Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LYLA

O ur plan to kill Carl Hatt is in motion. Friday night while Anne is away at her mother's house, per the note on the fridge reminding Carl of her trip. Her mother lives in Slough, which gives us plenty of time to get in and out, and it also offers Anne an alibi for when the investigation ensues after she comes home to Carl's lifeless body.

Neo and I are free to do as we please for the next few nights.

Honeymoon, in full effect, as he called it.

Though he'd given me plenty of options for which historic sites that we could tour and what five-star restaurants he'd take me to, I'd chosen to go to the movies.

It's mundane, but it's something he and I haven't done, something normal.

None of the reasons we're here in London are normal. Lately, I long to feel like the Lyla I was before I crawled to a madman with his anti-psychotics on my tongue.

When the car stops, and Neo helps me out of the back seat, I take in the building's outer shell.

It looks old.

Neo pays the driver and taps the top of the car to see him off as I turn around and grin.

"Why have we come all this way? Is there something special about this particular theatre?" I ask him as he slides his hand into mine, entwining our fingers together.

He shrugs. "It's been open since 1911, and it was rated at the top of the list when I Googled."

I laugh, and he narrows his gaze.

Stifling the laugh with a hand over my face, I clear my throat. "I'm sorry. I thought you were going to go into specific detail. Something other than it was on Google."

"Well, I'm sorry to have disappointed."

We buy tickets for some film about a biker gang, but we don't care about the movie itself. I want the experience.

Neo chooses seats in the very front row.

"How are we supposed to watch it without getting a headache?" I ask him.

"We're not watching this movie," he says, sipping his drink as he settles in and taps his lap.

I lift my brows.

"Sit, stupid girl. Don't be shy."

Looking around, I find only a handful of people in the theatre with us, and they're rows away from where we are.

Because who the hell would want to sit this close?

I drop my cup into the cup holder beside his left hand, easing myself onto his lap.

His massive, tattooed hands come around me, tugging my dress up over my hips as he pulls me flush with his chest.

"Put your feet on either side of my thighs."

I'm breathless as I listen.

The position is awkward and uncomfortable, but my center is thrumming as it's exposed. The thought of someone seeing is causing a wicked thrill in my sick brain.

The lights dim, and the previews start as Neo snatches my panties to the side, opening me to the cold air of the theatre.

"Neo," I breathe, looking around to ensure we're still the only ones this close to the screen.

"Shut up, stupid girl."

As a pang of embarrassment rushes me, I only get wetter.

"Someone could see," I tell him, turning my face to look at him, but his other hand grabs the top of my head, turning my gaze back to the screen.

"Watch your movie," he says gruffly.

"What are you going to do?" I ask him, smiling even though he can't see me.

"I'm going to make one of my own."

His words don't digest as his fingers part my cunt and slide over my clit.

"Fuck," I squeak out as his other hand wraps around my throat from behind, cutting my air off.

"Quiet, stupid love. I don't want to kill every fucking person in this theatre for having heard you come, but I will."

My eyes roll at his words.

This is the thing about Neo Wade that had transfixed me.

That turned me murderous.

He's a wolf in sheep's clothing.

A monster beneath a beautiful exterior.

But the bite of his sharp fangs keeps me coming back for more.

As the movie starts, his expert fingers, caloused from weilding instruments of death, ghost over my entrance before swiping back up to grate over my clit in mind-blowing circles. It's hard to keep the moans contained.

Neo flexes his hand over my throat, every so often giving me air before constricting again.

In between taunting me, he grips my pussy in his hand, staking his claim with a feral growl in my ear.

"Close your eyes," he tells me.

"But the movie…" I whimper when he slaps my pussy, loud enough for me to hear it over the cinema's surround sound, but I doubt it traveled back to the few moviegoers.

"Fuck the movie. You're the show, stupid girl." His lips' proximity to my ear and how his breath crawls across my neck has gooseflesh pimples on my skin.

I drop my head back to his shoulder, doing as I'm told and closing my eyes.

"There's a good girl."

I moan, and he cuts it off with his hand, compacting my throat again. The rest of it burns back through my body, working its way out of me as a gyration of my hips against his hard cock currently pressed against my ass.

"I love it when you behave for me. You're so good to your husband, aren't you, you greedy slut?"

I can't answer him.

He loves to ask me things when I'm unable to answer.

It's his game.

I nod the best I can as his magical fingers tease into my entrance a fraction.

He pops them back out the second he feels my body pressing forward to encompass them.

I try to groan and fail.

A twisted laugh burrows into my ear, his tongue following it .

My eyes roll back.

"Didn't think I'd fuck you so easy, did you?"

He never does.

And I'm fucking addicted to it.

He circles my clit, working me back up to a point I know is going to make me crazed. When he put me in this position and exposed my cunt to the room, I worried about the ramifications. If someone found us, the gig would be up, so to speak. The famed Butcher and his wife would be jailed. Not for murder.

For fucking at the cinema.

Now, however, I could give a fuck less.

I'll take my blade from my boot, lock the doors, and slaughter every soul in this fucking theatre before straddling his shoulders and letting his tongue dance across my pussy.

I'm desperate to come.

Desperate for him.

I grind over his hand when he finally lets me have a trickle of air.

I try my damnedest to keep it quiet, lest I be without it again.

He covers my mouth with his hand, reaching between us and pressing me into his front even harder as he frees his cock.

The logistics of this situation seem tricky, but I don't care what I have to do.

I need him inside me.

Now.

"Put me inside you, stupid girl," he whispers, nipping my ear.

My breathing behind his hand is ragged, and my body is throbbing so much that I can barely think past the need for him.

Reaching down, I sheathe him inside my pussy, arching forward with my back to tip him inside.

My breathing all but stops.

He feels so fucking good.

After as high as he took me, this is what I needed.

"Now, I want you to ride my cock and make yourself come. If you make one fucking noise, you won't come for a week."

I choke off a worried sob in my throat, controlling something I've never had before.

My pleasure at the hands of Neo.

"You understand me?" he asks as I desperately move, arching my back and digging into the seat on either side of his thighs with my feet to slide him in and out of my body.

There's a storm brewing, which seems only to be gaining more power by the second.

I nod beneath his hand.

"I've been waiting for this all day," he whispers, clamping his hand around my mouth tighter, knowing his words will make me respond in an untamed manner.

The sounds of motorcycles on the screen drown out the wet, sloppy sounds of my center gliding over his dick, and I hate it.

"I planned to fuck you here as soon as I saw the theatre online. It's all I could think about all day long. This tight cunt gripping my dick as if to kill it. Fuck, Lyla," he moans against my ear as I grab either side of the chair and use it as leverage to ride him better, harder.

His hand finds my clit, a sign that he's getting close to coming inside me.

The idea of him coming always makes my orgasm quicken, and I feel it doing so at the mental image of him stifling a cry into my neck while the patrons behind us are none the wiser. My pussy aches around him, my belly burning.

"Such a pretty little slut, letting me fuck you at the movies. Letting me fill this filthy cunt with my cock in public."

That nearly gets a moan out of me, but the thought of not coming draws it back down my throat as my eyes roll back in my head.

"Goddamn you, you feel so fucking good," he growls, and it's what breaks the dam.

I choke my moan down as my eyes fly open, and my mouth gapes behind Neo's hand. He clamps it tighter as he feels me convulsing around him.

"Good girl, stupid love. Good fucking girl," he praises, and I buck on his cock harder.

"Get on your knees. That pretty little mouth looks good enough to fuck tonight," he tells me.

I slide down his body to the floor, turning around and grasping him in my hand.

He smells and tastes like me as I suck him hard and fast, not giving him a chance to acclimate to the feel of my mouth in the slightest.

His hands come down as he leans back in the chair, letting his head fall back as he fists my hair and thrusts up, nearly gagging me.

His charged drives into my mouth are haphazard and sloppy soon, and when his mouth drops open and his demented eyes find mine through the flickering movie behind us, I know he's there.

"Right there, stupid girl. Don't stop," he whispers, and then he shatters .

Watching a madman come apart at the seams is like watching the most beautiful sunset after a stormy day.

Even if another storm is gathering, you bask in the tranquility's beauty, if only momentarily.

I swallow every ounce of cum down, licking my lips when he's finished.

He tugs me back into his lap, in the position I was first in, and tugs my panties back over my center.

There's this moment that spreads between us.

Where we don't know what's happening on the screen or even surrounding us, but we're together, we're happy, and we're both thoroughly fucked, so we don't care.

There's a plasticity about it.

Like no one or nothing can touch us.

Not even death.