Page 17 of Killer Confections (Syndicate Killers #1)

A large hand settles on my ass, stroking slow circles. The heat soaks through my clothes and my muscles tense at the contact.

There’s a rumbling sound of appreciation from above me that makes my core clench. My body’s reaction is confusing, and I just want him to let go.

His head lowers to my ear, a deep, rough baritone seizing me. “You’re gonna count for me.”

I shake my head, my lip wobbling. “No, please—”

He shifts, turning my body as his hand reaches under me. I gasp when his fingers flick open my jeans before he shoves them down my hips and they bunch near the center of my thighs. My backside is exposed, the cool air hitting delicate skin and making goosebumps rise.

A finger toys with the lace of my panties, running under the fabric and grazing my ass crack.

I gasp, my eyes closing as the heat builds low in my gut. “Please stop. I’ll do anything.”

He shushes me, cooing as his fingers dip further, ghosting my folds. I jolt, a surprised sound leaving me.

“Wait—” I’m cut off when the hand leaves my ass and fists my hair tightly, yanking my head back to a near impossible angle.

Half-lidded glacial eyes pin me. “ Count. ”

He releases my hair and I suck in a breath, my thighs squeezing as I watch his hand rear back.

THWACK!

He doesn’t hold back. The hand that lands on my right cheek brings a stinging pain with it that’s so centered it causes my teeth to grind. My eyes water as a moan of protest leaves me.

“Stop!” I shout, my voice wavering as my tears build.

A hand smooths over the reddened flesh of my ass, massaging the area. His ocean blues cut into me through the mirror, his brows pulled close as he gives me a displeased look.

This is so humiliating.

Yet my body is alive, humming with something I’ve never felt before.

I shouldn’t feel this way about my stalker taking advantage of me.

It’s taboo and unorthodox, but as my core gives another desperate clench, I feel the wetness coating my folds.

I’m confused by this, so I try to reason it down to my body’s reaction to being touched so intimately.

It’s just my body’s response. I’m not turned on.

Do what he says and he’ll let you go.

I need to get away from him.

“ One ,” my voice sounds quiet and tremulous in the silence that blankets the kitchen.

His chest rumbles in satisfaction as a deep, guttural sound of approval leaves him. My whole body tenses, my thighs rubbing and my skin feeling far too sensitive.

His hand rises in the mirror again, and my eyes widen as I brace myself against him.

THWACK!

“FUCK!” I shout when his hand comes down over the same spot as the first time, that hot, radiating pain making my skin tingle as a deep ache begins.

I feel too empty.

My cheeks are flushed as I observe the wanton and drunk woman in the mirror.

What’s happening to me?

A hand rubs over the sensitive area that’s sure to be bruised by the morning. It’s soothing, as if he’s attempting to give me some comfort during my punishment.

“Two,” I breathe, my voice becoming hoarse.

His hand rears back, and I close my eyes as two fierce slaps land on the same spot.

THWACK!

THWACK!

My teeth grind, and hot tears well, spilling down my cheeks. I can feel something dripping down my thighs and shame punches through me.

My channel gives another squeeze, tightening around nothing, and I squirm.

“Three,” I squeak when that big hand caresses the tender skin before gripping the area hard. “Four,” I rasp as the pain turns into a heated tingling that has my legs rubbing together.

I feel something hard below me. A rod of flesh, his dick, as it presses obscenely against my side.

He’s big.

The thought is startling and I try to ignore it. Now isn’t the time to—

THWACK!

“OH!” I’m wholly unprepared for the slap. Pain shoots through my backside and I groan. “Five.”

He releases my wrists, and my hands find his leg beneath me. Before I can push away, fingers circle my neck, squeezing the arteries lightly as two thick digits dip under my panties and run along the seam of my pussy.

I jolt, giving a shocked sound as he collects my juices before probing my entrance and pushing in deep.

There’s a loud squelch from my overly wet core and my face flames. “No!” I moan weakly.

The fingers fill me, quelling that aching hollowness. They reach deep, curling inside of me as they rub against something rough.

“ UHN! ” The sound comes from me involuntarily as my body squeezes. That heat that was pooling in my lower abdomen spreads, turning into a raging fire.

“ Good girl ,” he growls from above, his attention divided between the mirror and his pumping hand as he slicks his fingers in and out of me.

“Please,” I beg, my mind a jumbled mess. I’m unaware of what I’m even pleading for. My body is tight, my impending release causing my muscles to lock. But the slight fear still pulses in me, clearing some of my haze as I try to stop myself from giving this man what he wants.

He pushes in deeper, his knuckles pressed flush against my thighs as he starts a brutal rhythm, strumming the sensitive flesh inside of me. My back arches in response, my body betraying me as I chase the high of my orgasm.

“That’s it,” he purrs. “Cum on my fingers, baby. Fuck, you’re tight.”

“ Noooo ,” the word elongates and mixes with my moan as I melt, the euphoria pumping through my limbs and spreading through my core as I cum.

I find myself in the mirror, taking in my blushing, sweaty cheeks and chest.

Betrayer .

His fingers leave my opening, my channel giving another weak squeeze around nothing as my chest moves with labored breaths.

He lifts his hand, shoving his soaked digits under the balaclava and into his mouth. My eyes widen in the mirror, an unwelcome heat throbbing to life inside my overused pussy. I can’t look away as he tastes me, glacier blues rolling back with a groan.

His hand loosens on my neck and I gather my bearings, quickly lifting off of his lap as I snatch up my jeans and back away.

My ass stings. The cheek he abused is a heated ache as the fabric slides over it. I hiss, buttoning my pants back as the afterglow of my orgasm quickly dies with the dowsing coldness at the realization of what just happened.

But worst of all, the confusing recognition that I enjoyed it has my brain functioning over time.

I shouldn’t have liked that.

I shouldn’t have let him…

He stands, his half-lidded and lust-drunken eyes watching me. The air thickens and I take a few steps back, my gaze never leaving his.

He turns, walking over to the spilled wet ingredients on the floor. He bends down, picking up the metal mixing bowl before grabbing the mop and a few paper towels from the supply closet.

What the fuck is going on?

He does—that to me—then cleans up my mess? This is too much.

My head is reeling and I can’t even think of the situation I’m still in. My stalker is in my kitchen, wiping up the eggs and milk from the floor after fingering me to completion.

Hands grab my shoulders, startling me as softened blue eyes stare down at me. He pushes me back until I feel the bucket touch my calves. He motions to the makeshift seat with his head, silently asking me to sit.

I’m so utterly lost that I comply, plopping down as I blink at him. He goes back to the other side of the room, gathering what he can with paper towels and tossing them in the nearby trashcan before he uses the mop to clean up the rest.

He puts everything back where it goes before moving to stand before me. My back goes ramrod straight, my guard shooting up as he lifts a hand to my cheek, caressing it before he turns on his heel and walks out the back door.

It’s eerily quiet in the kitchen as I stare at the door he retreated out of. I don’t know what to do or even how to feel. I’m completely out of tune with my body, my mind floating and refusing to process anything that’s just happened.

“Loxley!” Addison calls from the lobby. I’m shunted back to reality, my stupor clearing as the swing door flies open and my friend pokes her head in. “Are you okay? Janette has been calling you, but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh,” I mumble, standing from the bucket before my feet carry me to where my phone is face down on the floor. I pick it up, wincing at the cracked screen.

Addie watches me, her dark brows drawn close. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

I stare at the device in my hand, blinking a few times before I shove it into my back pocket and give her a faux smile. “No. I’m fine.”

She nods, not seeming to catch the tension in the air before retreating to the lobby. Everything hits me and I curse myself for being obedient.

The fear prevented me from doing anything too rash, but now that I know this man doesn’t want to hurt me, it’s like my blood is filled with pure fucking rage.

I made this entirely too easy for him and I don’t plan to make the same mistake again. He wants the upper hand? He’s going to earn it.

My new resolve pushes me forward as I dig the number out of my pocket.

And I know just where to start.