Page 12 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats (Till Death Do Us Part #1)
Chapter Nine
Atticus
Cool air brushes along my skin, and I open my eyes. Lilah is kneeling beside me, throwing her leg over my hips, the blankets down at the bottom of the bed.
“Morning,” she says, leaning down to kiss my lips. “I think I owe you something.” She grinds her bare pussy along my dick, and I let out a groan, the heat of her pussy making my cock pulse.
“You don’t owe me anything, Kitten.”
“I came twice last night, and you didn’t get to come at all.”
Her hands slide up my bare chest, stopping at my shoulders.
“I took care of myself,” I say.
She frowns, her brows knitting together. “You took care of yourself?”
I think she sounds mad. Her tone changed and the expression on her face tells me she’s upset about something.
“Yeah, after you fell asleep.”
She sits back, adding more pressure to my dick, pouting. “That’s not nice.”
Not nice?
“How is it not nice? I did it so you wouldn’t have to.”
“But I want to.”
“Because you think you owe me?” I ask.
“I do.”
I sit up, pulling her against me and wrapping my arms around her so she can’t get free.
“We’re going to get something straight right here, right now.” Her eyes widen, lips parting slightly. “I do not do things that I don’t want to. I will not do something only to get something in return. If I make you come, it’s because I want to. If I fuck you, it’s because I want to.”
She lets out a sigh. “So you didn’t want to fuck me?”
“Of course I wanted to, but I thoroughly enjoyed what I did. I only jerked off to make my dick behave so I could sleep.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“How doesn’t it make sense?”
“When your dick is hard, don’t you want to fuck?”
“No, not always.”
“That doesn’t make sense!” she shouts, throwing her arms up.
“You don’t even have a dick to know what makes sense about one,” I argue.
“I’ve seen enough of them.”
“And I bet they were all attached to the most upstanding gentlemen,” I say sarcastically.
She frowns. “This is how this is going to go, Kitten. Neither of us does things because they feel that they have to. I don’t need a pity fuck, or you fucking me because you think you have to.
When we fuck, it’ll be because you want it for you . I’m not into anything else.”
“But I…”
I raise a brow, waiting for her to explain.
This is why I don’t do the people thing or the sex thing.
It’s complicated. Though I have thought about fucking her, I was perfectly fine eating her out and making her come.
I was trying to go to sleep, but my dick was hurting, so I jerked off.
I didn’t particularly want to do it, but I needed to if I wanted to get to sleep. Fucking her this soon is not an option.
“What, Kitten?” I ask, keeping my tone soft and brushing some hair out of her face.
“I just want to take care of you the way you take care of me. I want to make you feel good.”
“You want to or feel like you have to?” I ask.
I hate when people do things for me because they feel like they have to. It’s what people have done to me my entire life. No one ever hangs out with me because they want to. No one takes care of me because they want to. They’re obligated or paid. I’m fucking tired of it.
“I want to,” she says firmly.
“You better not be lying to me,” I growl.
“I’m not, Atty. I promise.”
“Fine,” I say as I drop back onto the bed. “Let’s go then.” I gesture to my dick. “But we’re not fucking. You can make me come with your mouth.”
She rolls her eyes before sliding down my body, hooking her fingers in my waistband to pull down my briefs. My dick pops free and her eyes widen, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
“It’s not going to suck itself,” I say as she stares down at it, eager to taste it but not doing anything about it.
Her hand wraps around me and she squeezes out the precum oozing out at the head, dipping down to lick it up.
“Fuck,” I growl out, my hand going to her head.
I push her down, and she opens, taking me to the back of her throat.
I grit my teeth as she moans, so I lift my hips, making my dick go even further.
Her throat contracts around me, and she pushes on my thighs like she’s trying to lift off, but I hold her down harder until I’m ready to let her go.
When I do, she jerks away, panting for breath, looking at me with tears in her eyes.
“What the fuck,” she breathes out. “You trying to kill me?”
“No,” I answer honestly. “Not really.”
“Not really?” she shouts. “Look, if I’m just here for you to play with for a while before you kill me, you can tell me now.”
I huff out a laugh. “I don’t want to kill you, Kitten. Trust me.”
Her gaze goes from my face back to my dick. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” I hold my hand up. “Promise I am not trying to kill you. I know what I’m doing. And I will not hurt you. At least, not more than you want.”
She blinks a few times, then nods, going back to my dick. She puts it in her mouth again, and this time when I push her down, she doesn’t fight me. When I let her up, she sucks in a breath and smiles at me.
“Now imagine choking on my cock while I kept you on the edge of orgasm,” I say to her. She moans around my dick happily.
Maybe I should tell her that I have killed someone during sex. It was one time, and the girl was a fucking mess. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I was having a rough day.
I don’t get off on killing people in a sexual way.
Not into raping people. Necrophilia is definitely not my thing.
Not even all that much into sex. I’ve done it, but it’s never been a great experience.
Not the way people talk about it. But maybe that’s because it wasn’t with the right person.
Because the way my kitten is letting me use her mouth has me never wanting to stop.
She takes me deeper and relaxes more. The more relaxed she gets, she lets me hold her down longer.
Before I know it, I’m coming so fucking hard I see stars.
She coughs and chokes around my dick, the contractions making the orgasm even better.
My cum drips from her mouth because she can’t take it all.
“Fuck!” she cries out when I finally let her up. I run a hand through my hair, then glance down at her. She’s panting, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’m soaked.” I raise a brow as she crawls up my body. “Make me come again?”
“It’s so fucking hot that you ask.”
I scoot down the bed and shove her up to sit on my face. She rides my tongue for less than a minute before she’s gushing all over me, crying out her release. After that, we fall asleep together until late afternoon.
“Did you mean what you said last night?” she asks.
“I mean everything I say.”
“Is that possible?”
I shrug. “I learned a long time ago that pretending to be a better person doesn’t mean you get treated better. So what’s the point in wasting my energy?”
“Smart words.”
We get out of bed a short time later, and I make us breakfast. She helps me clean up the kitchen afterward, even though I tell her she doesn’t have to.
Lilah busies herself with laundry, such a domestic task, while I go to the library and focus on the information I do have on my brother.
I’m still waiting for Gavin to call me back to let me know if he can help me out or not.
I suppose I could do some digging on my own, but I’m not sure I’m very good at being discreet.
I don’t know how to cover my tracks on the internet.
But is being discreet needed?
I pick up my phone and search the number for the Boston police station. There are a ton of locations, and I can’t begin to guess which he works at. Nothing Gavin gave me says either way.
I’m met with an automated message on the phone, and I go through the prompts to get to my brother, even typing out his last name when it asks.
“I’m sorry. The name you’ve entered has come back with zero searches.”
“Fuck,” I growl, ending the call and dropping my phone to the desk.
I take a deep breath and try again, this time with another location.
I get the same message, so I press different numbers to speak with someone.
Every person I reach tells me they don’t know who James Erickson is or that they can’t connect me due to security concerns—whatever that means.
Dead fucking end.
I guess the only way I’m going to find him is if I go to him directly. Who knows how long Gavin is going to take to get back to me, if he gets back to me at all. Meaning, I’m on my own.