The Butcher of the Bay Part II - J. Bree Page 0,68

of water and then mine, a frown still on his face. "What do you know of fanatics? What did you see in there that I didn't?"

I point out the paragraph and his face sours. "We don't need that shit around here. We already have a gang war and a biker stand-off starting. Add Jesus freaks to that list and we're all going down."

I close the file and lean back in my seat, tipping my head back until he kisses me, slow and deep with a fist in my hair and a hand curled around my throat. This lust-fueled roughness in him is my new favorite thing in our relationship. He's found the way to treat me with utter reverence but also to use my body as if he owns it completely.

He does own me.

“Stop thinking about that shit, baby girl. I’m about to head out for the night but I could be persuaded to stick around for another hour.” His voice is pitched in a low drawl, his breath against my neck making a shiver run down my spine.

However he wants me, he can have me.

I move to stand up, murmuring to him about a shower because I’m still a little sweaty from the workout but when I try to move away from him he growls at me, a rumbling noise straight from his chest like I’m displeasing him.

I don’t like that at all.

I’m here for his pleasure, to serve this man however he may need because his pleasure always brings me joy and ecstasy.

He turns me around to face him and then takes a step back, his eyes hot as he looks over me approvingly, as if I'm standing here in lace and pearls and not the sweaty workout clothes.

“Strip. Gimme that ass bare and fucking perfect for me to sink my teeth into.”

My hands are steady as I slowly slip the sweatpants from my body and then the tank top lands on the ground. Mon Monstre’s eyes follow my every move but the only thing he does while he watches me is breathe.

It’s as if he’s under some spell I’m casting, as if my body and my soul have lulled him into some trance and now he’s mine to possess.

For the first time, I thank god for these looks of mine.

I turn away from him bending over to undo the laces of my shoes to get them off and his restraint snaps. His hands grab my hips roughly and he pulls me back to grind his dick against my ass, hard enough that the air is knocked out of me.

I love it.

“Leave the shoes on, baby girl. I’m going to fuck you like this and you need the height.”

My pussy clenches at the rough tone of his voice. He sounds parched, like he wants to drink me up to quench his thirst but I also know he’ll never get his fill. He’s made that clear to me now and I'm so utterly thankful.

As he grinds his hips into me I push back, desperate for him to slide my panties aside and bury his cock into me.

He doesn’t.

Instead he drops to his knees and says, “Give your man a taste of what you’ve got, baby girl. I want your come running down my chin before I split you open.”

Then he buries his face between my thighs.

I want to shy away from him, conscious of the hour on the treadmill and mats we've just done but he leans back far enough to slap my ass, the sting making me gasp and moan, the sound drawing out of my chest in a long keening sound as he gets his lips and tongue back on me, teasing and sucking at my pussy.

In this position, I can't grind back on his face or rock my hips how I want to, the frustration building in me until I'm a whimpering mess, shaking and begging him to fuck me properly, to give me what I so desperately need.

I'm nearly sobbing when he finally lets go of my hips and stands up.

"You want more, baby girl? Tell me. Beg me for what you need."

He steps away from me and I turn to fall back to my knees at his feet. "Please, mon Monstre. Please fuck me. Please fill me up until the ache in my pussy stops hurting. Please come all over me."

His eyelids drop and the look he gives me from under them has my pussy dripping onto the floor, my panties still pushed to