by Chiah Wilder
In one movement, she was on her back and he was hovering over her, his palm grazing her exposed breasts. A guttural moan rose from deep in her throat when he sucked her nipples, gently at first but then with a ferocity that both titillated and frightened her. Kisses, licks, and bites covered her neck, shoulders, throat, tits, and belly, and as he colored her pale skin with shades of red, her pussy flooded with heat. Her body wanted everything he could give it and much more.
Clasping her wrists firmly, he raised them above her head and held them there while he tormented her body with hot, fervid kisses. “You like that?” he said against her skin.
Panting, she breathed, “Yeah.” Looking at her, he swallowed her pants as his free hand tickled her taut skin lightly. The way he touched and looked at her left her pussy tingling and throbbing.
Dragging his mouth down her throat, he said, “Leave your hands above your head.” He brought his down to her flesh, tweaking, pinching, and scratching their way down to her aching, sopping sex. When he slowly pulled her thong down with his teeth, the anticipation of what was to come was agony for her. He kissed his way up from her feet to her inner thighs. Heat pulsed between her legs.
When he slid his finger into her wet, engorged folds, lightning bolted up her spine. “Muerto,” she gasped as she clawed at the headboard. She was already on the edge.
His day-old scruff scratched her as he moved his face close to her sex. Inhaling deeply, his gaze, heated by lust, captured hers. “I can’t get enough of your smell.”
Desire tore through her and she pushed his face into her aching pussy. His chuckle vibrated against the sensitive folds, fueling the fire of passion even more. At first, his tongue teased her softly, slowly, but then he picked up the pace, licking her like he was possessed.
“Oh… fuck!” she cried out. Each moan, each cry seemed to drive him faster, reaching a frenzied state, until her insides lit up as if emblazoned with glitter paint and streaks of color floated deep in her. Closing her eyes, the sheet stuffed in her fist, she rode the waves of neon green, yellow, and purple. And as the spasms and colors mixed together and became a rainbow, her body rose higher, ethereal in its ascent.
Before she came back down, he was kissing her, mixing her salty sweetness with his smokiness, his tongue and hers tangling in a seductive dance.
“That was unbelievable,” she said as she dug her fingers into his hard flesh.
“Watching you come is what’s unbelievable.” He stroked her cheek and kissed her again, more gently.
“Let me take care of you,” she said softly as she inched her hand down toward his hardness.
Without a word, he leaned back and guided her to her knees, her back to him. Rubbing her creamy, tight butt cheeks, he whispered in her ear, “You’ve got one hell of an ass, sweetie. Has anyone ever fucked it?”
Stiffening, she shook her head. “Never.”
“‘Never because you didn’t want it, or because no one ever asked?” He kept massaging her ass, his fingers sinking into her flesh.
“I don’t know. I guess because no one ever asked.” She swallowed. “Are you asking?”
“Yeah. I like the idea of me being your first.”
“I’ve always wondered about it. I don’t know if I want to do it now.”
“I have to prepare you, so another time. I just wanted to know if you wanted it.” A smack on her ass made her jump. “And I’m glad you do.” Another smack. Then another. The more he spanked her cheeks, the wetter she got. Then when the sting was on the cusp of being painful, he licked the redness with his cool tongue. She couldn’t believe how turned on she was.
Muerto pushed her legs further apart and slid under her, his fingers digging into her hips, coaxing her downward. She felt his warm breath on her swollen, throbbing pussy, and the slow swipe of his velvet tongue made her shiver and wiggle in delight. His tongue bathed her fevered flesh, tasting and teasing it, bringing her to the brink of orgasm and then pulling back. Each time she was ready to go over, he moved away, making her a quivering mess of desire and lust.
Then he slipped from under her and spread her juices over her ass. “So tempting,” he said as he squeezed her cheeks, pulling them apart. Placing his finger on her puckered opening, he pressed hard against it, and a zap of electric heat ripped through her. Looking behind her shoulder, she loved seeing the way he watched his finger dip slightly into her tightest hole. Glancing at her, he leaned over and kissed her lower back.
He opened the nightstand drawer and took out a packet.
“I want to feel your rawness inside me. Are you clean?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Yeah. Are you on the pill?”
She nodded and smiled when he put the packet back in the drawer and closed it. The nudge of his cock against her slick opening had her pussy clenching in anticipation. His lips on her back made her tingle, and she gasped when he grabbed her hair and pulled, her back arching and her ass high in the air. Then he drilled into her with such ferocity that she screamed from the sheer force of it.
While he rode her, he smacked her ass, tugged on her swinging tits, and stroked her hard, sweet nub. His frenzied thrusts made her senses reel and her body explode. “I love the way your ass bounces when I fuck you hard,” he breathed as he clenched one of her ass cheeks. “My cock has been craving your tight pussy since you first walked in the bar.” More pounding. Her moans mingled with Muerto’s feral grunts.
Harder. Faster. Rougher. The pressure was building. So tight. So damn good.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to get out of my bed,” he said. At that, the tension in her exploded and she soared while euphoria filled every cell in her body.
“Muerto!” she screamed over and over again.
He growled low and deep. “Fuck. Raven. Fuck.” His hands rubbed along her damp back. Her knees couldn’t support her anymore, so she collapsed on the bed. He lay next to her and pulled her closer so her ass was pressed against him, and he kissed her shoulder. “Amazing,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion.
Clasping her hands over his, she wiggled her butt against him. His heavy breathing told her he’d fallen asleep, so she slipped out of his grasp and went to the bathroom. When she came back, she switched off the lamp. The dim light from the moon fell across him, and she decided that she loved him in moonlight. She was so enamored of him. Racking her brain, she couldn’t remember ever having felt so excited or connected to a man. Muerto blows Brent out of the water by a long shot. And to think she’d thought Brent was the only man for her—her soul mate.
Since meeting Muerto, her senses had been in overdrive. He seemed to understand her art, passions, and longings—in short, her. At that point, as she tiptoed over and snuggled back in bed with him, she didn’t care if she ended up brokenhearted. She wouldn’t trade him for the world.
He was real, dangerous, exciting, and sensitive, and he was hers. At least for the moment. And she fully intended to make the most of it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A few days after she beat Army and Cue Ball at pool—something she secretly gloated about many times—Raven fed Sooty, checked all the windows and doors, and took off to do her weekly antique store and garage sale runs. Sometimes she’d find treasures amongst all the junk while other times her ventures were a bust.
Her five-hour outing proved to be a mixture of some great finds and some real duds. Driving home, she was already visualizing the jewelry designs, excitement building inside her. She pulled into the garage and, with packages in hand, opened the back door and stepped into her kitchen.
She froze. Someone’s been in here.
Fear settled uncomfortably in her chest. A strangeness permeated the air, and she knew an intruder had been there. Or is still here. The hair on the nape of her neck rose as a cold shiver tangled around her nerves. Sooty meowed and rubbed against her legs. Placing her bags on the floor, she picked the cat up and nuzzled her face against Sooty’s as she purred.
; “You wouldn’t be purring if someone was in here, would you, girl?” She walked slowly out of the kitchen and down her short hallway. As she made her way to the bedroom, she flung open closet doors and checked her studio. Nothing amiss. No one around. “Maybe I’ve been watching too many true crime documentaries on television,” she whispered aloud.
As she entered her bedroom, she heard a click behind her in the living room. She stopped. Her muscles tensed. She held her breath. What is that? She strained to hear. Nothing. Rooted to the floor, silence engulfed her. Slowly, she let out her breath, her muscles relaxing a bit. Then another click. Her ears pounded. It sounds like someone’s turning the doorknob on the front door. Did I lock it? I can’t fucking remember. She ran her fingers over her clammy skin. Willing herself to move, she turned around and crept into the living room, the front door looming before her.
Nothing.
Inhaling deeply, she tiptoed to the window and peeked out the blinds. There were two brown boxes on the front porch. Looking at the street, she saw the delivery truck. Feeling giddy, she grabbed the window sill to steady herself. Sooty meowed and she looked down. “See what a crazy woman I am? I’m imagining all kinds of crap.” After several deep gulps of air, she opened the front door and picked up the boxes. They were the art supplies she’d ordered a couple weeks before.
After placing the boxes on the coffee table, she went to her bedroom. When she walked into the room, she gasped. On top of the small desk laid a wilted red rose in a puddle of liquid. What the hell? Taking small, tentative steps, she inched closer to the desk. Dabbing her finger into the liquid, she clutched her throat, gasping for air.
“Shit!” she cried out, her head spinning. The dying rose was drowning in a pool of blood that glistened in the sunlight. Whirling around, she stumbled on her feet and tripped, Sooty screeching as they both hit the wood floor. Sensing Raven’s fear, the cat scampered away.
“Sooty! Come here. Sooty.” Her voice echoed in the small house, but Sooty stayed obstinately hidden.
Raven rushed out on the front porch and called Muerto. Please pick up. Please… plea—
“Hey, babe. Good to hear from you.” His deep voice comforted her immediately.
“Someone broke into my house,” she blurted.
“What the fuck? Are you in the house?”
“On the front porch. Whoever it was left a wilted rose in a puddle of… blood.” She grimaced when she said the word.
“Get off the porch. Stand on the sidewalk. I’m on my way.”
She opened the screen door and called in a soft, soothing voice, “Sooty. Come on over here, pretty girl.” A ball of fur padded over to her and she scooped up her pet, then went over to stand on the sidewalk in front of the house.
Who would do something like that? And why me? People are so fuckin’ weird. Annnd speaking of weird…. She gazed at the picture window in the back house and saw Walter staring at her. He didn’t wave, smile, smirk, or acknowledge her in any way other than his piercing stare that drilled right into her.
And then she heard the rumble of Muerto’s bike. Now I’m safe. I can breathe. Shifting her gaze from Walter to the corner, warmth radiated throughout her body when she saw him. Waving, she rushed over to the curb when he pulled up. He came over to her and crushed her in his arms. Sooty hissed loudly, so Muerto stepped back and laughed.
“You stay out here. I’ll make sure the place is clear,” he said.
“I already looked everywhere but the bedroom closet and bath. I think if someone was in there, they’d be long gone by now.”
“Just stay out here until I clear the place. Don’t argue.” He went into the house.
After what seemed like forever, he finally returned and gestured her to come in. Inside, she asked, “Did you see it? The rose?”
“Yeah. Is anyone mad at you?”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t think so. No, wait…. Brent’s pissed at me. I mean, he acted madder than hell when I told him I wasn’t interested in him anymore.” She shook her head. “There’s no way it was Brent though. I know him. He wouldn’t even think of doing something like this.”
“You never know what people are capable of. Everyone has a dark side that no one knows about.”
“It didn’t look like whoever did it broke in.”
“Locks are still good. No broken windows. Did you leave a window open?”
She shook her head. “No, I always close and lock all the windows and doors when I leave. It’s a ritual for me, has been for years. I know I didn’t leave any open.”
Muerto tried the windows in the living room, kitchen, studio, and bathroom while Raven tagged along. When they got to her bedroom, he went over to the large window and pulled on it. It flew open. “Seems like you forgot to lock this one. That’s probably how the guy got in.”
Shaking her head, she muttered, “No. There’s no way that window was open. I distinctly remember double-checking to make sure all windows were locked and secured. I absolutely did not leave that window unlocked. Who else has a key to my place besides you?”
His smile told her he was placating her. “Only the management company. They have a key to all my places. They have to in case of an emergency and I’m not around.”
With her arms crossed, she looked pointedly at him. “I’m telling you that I did not leave a window unlocked. Someone came in here with a key.”
Muerto came over and hugged her. “Okay.”
Shrugging him off, she shook her head, her face muscles tense. “Don’t patronize me. I know what I did. Can someone get in here without a key?”
“I’m not patronizing you. I’m only saying that sometimes we make mistakes. And yeah, someone can get in here without a key, but the lock isn’t pried open and you said the deadbolt was set. A bump key can open most locks, but I doubt someone would use it to come in and leave you a rose. Has anything been stolen?”
“No. Have any of your other tenants had a similar problem?”
“Nope.”
“Do you think Walter would do something like this?”
“Walter? I don’t think so. Anyway, I talked to him after you told me that he was bothering you. He didn’t realize he was giving you the creeps. Has he kept away from you lately?”
“So that’s why I’ve been able to garden in peace. I just thought he’d gotten a job or something. It’s been nice. But he was staring at me while I was waiting for you. He had a real odd look on his face. I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.” She shivered.
“He obviously finds you attractive. I’m sure you’ve had your share of creepy guys staring at you. To be honest, he looks like he’s out of shape. If he came in through that window, you’d see it. I bet it was the same teenagers who left the roses on your mat a few weeks ago. They’re just trying to mess with you. I’ll see what punks are living around here and have a talk with them.”
“We never established that the first incident with the roses was the work of the teenagers. You’re just assuming it is,” she said softly.
“You gotta admit it’s a pretty lame thing to do. This shit has ‘punks’ written all over it. You want me to put in an alarm?”
Rubbing the back of her neck, she sighed. “No. I’m mostly here, and now that you’re spending the night with me, I feel safe.”
A few hours later, as they sat on the small patio in the backyard watching the sun set, she took a gulp of red wine while Muerto finished the last morsel of the steak he’d grilled. As he talked about motorcycles, her mind drifted back to the wilted rose in the puddle of blood. I know I locked the bedroom window. A dark sense of foreboding grabbed hold of her and choked her until she dropped the wineglass on the cement, the shattering glass mimicking her nerves.
“I’m sorry. Let me get the broom.” She leapt up and retrieved a dustpan and broom from the closet off the kitchen. While she swept, Muerto received a call from one of his brothers. He excused himself and went inside. As she threw the last glass shards into the trash, goose bumps pr
icked her skin despite the warmth of the evening air. What did the rose in blood mean? Is it a warning? For the past couple of weeks, a suspicion had niggled at the back of Raven’s mind that someone had been watching her. She hadn’t seen anyone, but she felt it like a frosty breath on the back of her neck.
“Did you get all the glass?” Muerto asked as he came out with another glass of red wine in his hand.
“Pretty much. Everything okay at the clubhouse?”
He laughed. “Yeah. Brutus wanted to know if you were up to playing a game of pool with him. I told him that shit was a one-nighter only.” He shook his head, laughter in his chest.
“I think it’s best if I retire my cue stick.” She forced a smile.
“Come here, babe.” He stretched out his arm and she took his hand as he got up from the chair. He yanked her to him, settling her down on his lap and pressing her head on his shoulder. Stroking her hair, he said in a low voice, “Don’t let what happened today get you down. I’m with you, and I’m sure as fuck not going to let anything happen to you. You’re special to me.” He kissed the top of her head.
They held each other until the mosquitoes started feasting too much on her exposed arms. Laughing, she jumped up and pretended to help him to his feet. Carrying the dishes inside, she felt closer to Muerto than she had to any man.
After loading the dishwasher, they settled on the couch and watched a thriller. It wasn’t exactly the best choice, but her man was with her, so she felt invincible for the moment. She was exhausted, so after she checked all the doors—Muerto followed behind her double-checking—they went into the bedroom. Soon they were tangled in the sheets, Raven grinding her rounded ass against his chest and his belly. Then she mounted him and rocked back and forth until they both fell back, exhausted and sated.
A sound woke her up. She looked over at Muerto, but he slept peacefully. If it was something to worry about, surely his instincts would wake him up. After all, he’s tuned in for danger.
