Page 30 of Killer Confections (Syndicate Killers #1)

Loxley

The closer closing time gets, the more anticipation rushes through my veins. My body is expecting Atlas now and I feel like Pavlova’s dog. Did he condition me to enjoy closing time because he finds some new and stimulating way to bring me to tears from overstimulation and pleasure? Yes. Absolutely.

And I’m ready for my fix tonight as I slam the dishwasher closed and wipe down the tables. Janette and Scarlet share a look as they stack the clean trays atop the baker’s racks.

“Hot date?” Janette asks.

I shake my head. “I’ll worry about closing. You guys get going.”

Both women turn to each other before they fan themselves and wiggle their eyebrows at me.

Scarlet smirks as she winks. “Just clean up after you’re finished, boss.”

I roll my eyes as I shoo them out the door. I finish my cleaning duties and wait for the last batch of dishes to finish. Once everything is done, I cut the lights and lock up.

The door’s bell chimes behind me as I walk out onto the street lamp lit sidewalk. As usual, the nighttime is always quiet and the streets are empty. The darkness isn’t unsettling, but my whole body is a live wire.

He’s here somewhere.

My phone pings and I fish it out of my back pocket before thumbing the screen.

My Stalker 3 : Run.

My brows draw at the message before the loud rumbling of a motorcycle engine startles me and impossibly bright headlights start barreling towards me.

I nearly drop my phone (again) before I take off in a dead sprint in the opposite direction.

I pump my arms, forgetting about my purse smacking against my side as I head straight for my apartment.

The engine revs behind me, sounding like a gunshot in the dark as my lungs burn. I should be terrified. I should scream for help.

Instead, a face-splitting smile stretches to my ears as I force myself to move faster. My arms and legs pump in tandem as I let out a delirious, breathy laugh. I can hear Atlas gaining on me, but he hangs back, not ending the game as soon as it’s begun.

I near an alleyway that cuts across to a street connected to my apartment’s back entrance doors. I take it quickly, my feet nearly slipping on a puddle as I scramble to move down the narrow passage.

The bike idles for a second, and I spare Atlas a glance over my shoulder and instantly regret my decision. Piercing glacier eyes narrow on me. Not a hint of playfulness in them.

He looks starved, and his only prey is slipping right through his fingers.

I gulp before taking off toward my freedom with a renewed vigor I hadn’t felt before. The glee of being chased is quickly dashed, and now I feel a ravenous heat unfurling deep in my core.

There’s no telling what’s going to happen if he catches me.

When I break through the other side of the alleyway, I hear the distant retreating of the bike’s engine before it’s cut and then eerie silence has my heart slamming in my chest .

I suck air into my lungs as I push myself across the street and my feet hit the first steps leading to my apartment.

Victory is sweet, and I giggle as my hand reaches for the door.

It isn’t until a gloved palm slaps over my mouth and a thick arm wraps around my abdomen that the sinking feeling of being fucked crushes my mood. I’m yanked back into a hard chest, my hand still reaching out. I thrash, my fingers going to pry at his wrist as he drags me away from the door.

Breath fans my ear as lips ghost the shell. “Did you really think I chased you on my bike just to make you come in a bed? Nah, baby. Time to christen.”

Oh, god .

The way he sounds is making white-hot lust uncurl in me. His gravelly voice paired with his breathlessness is like listening to pure sex. His body is swallowing mine as he manhandles me and I have no desire to stop him.

What sane woman would? A behemoth of a man, who makes my insides turn to putty and treats me like I’m a fucking goddess, is about to give me an orgasm or two on his motorcycle.

I’m literally living a dream.

But I know we’re still playing. CNC has always been a fantasy of mine. Apparently it’s Atlas’s as well. He never takes it too far. If I don’t like something or I seem uncomfortable, we’re quick to discuss things and reassess. He’s kept it safe and fun, all while taking care of me after a scene.

I fight against him, shoving my amusement down for the sake of the act.

He carries me back towards the street, taking a left into an empty, rundown parking lot that’s blocked in by buildings.

It’s small and quiet, devoid of cameras and anyone who could see us.

He walks us over to his parked bike, the sleek black paint shining under the minimal street lighting.

“You almost made it,” he taunts in my ear, sounding mocking.

His hand leaves my mouth before encasing the column of my throat tightly and forcing me to look up at him.

His head is turned and his mask pulled up over his nose, but I can see the sardonic expression on his face.

“My sweet girl. You can never escape me. I thought we covered this?”

My throat bobs and my lips twitch. “I… I think I need another lesson. I’ve never been good at listening…”

His eyes narrow as his chest rumbles in a warning.

“I’ll show you again just how much you belong to me, but listen closely, baby,” he nuzzles the side of my head, clothed lips pressing against my heated cheek.

“I don’t like to repeat myself. Some advance for the future?

The next time we play, it would be in your best interest to acknowledge you’re mine.

Like a good girl. If I have to give this lesson again, I won’t be so nice . ”

I nod deftly, entranced by the man looming over me like a shadow of death.

His words ring with truth and promise, but I find myself walking the fine line of danger nowadays.

It’s not good to provoke the beast, to poke the bear, but that’s all I want to do.

I want to find the sharpest stick I can and fuck with Atlas until he drops that mask and the act.

I want to see just how deep his obsession goes.

And defying him only makes the scene more fun. He goes caveman on me and my poor feminist ideals suffer a grand death in his wake. I recover them once my brain is no longer goopy and I can move without my limbs wobbling pathetically, but I can’t seem to keep a straight head around him.

It’s nice to not think and let someone else take control.

At my lack of response, he loses any patience he once possessed. Hands move to my jeans, ripping them open before shoving them down my thighs.

“Wait!” I gasp.

He grips my throat, growling in my ear. “I’m done waiting for what’s mine . You’re going on that fucking bike and you’re gonna soak the seat. Do you understand me?”

I nod, a whimper falling from me as my legs clench at the flood of arousal that coats my thighs.

Everything is slick and I feel like I’m on the brink of begging.

His nasty words always do something to me, pushing my mind to become hazy and relaxed.

I stop trying to fight him off and let him take me for the ride.

He removes my pants and panties, shucking them aside forcefully before hefting me onto the bike.

I’m seated sideways, one of my legs propped on the seat while the other dangles before I extend my foot and allow my toes to hold me up.

The bike is huge, and it feels sturdy enough to hold me without buckling, but I find myself looking around and checking things out before a thumb and finger pinch my chin and pull my attention back.

“You’re not gonna fall, baby,” Atlas coos, his eyes softening. “I won’t let you.”

I nod. “Someone could see us—”

“I will shove your panties in your mouth if you keep talking like that,” he warns. “No one is going to see us. I can barely see you as it is. Just don’t make too much noise and we’ll be fine.”

Easier said than done.

I’m rather loud when it comes to sex with Atlas. Hands down, twenty out of ten stars experience and I show it.

I roll my lips in, nodding. He closes his eyes, a huff of laughter leaving him before he places his hands on either side of my hips and hangs his head.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he mutters before dropping to his knees and propping my dangling leg over his shoulder. “Don’t be afraid to get the seat wet, baby. I want to lick it clean when we’re done.”

Oh.

That shouldn’t be nearly as hot as it is, but I don’t have the time to become flustered over his words before he shoves his face into my folds and parts me with his nose and tongue. I throw my head back, mouth open as the overly wet, obscene sounds coming from him fill our secluded parking lot.

I’m embarrassingly sopping, but that only seems to encourage him as he circles my clit and slicks a finger through my wetness. My core gives a hollow ache and the whimper that leaves me causes my cheeks to stain pink.

“Shhh,” he coos. “I know what you need, baby.” He pushes the first digit into me and my pussy pulses around him. “Fuck, you’re so tight. My cock is going to ruin you, Loxley.”

Oh, god.

I want him to so bad, but we never go past oral.

He said he isn’t going to fuck me until I can say with confidence who he is.

After this week, his name has been on the tip of my tongue every time we do this.

I’m so close to just blurting his name so he can cool the fire in my body, but I’m still not quite there.

Almost…

He pushes another finger into me, stretching my pussy as he groans. The vibration moves through my sensitive core and I slap a hand over my mouth as I muffle a moan.

He peers up at me and I stop breathing. Those blue eyes hold me, showing me so much that’s remained unsaid. I’m so enraptured by watching him devour me, I can’t look away. Not even as my bones turn to jelly and the heat in my core burns through my limbs, quick and heavy.