Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

NEO

I peel myself away from her lips—because that's the only way to resist sinking into her mouth and staying there for the rest of the fucking night—and she whines like I've taken away her pacifier.

I can't help but chuckle darkly at the notion.

"Up." I tap her on the sides of her thighs after taking my hand out of her pants. I know I smell like her, but I refrain from inhaling her scent too deeply, lest I get too transfixed to play with my stupid girl how I want to.

Worry floats in her eyes, but she listens.

Searching for something to lay her on, I find an ottoman at the end of a chair near the television set.

Pulling it away from the chair, I pat the top. "Take your clothes off and lay down on this. On your back," I tell her.

She furrows her brows the slightest bit. Despite that, she listens.

She said she would be my good girl tonight, and I might as well take advantage of it.

Her body splayed over the ottoman is a fucking sight.

I stand back and take her in as her breathing speeds. I'm sure her mind is reeling, wondering what I will do to her.

Moving to the closet where we've stowed our things, I find my bag.

The one I take with me when we're working.

It takes a minute to rummage through all its corners in the dark closet before I find what I'm looking for.

Ropes.

"Neo," Lyla says, warning in her tone as I approach her with the ropes in my hands, but I only grin.

"You said you would be my good girl, right?" I ask her.

"That was before I knew I was going to become your victim."

A laugh makes its way out of me as I shake my head. "You and your jokes," I prod, making her uneasy as she shifts on the ottoman.

Her nipples are hard, and I know that pretty little cunt of hers is wet at the idea of the danger she could be in right now.

I tie a rope over her middle, binding her to the ottoman. I use smaller ropes to connect her ankles individually to either foot of the ottoman, opening her legs wide.

Last, I tie her wrists above her head, connecting two ropes to the opposing feet from where her ankles are tied.

"Neo…" she breathes as I slink my hand over her stomach, descending until I'm spreading her pussy lips wide, my fingers swirling around her little nub in slow sweeps.

"Stupid girl," I taunt back.

"What is it you mean to do to me tonight?" she asks, her voice breaking as she cries out when my other hand, which she hadn't been paying attention to, tugs her nipple into a hardened peak for me.

"I haven't quite decided yet. Though…" I trail off, disappearing into the closet again, only to emerge with a toy she hadn't known I'd brought. "I brought this with me."

The little curved silicone toy feels sleek in my hand as I wave it in front of her.

It's brand new, and she has no clue what she's in for tonight.

Hell, I don't, either.

But since the moment she crawled to me all those years ago, I've wanted to ruin her, and I've nearly accomplished my mission.

"Now, we just put this in here…" I trail off, inserting the bulbous end of the vibrator and placing the clitoris stimulator in just the right spot before standing to look at my handy work. "Perfect. At least, I think it is. You tell me."

I look at her as her eyes flick between the inserted toy and me.

Fuck, she looks beautiful tied down.

"I've never used something like this, so I don't know if…" Her scream cuts off her words as I press the already installed app on my phone, clicking the vibrations up a few notches as I watch her body shake beneath the bindings.

"Well, did I do it correctly?" I taunt, and as she nods.

A laugh tumbles from my lips.

I toy with the vibrations as she tries her damnedest to writhe on the toy.

"Ah, ah, ah, you come when I allow you to come, you greedy whore," I tease, dropping to my knees beside her .

She turns her face, seeking my kiss, and my breathing speeds in response to my proximity.

She's always been a fucking drug that only gets more potent, more addictive.

I'm still under her spell, too.

"You look so fucking good tied down beneath my ropes, stupid girl," I whisper, teasing her with soft brushes of my tongue over her lips.

Each time she tries to kiss me, I pull back.

"Neo, please," she begs.

Pulling back to look at my phone, I drag the dial to give her more.

She arches into the rope bindings, screaming my name as she comes.

"Good girl," I praise, and she turns her face into mine.

This time, I let her have what she wants and collide my mouth with hers.

The kiss is every word I could never say to her. Every single thing I've always wanted to tell her but can't. It's demanding and hot. Soft yet firm. It's more passionate than I've ever given her.

Things with Lyla have never been black and white.

She was an unexpected but welcome curve in my path, one I'll never stop speeding around with guns blazing.

"It's too much," she whimpers against my lips as her kiss grows sloppy.

"More!" I growl, and it's reminiscent of our first encounter when I couldn't get enough of hearing the noises she made when she came.

I'm still addicted to it.

Her objections disappear as another orgasm rips through her .

I stand and remove my sweats, tossing a leg over her middle to straddle her as I jack my hand over my cock. Pre-cum glistens at the tip, and Lyla looks at it as if it'll quench her thirst.

"Turn it off, please, turn it off!" she begs, and her pleas go unanswered as I bend my knees enough to shove my dick in her mouth.

"There, that's better," I tell her, holding onto either side of her face as I move in and out of her hot, tight mouth.

"Fuck, that feels good," I mewl.

She moans around my cock, and I know the toy is working her toward another orgasm.

"There's my dirty little slut," I groan, and her eyes darken around the edges, flicking up to look at me as I fuck her mouth in punishing thrusts.

Her wail is incoherent as I press forward and sink into her throat.

She gags, and it animates something in my fucked-up psyche. "Yes! That a girl, gag on it."

Each time the head of me slides a bit too far, she heeds my sick command, gagging violently around me. Each time, I feel closer to coming than I want to be.

I never want to come when I'm with her.

I want to bury myself in her for as long as humanly fucking possible.

"Look how pretty you look on my cock. Fuck, those tears," I snarl, losing my grip on reality as I feel my body aching to fill her mouth.

Her scream around me as she comes for a third time breaks me.

I drive forward, spilling down her throat as I fist either side of her hair in my hands, growling through each mind-bending wave.

"Good fucking girl!"

Reaching back, I tug the vibrator out of her and toss it onto the bed, where it dances around on the surface.

Pulling out of her mouth, I hiss.

"I knew you said you were going to be good, but fuck, Lyla." I drag my softening cock across her open lips as she tries to catch her breath.

Her tongue peeks out and teases around the head, and my eyes roll back.

"Why can't I ever get enough of you?" I breathe, anger swelling at the thought.

Even though I know I don't have to worry about her being an obsession.

Because she belongs to me.

She. Is. Mine.

A while and three more orgasms later, we're wrapped around one another in the dark silence of the hotel room when Lyla says, "I love you."

The air between us is still charged, even though we have depleted ourselves multiple times.

"I know you can't say it back, and I don't need it. The way you just… the things you did… they're enough. I know you feel the same way. God, I feel so raw right now." She laughs, and I smirk.

"In love with a serial killer. They'll make a documentary about you one day," I joke, rolling onto my side and tugging into her body further.

She does the same, tossing a leg over my hip.

"Married to a serial killer, they'll call it," she tosses back.

I chuckle, tipping her face back as I dust my lips over hers. "I love you, too, stupid girl."

She clears her throat. "You know, I said I didn't need to hear it, but, fuck…"

"We all need reassurances occasionally," I tell her. "I hope you realize just how much I do. I know I can never put it into words. If I could, I wouldn't say them properly. They'd come out all…"

"Stabby?" she asks.

I jab her in the side with my finger, causing her to squeal.

"Something like that."

She wraps her arms around me and snuggles closer. "I know you love me, Butcher. Or I'd be floating in bits and pieces down some river."

I laugh and hold her closer.

"What now?" she asks me, and even in the darkness, where she can't see me, my brows furrow at her question.

"What do you mean?"

"What's next?" she says.

"Whatever you want, stupid girl. The world is your oyster, and I'm standing beside you holding the shucking tool."

She laughs, and her entire body quakes against mine, almost leaking her delight into my deranged soul.

Almost.

Given years, I think she'll infect me fully, though I don't think it a bad thing .

"What an analogy," she finally says as she stops laughing at me.

"I think next we go to Paris," I say wistfully, an idea forming that I can't let go of.

"Paris? What's in Paris? Another job?"

I find her lips in the dark, kissing her ardently until I know she's good and breathless.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."