Page 51 of Cruel Pleasures

Now that I have, it still isn’t enough.

I reach out and stroke her cheek. My hand travels lower, past the side of her neck, down to her breasts and stomach. The air in my lungs catches. The pressure in my balls returns. It’s only been an hour since I’ve had her, yet I already crave her again.

Sliding my hand between her thighs, my pulse races at how slick I find her folds.

Evidence of me. Evidence of the pleasure I gave her.

Slowly, my breath still stalled, I begin rubbing her. I spread the slick, pearly essence and then slide two fingers inside her.

I watch her face as I do, entranced by the subtle flicker of recognition that passes over her. I’m keyed into every reaction she gives, from the gentle flutter of her pussy to the slight shift of her body. I’m so distracted by everything about her that I almost don’t hear the noise outside the door.

The quick pad of someone’s feet as they make a getaway.

I go still at once. My ears strain trying to pick up the noise again. Then I’m off, once I realize what’s happening.

I’m out in the hall the next second. He’s not quick enough to escape.

“Look who it is,” I call. “I didn’t realize we had a visitor. A voyeur.”

Ryu halts where he is down the hall, though he doesn’t turn around. “You’re aware you’re not the only one with a tasking.”

“I’m aware you’re not as disciplined as you claim you are, are you, Ry? What were you doing? Peeping in on what was happening? Enjoying the show?”

“Making sure she was where she was supposed to be.”

“Very sweet,” I mock with a laugh, folding my arms. “Don’t worry, she was. With me. I’m handling it. Haven’t we gone over this?”

“You talk to hear yourself talk, Hurst. I agreed to nothing.”

“Was it you? Talia? The knife I’ve found in her room?”

“Draw your own conclusions.”

“The Hostess asked you to make her think she’s losing it, right? Seems like her style.”

“Or,” Ryu replies, finally turning around, “maybe it was you. You know, our resident serial killer.”

“That would be Kaden.”

“You’ve been promoted now that he’s gone.”

I smirk at the dark joke. “I’m more of a death artist. I view my work a lot more creatively than he ever did. You’re one to talk, considering you’ve actually assassinated people.”

“I have no interest in anything else you have to say. Which is why I’m leaving now.”

“Ry, I sure hope you weren’t getting ideas,” I call after him. My tone’s ripe with humor yet holds an undercurrent of warning. “She’s mine! I’ll do what I wish. You’ll have to find different prey. And if you don’t, then you’ll deal with me. You don’t want to deal with me. Not if you want to live.”

He pauses for another second, then walks off, disappearing with a flutter of his long overcoat.

Whether he’ll take my threat seriously, remains to be seen. It doesn’t matter either way—I have no issue giving Ryu the Klein treatment.

13. Imani

Don’t Call Me Crazy - Ashlee

I’m lost in a wave of intense sensory details. Some place in between waking life and the dreams that occupy my mind when asleep. It feels like falling down an endless black hole where I’m inundated with feelings I can’t place.

I could be dreaming. My body could really be racking with pleasure. The lips I feel trailing down the column of my throat could be real. The weight that presses down on top of me and the pleasure that percolates from the deepest part of my being…