Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 176345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 882(@200wpm)___ 705(@250wpm)___ 588(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 882(@200wpm)___ 705(@250wpm)___ 588(@300wpm)
“Hmm …”
I hear some smacking sounds.
Two, no, four feet.
I stay under the bed as they come closer while making what sounds like kissing noises.
“C’mon, it’s been too long,” a guy mumbles.
“You know I have so much homework to do tomorrow. I need to sleep.”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere. A smile erupts on my face. Lana. My little vicious kitty.
But the smile quickly dissipates as the guy’s feet hit the side of the bed.
“I can’t wait any longer. I need you,” the guy says.
“Jason …”
So it is him.
“But you’re still wearing that mask,” she murmurs.
“Doesn’t it make it extra spicy?” Jason replies. “Pretend I’m a handsome stranger whisking you away.”
They approach fast, and sweat drops roll down my face as they fall onto the bed.
Fuck. Too late to run now.
I can hear the smooches and feel the moans reverberate through the bed.
It’s almost like I’m … a part of it.
Clothes fly off left and right. Shoes first, hers clattering to the floor right beside my head. His shirt comes off next, then a pair of pants and a belt.
My teeth grind into each other so harshly I can hear it. Because above me, I can definitely hear them going at it.
Then a pair of panties drop to the floor. Newly worn panties that I didn’t rip apart.
Sick thoughts fill my mind with obsession as they kiss and roll around on the mattress. The filling of the bed dents downward, almost into me. My hand instinctively rises to feel the mattress bump, wondering if it’s her body. If I can feel her indirectly, touch her the way I did when I danced with her or when I cornered her in our pool room. When I made her come on her own goddamn blade.
But then the mattress begins to thump.
Fuck.
My hand inches toward my pocket, where I’ve grown increasingly aware of the knife poking into my body. I pull it out as the mattress dips and dips, and his grunts become more obvious with every passing second.
I take out my knife and point it at the mattress, my heart rate picking up as I’m hovering dangerously close to ripping everyone to shreds.
I would kill that motherfucker if we were alone.
But I don’t know who I’d hit first if I strike now. If my blade would penetrate his body … or hers.
And for some reason, the thought of my knife being thrust into her stomach is worse than his dick penetrating her as we speak, the same pussy I fucked with a knife mere hours ago.
That fucker … he’s still wearing one of our masks like he’s fucking one of us, and that doesn’t sit right with me.
Suddenly, Lana groans. “Are you finished yet?”
“Not yet,” Jason murmurs, teetering on the edge, and fuck me, I could gut him for even suggesting he’s going to burst inside her.
Lana sighs. “Hurry.”
“Ahhh, almost,” Jason says.
“Can you be a little more …?”
“More what?”
She sighs again. “I don’t know. More aggressive?”
More aggressive?
My eyes narrow, and a hint of a smile tugs at my lips.
Now why would she suggest that?
It’s quiet for some time while he’s pounding away like some lumberjack without giving a second thought to her needs and wants. But I don’t think that’s what she meant by aggressive.
“Fuck, I’m so tired,” Lana says.
“Just a minute more,” the fucker moans.
And the tip of the knife hovers so close to the mattress I’ve almost severed a strand.
It’s taking every ounce of self-control not to burst out and kill that motherfucker for trying. For making her sit through this mediocre, yawn-inducing self-absorbed meat slapping.
Jason sighs out loud too now, and the mattress dips less, then I see his feet appear next to the bed. “You know what, never mind. I’m gonna go take a shower. You go rest,” he says, and he marches off, socks and all.
Fuck that motherfucking leech.
I swallow away the rage and focus on her. She’s still in the bed, doesn’t move, doesn’t make a single sound. One single sigh follows before it goes quiet.
I retract my knife slowly.
Has she gone to sleep?
Color me surprised.
I would’ve expected her to get angry when he just made a mad dash for the shower after not getting his fill. Even though I didn’t hear her moan, didn’t hear even a semblance of pleasure coming from her. But maybe she was too tired to care.
Or maybe he just couldn’t fulfill her needs.
I suck in a breath and touch the mattress, which is far less bent than before, and I can almost feel her through the fabric, her movement, hear every small sound and every breath she takes. And for a second, I can’t even do anything but feel, wondering if she can feel me too in her dreams, if she’s thought of me the way I’ve thought of her. Because this little killer kitty has invaded every corner of my mind.