“You’re vile,” I state, shaking my head with judgment. “How can you be so blasé about death?”
“It’s interesting.”
“It could be you.”
Bobby and Joseph look at each other, excitement evident once again. I roll my eyes but can’t stifle a small laugh at their expressions. These are the kind of people who go looking for danger. We’re more alike than I thought.
“Do they have any evidence pointing to who it might be?” Nok asks the question I too was thinking.
“Not that they’ve said. Apparently, suspects have been arrested and released.” He clicks his fingers. “I personally believe that it’s not just one person, I believe it’s many.”
“Many killers?” Joseph asks his enthusiastic friend, gulping the gin like it’s water. I follow suit, cringing when the liquid touches my lips.
“Yeah, like maybe it’s just a bunch of jilted girlfriends trying to throw off the cops?”
I roll my eyes at their conspiracy theories and drink more alcohol. I’m feeling buzzed already, but not so much that I can’t control myself. Though I don’t let Nok know that. I want him to think I’m thoroughly intoxicated.
I press my lips to his, eager to forget this night in his touch. He kisses me back, growling when I hold tight to the front of his shirt.
My sister comes to mind, her concerns that he might hurt me. She spoke of it again this morning and I know she’s wrong. I know that I was wrong about him.
Sure, he’s a bit of an asshole, but is he so much an asshole that he would hurt me if given the chance?
“I think,” I mutter against his lips and hiccup convincingly, “that I’m a lil bit drunk.”
He grins and holds out his hand for the bottle, closing his strong fist around the neck. “Then I should catch up.”
I kiss his sweet, cherry gin lips and then taste it on his tongue with mine.
“What is that devious mind of yours concocting?” he whispers as his friends laugh and joke about murder mysteries and reservation police and how they’d all protect themselves like olden times. We shut them out, letting our eyes pass the communication between us.
“How we can get rid of them,” I whisper and guide the bottle to my lips.
The drunker he thinks I am, the better.
“Boys,” Nok yells suddenly, his eyes on mine, pupils dilated with arousal.
They both fall silent and look at us.
“Leave,” he barks and sucks my lower lip into his mouth.
They laugh as they go, taking the rest of the gin with them, wishing us good fun and good fucks. Little do they know.
I fall backwards onto the blanket the moment the door closes and stretch like a contented cat.
Nokosi kneels at my feet, circling my ankles with his hands. It’s a warming feeling and I moan when he starts to massage my calves, getting higher and higher with each stroke of his fingers. When he reaches my skirt, which stops above my knees, he drags it upwards baring my flesh and the triangle of my black thong.
His breath becomes ragged when I sit up slightly, letting my hair fall around my shoulders as I lean on my elbows and let my knees part.
“Rip it,” I breathe, looking into his amazing eyes. The pupils expand, showing his arousal right as his hands grip the lace-covered fabric and pull it apart where my hip dips.
His smile is one of masculine approval and he makes quick work of the other side.
And then, when I’m free of the cloth that hides my sex, I part my knees again slowly and show him all that I am. The cool air hits my wetness making me shiver with excitement.
He watches as I push my own fingers between my lips and circle them over my clit. I have courage from the alcohol that I would not have otherwise. Well, that’s not entirely true, but I wouldn’t be so quick to part my thighs for a man I only like when it suits me and not because I think he’s worth liking.
With eyes flickering from my gaze to my pussy, he lowers his head until I can feel his hot breath warming my sex. He kisses my thighs before he finally kisses me there and forces my hand away.
I breathe his name, not the shortened version. I want him to know that he’s all I’m thinking about as his skillful lips and tongue dance me through a version of ecstasy that I have never experienced in my life.
He pushes a finger into me, just one as he dines on me so perfectly.
I almost squeeze his head with my thighs and have to force my hips to remain still. I want to buck against him, I want to press his face harder against me, but I fear I might lose what I’m feeling if I move even a fraction.
My back lowers to the ground and I stare at the shadows cast across the low ceiling of the shed.
My breathing is staggered and difficult to maintain the closer I get to the edge.
I hum and moan, letting him know I’m enjoying every swipe and swirl of his tongue as my sex holds tight to his finger. I almost wish it were thicker. But not that. Not tonight.
My orgasm shatters me.
Shatters me.
I cry out so loud, unable to control myself that I have to bite my hand to try and stifle it.
It pulses and burns, even as it dissipates, and he stops what he’s doing to crawl up my body. His cock trails against my thigh, leaving a bead of precum as he goes.
I close my eyes gently as he ascends me. It’s not hard to feign sleep when you’ve had a drink but all I really want to do is pull him on top of me and guide his cock into my throbbing sex.
“Hey,” he whispers and laughs a little.
I let out a soft snore and feel him tense above me, resting on one arm as he pushes my hair back from my face.
“Lilith,” he hisses, tapping my cheek with his fingers. I let it loll to the side. “Are you seriously fucking sleeping right now?” He taps me slightly harder. “LIL.”
I let out a groan and let my leg drop. He lifts my hand and releases it. Dead weight. I’m good at this. I kind of want to laugh but I’m obviously not going to.
Although I nearly do when I think about it.
“Fuck,” he breathes, and I feel his breath fan across my lips. But then he yells, “LILITH!” While shaking my shoulders. “Are you shitting me? Again? Fuck blue balls. Fuck.”
I feel him hesitate and I wonder if he’s thinking about it. Wondering how easy it would be to just push his cock into my body, all open, wet, and ready for him. He drops onto me for a moment, taking most of his weight on both arms. I can feel him between us, trapped between his thigh and mine.
My womb quivers at the thought of him taking what he needs, and when he stands and yanks down his jeans I start mentally cheering. Not because I want him to do anything, but if he does, I was right all along and this will all be over soon. This game I’m playing.
I hear his jeans hit the floor; I hear him kick off his boots. It takes everything to not open an eye and watch him.
He’s going to do it. He’s going to rape me. Or he’s going to try. I’ll never let him get that far.
I wait a moment to see what he does. I’m not the type to jump to conclusions, I’ll give him until the very last second before I stop him.
His hands pull on my ankles and then I feel soft fabric hook over my feet.
What the fuck is going on?
He tugs something up and up until he forcefully pulls it over my rear and it’s covering me completely. His boxers… he’s put me in his boxers. Because he ripped my thong… so he’s covering me.