He started to fuck his finger inside the snug confines of her ass, letting go of her wrists with his other hand. He stroked that hand down her butt and she screamed as he spanked her again, that light slap on the flushed, tender flesh of her ass closing a fist of agonized pleasure around her that wouldn’t let go.
Kellan slammed into her, harder, harder. His hand went back to grip her hip, holding her steady for the double penetration of his cock in her pussy, and his finger in her ass. His strokes picked up and she pushed back, sucking air into her lungs past the tight fist of lust.
She exploded around him, her pussy clutching around his cock as she screamed out his name. Black dots exploded behind her eyes and she felt the hot splash of his seed deep inside her pussy.
His hands clutched at her hips as he pulled out and burrowed back inside with one final thrust.
With her arms sprawled limply beside her head, Darci groaned. “I think I’m dead,” she whispered hoarsely.
He bent over her and she felt his head come down and rest between her shoulder blades. “Ummm…no. Not dead. Most definitely alive,” he said. Little tremors rippled through her pussy as his cock jerked. “And when I can breathe again, I plan on enjoying…this…again.”
This was accompanied by his hand reaching around and cupping her pussy as he eased back and urged her to the ground, cuddling her up against him. His body was hot, damp, his heart slamming against her back where he held her tight against him.
Anger boiled in her belly as she lingered outside the window.
Bitch.
Whore.
Damn it, how could she be in there getting laid when Bryce was dead? His own fucking fault, calling her Darci again, but damn it, didn’t the bitch have any compassion?
She should be sobbing, crying, sad at least that Bryce was gone. The whole world should be mourning him.
But she wasn’t mourning. She was getting fucked within an inch of her life.
Darci’s screams were audible even through the windows. With her hand pressed against the glass, she listened, rage and a twisted form of greedy desire lurking in her belly as she watched.
He’d turned the light on. She watched as the sheriff rose up on his knees, looming over her as he cupped her slender hips in his hands.
She couldn’t see well enough. She wanted to see his cock, wanted to watch as he pushed inside Darci’s pussy.
With a whispered curse, she turned away, sliding through the bushes and the trees until she got down closer to the river. Then she headed west to Cole’s Landing where she’d parked her car.
Her feet moved silently over the ground, barely stirring the branches and the leaves as she passed.
Not right. The bitch shouldn’t be enjoying life so much when Bryce was dead, his body forever cold. She wanted to hurt Darci. So much she could taste it.
But damn it, this wasn’t about Darci.
Shame and grief rose in her belly as she remembered Bryce’s hands on her, his gruff voice in her ear as he barked out orders and insults, the feel of his hands on her flesh as he fucked her, as he punished her. Nobody had ever made her feel the way he had-hot, depraved, the humiliation and hunger twining inside of her until she couldn’t tell one from the other.
She’d never feel that again. But it was his fault. Damn it, his fault.
“You got distracted,” she muttered, digging her keys out of her pocket. “Distracted. And see what it did? Remember the plan. Keep the plan in mind.”
Chapter Six
A week of uneasy silence passed. Bryce’s messy apartment had shown them nothing but that he was definitely a bachelor, with empty pizza boxes cluttering the kitchen, empty beer cans and a stash of uppers. With a wry twist of his lips, Kellan studied the small assortment of pills and wondered why he hadn’t figured Bryce as a user.
Of course, he hadn’t really seen Bryce as somebody who would be involved in bondage games either. But the porn mags in his house were all of the darker variety, and the box under the bed had revealed an assortment of chains, handcuffs, and ball gags.
And videos…the videos sent a surge of excitement rushing through him. This was personal. Very personal. And there was nothing in the world as personal and intimate as sex.
Would those videos show anything?
Licking his lips, he counted them and recorded them on the inventory list. Well, he had been planning on a movie tonight, but he had hoped to get Darci to meet him in Columbus and maybe catch one together. Then maybe find some secluded area to park and fuck her brains out.
They couldn’t risk being seen together right now. Not with this investigation going on, but he wanted her so badly that he couldn’t breathe.
“Better this way,” he told himself, plowing a hand through his hair before gathering up the videos. I’ll spend the night watching a bunch of videos and then I’ll go jack off in the shower and get some rest.
And hopefully, these videos would yield a clue. Some sort of clue.
Darci moved through the gallery in a daze. Her mind didn’t want to realign with her body. All she could remember was that night. He’d left sometime before ten o’clock.
“I wish I could stay,” he had whispered, brushing her hair back.
“Me, too.”
“This damned case…damn it. When I get this thing solved…” then his voice had trailed off as he’d jerked her against him, pressing a ravenous kiss against her lips, his hand fisting in her hair. Before she could start to kiss him back though, Kellan had pulled away and left without another word.
Her lips buzzed now, just thinking about that kiss. Pressing her fingers to her lips, closing her eyes in memory, she was caught by surprise when the door opened.
Turning, she found herself staring into Tricia Casey’s bland green eyes. Arching a brow at the older woman, she said, “Well, I usually don’t get to see you in here.”
Tricia laughed, her eyes twinkling as though she knew what sort of things were running through Darci’s mind. With a shrug of her shoulders, she said, “I don’t have much time for visiting. Not with running the gallery, hunting down new artists…and it’s terrible, but we are busier now than we ever have been. Violent death has done wonders for Carrie and Beth’s sales. Peggy and I can hardly keep up.”
“People are a macabre bunch.” Folding her arms across her middle, Darci asked, “What can I do for you, Tricia?”
She smiled, causing the few lines in her face to deepen. One wasn’t likely to guess her age. For a woman of sixty-two, she looked remarkable. Reaching into her purse, she drew out a small stack of envelopes. “We keep receiving your mail,” she murmured, holding it out to Darci.
Darci arched a brow. “I’ll have to complain again. Tiresome, never knowing where your mail is going. Especially since one or two times the letters looked like somebody had tried to open them. Not the bills, of course, but the ones that come from customers.”
A cool smile curved Tricia’s lips and she shrugged. “Bryce was always terribly nosy, I’m afraid. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least to hear he was reading other people’s mail.”
Folding her hand around the envelopes, Darci took them and sauntered back behind the counter. Calmly, she said, “Well, that being the case, I assume I don’t need to worry about people looking at my mail anymore. Seeing as how he’s gone.”