely.