Close to the end

Cara Thereon's kitten sipping milk from her finger

God, please don’t tease me.

Even as I thought that, I felt the head of his cock brushing my clit. A frisson of electricity zipped through my body. Suddenly I wanted to be teased. I wanted him to draw it out just a little because I knew this was all I could have from him.

His lips touched mine as he slowly circled my clit.

“You deserve a hard fucking, don’t you, detective? I owe you that and so much more.”

I tasted his breath. I wanted to taste his lips, but I wanted whatever he’d give me more. My hips rocked with each circle, my nipples brushing his shirt so I was reduced to a shuddering mess too quickly.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

I don’t know why I asked that question, but I needed to know. I needed to know why I wanted him so much, why he made me feel things I didn’t want to feel.

“Because we’re very much the same. Like wants like. And maybe, I want to ruin you.”

He kissed me then. It was a bruising kiss, one of ownership. I melted under him, because some part of me wanted to be owned by this man. This killer.

The moment he broke the kiss, he guided his cock inside. His hand gripped my face, holding me still so he could look into my eyes as I accepted him. That first thrust as my body opened for him… Fuck. It had been a while, and I whimpered as I stretched to accommodate him.

“Don’t shut your eyes.”

I opened eyes I hadn’t realized I closed, lost in savoring the sensations I’d missed too much.

“You stay right here with me. We’re in this together now.”

He eased out and then thrust back in hard. Then again. His eyes boring into mine as I tried not to float away with how good he felt inside me.

I was back to wanting it harder. I wanted him to hurt me, bruise me, leave me so I could feel nothing except him when it was all over.

He set the pace though, and I was a slave to him.

Even in the depths of my pleasure, I could see the furrow in his brow. Concentration or worry?

I wanted to smooth the lines away, but kept my hands above my head. It threatened to pull me out of the moment.

“Focus on me, love. Stay right here and feel exactly what I’m doing to you.”

He released my face and reached down to push my legs up to my chest. That angle change sent me into a frenzy.

“Fuck me.” I wanted to roar it, but rasped the words out instead.

He let out a husky laugh. My growl was cut short as he finally gave me what I wanted. Thrusts that stole my breath.

His hand found its way around my throat. I lifted my chin, welcoming the embrace.

His grip grew tighter, tighter, tighter still, holding me for each hard thrust. My breath grew shorter even as my pleasure mounted.

In that moment, as I hung on the very edge of coming, as my vision grew fuzzy at the periphery, I wondered if he’d end my life.

He hovered above me, his satisfaction at his power over me written all over his face. His pleasure at using my body there as well.

“So close to the end, detective. So close to the end.”


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      Cara Thereon

      I think desire can do funny things to us. Think of the ppl who regularly aid serial killers or cult leaders

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