Page 51 of Vile Pucker

“I want to make a deal,” I said, looking up at him, the strong jawline, the uncanny perfection of his features.

“What kind of deal?”

“To get my love.”

“I don’t need you to love me. I can get whatever I want from you.”

But I knew this was bullshit by the flicker in those dead black eyes.

“You can’t get my love. You can’t get it willingly from me.”

“Withyou, I don’t care if it’s willing or not. As long as I get it. I’m bored of this conversation, come suck my dick.”

I said nothing, but as his breath skimmed over my throat, I turned around obediently and bent to his cock, taking the thick rod in my hands and wrapping my hands around the base so I could guide it into my mouth.

His fingers brushed the tracker on my neck, then tightened so they surrounded my throat.

“And what would you do differently if you loved me?”

I felt like floundering. What inducements could I give a psychopath?

“I’d—I’d want to talk to you. Want to ask about your day and tell you about mine.”

It seemed lame to my ears, but a muscle throbbed in his jaw, and he said jealously,

“I can get that now. I canmakeyou talk to me.”

“It’s not the same,” I said, gasping, as he ground my head down over his cock so I couldn’t speak.

I fought my gag reflex as he slid down my throat.

“Talk to me. Tell me your motherfuckingfeelings.”

Drool ran down my cheeks as I struggled to take his cock until he erupted without warning in my mouth, shooting jets of hot cum down my throat as I swallowed desperately.

“And what would I have to do?”

“Find the serial killer.”

He made a rude noise at me.

“What a prissy little do-gooder you are. How about you do me some good by turning around so I can put my finger in your ass and listen to you squeal?”

“Those are my terms.”

He scoffed, but for a moment. . .

Just a moment. . .

I thought he had wanted that.

Without waiting for me to obey, he twisted me around on his dick so I faced away from him and gripped my ass before pressing a thick finger inside. I wriggled, rolling my knees back and forth to try to make it easier to take him.

“I love thatmybaby is in that belly and you can’t do shit about it, except grow it good. Now I don’t want to hear any more about some killer.”

CHAPTER 15

In a few weeks, I finally started to get that first trimester nausea, which I used to get out of going to a game on Halloween.