Page 77 of Obsession

“Please…”

“I like you needy and begging.” He dips his fingers between my legs again and trails a single digit over my slit. “So wet for me.”

“Robbie—”

Hushing me, he circles my entrance before sliding a finger inside. Pleasure pools between my thighs, and I bite my lip hard to stop the moan that wants to cut through the silent night, but it slips out unbidden. A raw and husky plea for more.

My cheek has grown numb, pressed against the snowy, sanded path.

“The cops will find you,” I croak as my pussy pulses around his pumping finger, which slides against my inner walls in a seductive, mind-blowing rhythm. Heat blooms low in my stomach, and as the coil in my core tightens, I see stars.

“No one can keep me from you, Savannah. Not now that I’ve had a taste.”

“Please,” I beg.

I’m strung so tight that his touch borders on painful. I need release. Need it so fucking badly.

Sliding his finger out, he circles my swollen clit. “You shouldn’t have come looking for the monster.”

“Oh, fuck,” I choke, tensing every muscle in my body.

“I might just eat you alive.” He shoves two fingers inside me and whispers, “Leave you to bleed out in the snow after you’re done drenching my fingers and cock like a greedy whore.”

His filthy words tip me over the edge.

I come, exploding around his digits in the dead of night on a snowy footpath. He keeps up his assault on my convulsing pussy until the last of my climax ebbs away, leaving me blissed out and barely aware of how cold I am beneath the receding climax.

I open my mouth to ask him to stay at my house—the cops don’t have to suspect a thing—but he’s already blending with the shadows.

33

THE BRIDGE KILLER

Her feet kick out on the icy path as she struggles beneath my iron grip on her throat. It’s fast. Intense. Over in a heartbeat. One minute, she’s clawing at my thick sleeves. Then the next, her struggle ceases, and she grows lax.

Silence descends.

I crack my neck, squeezing her slender throat. Her wildly thrashing pulse has stopped. And now, there’s nothing beneath my fingertips.

Power thrums through my veins. I’m hard, and it annoys the hell out of me. I’m not a rapist. I don’t stoop that low. But the urge to bury myself balls-deep inside her pussy has my teeth grinding together. I release her with a frustrated growl, pants wet from kneeling in the snow.

With every kill, the desire to defile my victims grows stronger. I want to rut. Grind my cock against her cunt to alleviate this sickening lust. Especially when she looks so much likeher.I’m better than this, for fuck’s sake. I create my own path. I don’t fall victim to such petty desires when I have a much greater goal in mind.

I quickly strip off her clothes, and my cock aches inside my jeans when her pale tits are revealed. They’re perfect.

Too perfect.

I squeeze one, watching the flesh mold beneath my grip. If she’d been alive, she’d cry out in pain, but she’s not. She’s dead.

Sitting back, I take a mental snapshot of her splayed out in the snow. Her dark hair reminds me of a halo, and her plump lips look made to swallow cock.

I sigh disappointedly when I spot the bruising on her neck. Normally, I’m careful to cause as little ruin as possible. My perfect display is not so perfect anymore.

Climbing off her, I go to grab my backpack off the ground. I zip it open and pull out the hacksaw. Then I kneel over her, grabbing one of her huge tits. The first cut is always the most satisfying. Blood floods to the surface and spills over the sides of her pale ribs, soaking through the fabric at my knees. I bite down hard to fight the urge to come inside my pants when the serrated blade cuts through the mound of flesh gripped in my palm. It’s surprisingly easy to sever a breast. Not like the head.

When both breasts are gone, I set to work on her arms and legs, pressing down hard on the thigh to keep it still while I saw through the bone. It requires quite a lot of effort on my part. When I’m done, sweat beads on my top lip. I wipe it off with the back of my bloodied, gloved hand, the stench of copper prickling my nose.

I’m still so achingly hard that it borders on painful. I need to fuck someone tonight.