The Mad Kitty (The Kitty Chronicles )

by V Vee

  “Damn, you’re so tight. Your pussy is so fucking good, baby,” he moaned, looking down into my face. “I’m sorry, I know I’m beating this pussy like a drum. Just tell me if you need me to slow down and give you a minute.”

  I shook my head and panted simultaneously. “No, just like that, daddy. It feels so good. Give me more,” I purred.

  “Fuck,” he growled the profanity then set about his task of murdering my pussy with his dick. Really giving his all. He stroked, thrust, wound his hips, pounded, and dragged, working in combinations that didn’t give my thirsty ass pussy a chance to recover. His strokes, however, had me climbing the wall, digging my nails into his shoulders. Noticing that I shouldn’t have been surprised that he focused his attention on that. My juices gushed around his shaft, as I jerked underneath him. He just continued to shallowly thrust his way right through my orgasm. I thought he was done when he stopped. But damn was I wrong.

  So very, very wrong.

  He flipped me onto my stomach and kneeled behind me to lap at my pussy from behind. I trembled and screamed out his name, my hands sliding beneath my pillows, burying my head in the bedsheets. His strong fingers parted my ass cheeks, as he buried his face between them.

  “Oh my God,” I cried out. No one had ever eaten me out so thoroughly. So completely. I came again, but still, he wasn’t finished. His hand came down to slap my ass before he placed his hand around my throat.

  “You good?”

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  “Good,” he said, before lining up his cock and plunging back into me. I used my arms to hold on to the sheets, as he pounded me so hard, that I moved up the bed until my head collided with the headboard. He slapped my ass with every other stroke, and though I couldn’t say I believed in a God, or a Higher Power, at that moment, it was only his name and that of this all-powerful deity that I could say.

  Holy. Shit. That dildo was magic.

  Chapter Eight

  Ludwig

  I’d always planned to beat this pussy up like it was a person of color and I was a racist cop. To straight murder it. In between jobs, I’d been jerking off in the shower with thoughts of some sort of bomb ass, magic pussy floating around in my head. The real thing was better than I ever could have imagined.

  “You like that, Katrina?” I asked, slapping her fat ass again.

  “Yes,” she whimpered, as her juices squirted out from her cunt around my dick. I grasped the headboard and really started to nail her to it. I should have been gentler with her, she was like a delicate flower to my bloodstained, serrated-edge knife, but all I’d ever known was killing and fucking. And since I had no plans to kill her, right now, I was going to fuck the shit out of her. That tight pussy was too good to do anything but.

  I bit my lip as sweat drenched my face, dripping down onto her ass. That shit turned me on like nobody’s business. The sight of my sweat on her brown skin and my tanned cock thrusting in and out of her brown and pink pussy was driving me insane. Not to mention the sound of my hips, slapping her cheeks with each pound.

  “Fuck, Katrina. I want to come all in this pussy,” I groaned.

  I thought back to her lips wrapped around my cock and my groin tightened even more, causing me to swell inside of her. I wasn’t going to last too much longer.

  “Please, Ludwig, please,” she cried. “Come with me, daddy,” she demanded, as I reached for her clit. Her loud screams had me shuddering with my own climax. I came so hard, my scalp tingled, and my chest felt tight. I’d never come like this before. I was pretty sure I never would again.

  “Fuck!” I roared, pressing my head into the headboard, as I caught my breath.

  Katrina wiggled free of the position I placed her in. I shifted to lie on my side and pulled her into me. I kissed her shoulder and inhaled.

  That pussy was so fucking good…

  “Fuck,” I groaned as I reached down to remove the condom, noticing the tear in it, and my cum leaking out.

  Chapter Nine

  Katrina

  I stared down at Ludwig sleeping peacefully in my bed and another shiver raced through me. An aftershock of the explosive orgasm I’d just experienced. I felt as if I were existing in a state of hyperrealism. Who knew it was possible to have multiple orgasms in one sexual encounter? I’d heard other women talk about it but had never been the recipient until I met him.

  Stop staring, Kat, and get out of bed.

  I pushed myself away from Ludwig, chuckling softly when he growled in his sleep and tried to pull me closer. It was as if he didn’t to let me go. It was an awesome feeling.

  And honestly? I didn’t want him to let me go either.

  Shaking away fanciful thoughts of white picket fences, dark-haired, multiracial children, and lazy Saturdays wrapped in each other’s arms, I headed for my robe lying on the armchair in my room. I could hear Brian’s paws scratching at the door and I walked over to let him in. He must have finished eating the food I’d left for him in his bowl, otherwise he never would have bothered to come and seek me out. When I opened the door, Brian sauntered in, his tail flicking the air, before he wound his body around my feet. After he’d successfully “marked” me in his way, he stretched out his feline body in utter “cat-entment” and strode on his delicate paws to the bed. He leapt onto the mattress and curled up in a ball to sleep.

  It must be nice to be a cat with no worries, I thought to myself, shaking my head at my “loaner cat’s” antics. I was pretty sure that someone, somewhere, was missing Brian, the cat. And once I got the opportunity, I would take him to the vet to see if he was chipped.

  You’ve had plenty of chances to do so, my inner voice said. That bitch. She was always pointing out when I was doing something wrong. You have been procrastinating because you don’t want to be left alone in this house anymore. Face it, you’re lonely, Katrina.

  I snorted on a silent laugh, waving my hand when Brian opened one slanted cat-eye to stare at me in feline frustration. Realizing that I was disturbing His Highness’s sleep, I turned to head to the bathroom, my earlier destination. As I walked, I could feel the evidence of my shared passion with Ludwig leaking from within me to drip down my legs. I froze as my rational mind caught up with my reality. We’d had sex. Crazy, mind-blowing, kinky ass sex, and the condom had broken right as we’d both careened over the edge.

  Oh. Shit.

  I wasn’t on birth control because the chemicals within that particular contraceptive, whether it was the pill, the IUD, or the shot, my body reacted negatively to each one. But I didn’t think I had anything to worry about. What were the odds that the first time I have sex with a man—after enduring a long sex drought—and the condom breaks, I would get pregnant? Not likely I was guessing. But to be on the safe side I would go to the pharmacy the next day to pick up some Plan B™.

  I cleaned up in my bathroom then headed for the guest bedroom which also doubled as my makeshift studio. With the possibility of recording my very own jazz album, signing a recording contract, and finally, finally, having all my dreams come true, it was more important than ever for me to practice, practice, practice. A knot formed in my stomach, anxiety riding me high as I thought about the contract Andrew left for me to look over and sign. Nervousness and panic at the thought of failing, or hell, even the thought of succeeding, rode me hard. Much like Ludwig had ridden me only moments before.

  What the fuck? I thought the obsidian crystal dildo—or glass—whatever it was, was supposed to remove negative emotions? To bring peace and tranquility? What was this? I felt just as anxiety ridden as I had before.

  That bitch at the store ripped me off.

  Not necessarily a charitable thought, but I couldn’t exactly be all “Peace unto you,” when I was twisted up inside with barely restrained panic. I frowned and sighed, knowing I would have to turn back to an old, trusted friend. I picked up my neon blue bong and opened the drawer in the nightstand to pull out my stash. I was just preparing to light up when I heard Ludwig’s deep voi
ce coming from the other room. Rising, I put everything down on the bed: lighter, bong, weed, and headed back to the doorway of my bedroom.

  Ludwig was sitting up on the edge of the bed, the sheets draped lovingly across his groin, his right hand buried in Brian’s fur. Both of them looked beyond content and peaceful. I found myself being envious of the tranquility they both had.

  “I haven’t slept that well in a long time,” Ludwig confessed.

  I quirked an eyebrow and laughed softly.

  “You barely slept at all,” I pointed out. Ludwig looked up at me, his dark brown, almost black eyes burning with an unholy, decidedly naughty gleam. My body reacted almost immediately, and I had to cross my legs in order to not give myself away.

  I couldn’t fool Ludwig, however, he seemed capable of noticing any and every little thing, whether I wanted him to or not. Right now it was embarrassing, but I knew the day would come when I would be annoyed at my inability to hide anything from him.

  Hold on. Wait. Why was I thinking as if Ludwig and I were in a relationship? As if this wasn’t just a one-night, or possibly, a one-weekend fling. I’d heard of women becoming dickmatized and planning their lives, weddings, and futures around a man that had really good dick, a.k.a. “devil dick”, but just like with the multiple orgasms, I never thought I would be one of those women who had the privilege to have that type of experience. It seemed as if I were wrong on both counts.

  Ludwig smirked at me, as if he could read my thoughts, and was aware of the direction my mind had turned. He lifted both of his massively muscled arms up into a stretch, never releasing my gaze from his own, and let out a groan. I bit my lower lip, swallowing back a whimper, as my eyes followed the movement of his tendons and muscles as they munched and released underneath his tanned skin. My mouth watered.

  It should be a crime for a man to be this fine.

  Ludwig rose from the bed and strode towards me. His long, thick shaft, that had only an hour or so ago been buried inside of my tight pussy, one we were both blessed to have the opportunity to handle in some way, moved, flopped, and smacked against his trunk-like thighs. I wanted to kneel before him and take that dick into my mouth again. To swallow as much of him as I could. To hear him gasp and moan my name as he had before. To feel his fingers bunch up in my hair as he fucked my face.

  Grunting.

  Growling.

  Hissing.

  Moaning.

  Because of me.

  For me.

  I blinked and Ludwig was standing directly in front of me. He lifted a hand and stroked his fingers down one of my cheeks. I shivered at his touch, my body swaying toward him without my permission. My anxiety from earlier was but a distant memory. Now I was burning with desire. My heart thundering in my chest while my body felt heavy, weighty, and yet boneless at the same time.

  It was like being high without ever taking a hit.

  “I’m a man who is used to sleeping on in thirty-minute intervals thanks to my job. I am always alert. Always fully aware of my surroundings. Always ready to take action. And yet… I never feel fully rested. Even when I sleep for hours at a time,” Ludwig explained. “It comes with the territory of my career. My senses are always hyper-focused, and I am always hyper-aware. I don’t rest. I pause in between missions, responsibilities. I don’t fully sleep, and yet here? With you? I feel as though I have caught up on every second, every minute, every hour, every week, every month, and every year of missed sleep that I’ve ever had.”

  I stare up at Ludwig in surprise. Flattered by his words. Moved by the look of wonder, awe, and amazement on his face. No man had ever looked at me like that before. No one had ever looked at me like that before. It made me feel… precious.

  Treasured.

  Wanted.

  How… intoxicating.

  Ludwig shook his head and wrapped his arms around me.

  “You are apparently my peace, Katrina.”

  Just as I went to respond, the sound of gunfire and glass shattering sounded from downstairs. I gasped, turning to see if someone had broken in or if it was a drive-by. This was Maine, however, not exactly known for its gangs and crimes. So what the hell was going on?

  But before I could react further, or even go to investigate, Ludwig pushed me into the bedroom, slamming the door closed. He looked around quickly before grabbing a pair of my sweatpants that were lying on the top of my dresser. He pulled them on, the fabric clinging to his thighs, butt, and calves, and I worried for a moment that he would split the seams. However, those thoughts died when he opened my drawers and began grabbing clothes, tossing them at me.

  “Get a bag!” He commanded. Though I was slow to comply, I eventually rushed to grab a large, pink duffle and began to shove my clothes inside it.

  “What’s happening?” I yelled, my voice surprisingly strong and calm, not shaking with the fear I could feel simmering deep within me.

  “Someone is trying to kill me, and they obviously followed me here. Which means that you’re no longer safe either.”

  I blinked and held up a hand.

  “What do you mean someone’s trying to kill you? Why would someone want to murder you?”

  Ludwig twisted away from the bedroom door where he was posted up, groaned and turned to look at me over his shoulder. “I don’t have time to explain, Katrina.”

  I crossed my arms.

  “If someone is going to be trying to kill me because they want to kill you, and I associated myself with you, I have the right to know everything. So I suggest you make time to fucking give me an explanation,” I replied, my voice tense with anger.

  Ludwig sighed and shook his head. When he turned to look back at me once again, his eyes were dark, flat, emotionless. Fear gripped my insides as dread snaked its way around my organs up to my mind where it gripped it tightly.

  “It’s because of my job,” Ludwig said. “I’m a hired assassin and an enforcer with the Irish mob.”

  My mouth dropped open. I wanted to call him a liar, but I could tell by looking at him that he was being honest. I panted, loudly, stumbling backwards, then…

  My world went black.

  Chapter Ten

  Ludwig

  I groaned as I caught Katrina in my arms before she could hit the ground. This was so not what I needed. I had no way of knowing exactly who it was that had fired into Katrina’s home and I needed that intel so I would know how to proceed. I looked around her room, my mind racing through various options and scenarios as I tried to figure out how to get the both of us out of here alive.

  Weapons? Downstairs.

  Car keys? Downstairs.

  Clothes? Downstairs.

  All of them in the front entryway, away from the back exit.

  Two story home. Drop wouldn’t be so bad for me, but unaware of Katrina’s complete physical state.

  I needed to get us out of there. Or at the very least, I needed to get Katrina to safety. I could not believe the feeling of protectiveness and possessiveness that had arisen inside of me at the thought of anyone harming a hair on Katrina’s head.

  She was my peace.

  I was her protector.

  It was a vow I didn’t make lightly. Realizing that I couldn’t even call Andrew for help, I walked back over to the bed to place Katrina on top of it. Brian rose from where he’d been perched on the bed, the sound of gunshots not even fazing the too chill cat and cuddled up to Katrina’s side. It was a very… pleasant image. One that caused my heart to clench, my palms to dampen, and my mouth to go dry. I was imagining a future—something I’d never done before—and in it I saw Katrina, lying on a bed much as she was right then, but instead of a cat, I could see a beautiful, tiny, caramel-colored baby napping beside her. The baby was half Katrina…

  And half me.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  I had to get out of there. Get Katrina to safety, then walk away. My job was too dangerous for me to even consider or entertain the idea of having a relationship. There was just no way. Non
e. I was a violent and deadly force to be reckoned with ninety percent of the time, and Katrina?

  Katrina had fucking plants and flowers everywhere.

  She was all bright colors. Positivity. Smiles. Laughter. Love and sunshine. While I figured out the best way to kill a person and not get caught on a daily basis. While wearing black clothes and a grim expression on my face.

  Shame washed over me but left quickly much to my surprise. With it, the guilt, the anger, the self-recrimination, the pain of my past… they all just fled as if they’d never been. I stood in the middle of the bedroom, my hands shaking for the first time since I was sixteen. My mind calm and focused on one thing and one thing only.

  Run.

  I shook my head trying to rid myself of the coward’s motto. I wanted to stay and fight. To get Katrina to safety, then hunt down every last person who’d put her in danger… and make them pay. And yet…

  I didn’t want to do any of those things.

  What the fuck had happened to me?

  Before I could take more mental or physical stock of my well-being, Katrina began to moan on the mattress, before sitting upright with a gasp. I watched her as her eyes swiftly touched on or moved over everything in the room, including Brian, the cat—before finally settling on me.

  She lowered her eyebrows. “A-are you r-really a-a-an…” she stammered.

  “An assassin?” I finished for her, for some reason wanting to laugh at her expression.

  Katrina nodded, then glanced away before returning her gaze to me. Steeling her shoulders and her spine, she lifted her chin and regarded my coolly.

  “Okay, Mr. Assassin Man… What’s our play here?”

  ***

  I lead Katrina slowly, cautiously, down the stairs, my ears pricked for the barest of sounds. I don’t hear anything but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone, or someones there. Any assassin worth their salt knows how to be quiet. Could be a ghost. Silent. Invisible. And while I was one of the best, I had not disillusioned myself into thinking that someone couldn’t get the drop on me. It would just be incredibly hard for them to do so.