In a disconcertingly brief amount of time, my wrists were lashed to the bed, and Arvo was standing above my head.
Again, I should have been scared, but I felt nothing besides fevered anticipation. My hips were gyrating already, yearning for his steel.
“Get me wet,” he demanded, leaning forward to place his throbbing member against my mouth. I lapped my tongue around his salty cock, getting it nice and slick.
As I licked Arvo, he returned the favor. He stretched his long arms forward and leaned over me. I felt his rock-solid chest press firmly against my tummy as his mouth reached my womanhood. In an instant, he drew my clit into his mouth. He sucked gently on it and twirled the tip of his tongue around.
“Oh, my god,” I cried. “You’re making me—oh, shit—”
I was losing words as lightning bolts shot through me. Each circle of his tongue brought me closer, but I didn’t want to come yet. I’d waited for this. I was risking everything to do it. I needed to feel him inside.
“Not yet,” I managed to moan. “Not . . . with your mouth.”
He lifted his head and sat up.
“You ready to be taken by the King of Cups?”
“Fuck me, your majesty.”
I didn’t have to tell him twice. Lithe as a fox, he moved to the other end of the bed and took hold of me by my open legs. The warm head of his cock rested against my glistening vulva. We stared into each other’s eyes a moment, savoring the sensation, delaying the dam's bursting ever so briefly.
He reclined his body to kiss me one more time. My nostrils filled with that silly rum-and-coconut hair product he used. At that moment, that faux-tropical scent was one more thing I found absolutely irresistible about him.
He didn’t say anything, just locked eyes with me and pressed himself into me.
I cried out in immediate ecstasy. Arvo wasn’t even halfway deep, and I was on cloud nine. We rocked against each other, slowly at first, then picking up speed.
He fucked with the intensity of a stallion but never broke focus. His sole objective seemed to be getting me off. My wrists pulled about the straps, and my hips bucked upward with each thrust. I craned my neck forward and licked the sweat from his chest. It was tangy and sweet. I wanted to taste every inch of him.
Arvo dropped his head down and took my bouncing tit in his mouth, nibbling on it with a perfectly calibrated pressure. It was all so efficient.
That wasn’t to say I wasn’t enjoying it. On the contrary, I was willing myself not to come too quickly. His huge cock seemed to hit almost every nerve inside of me simultaneously. And every button it didn’t hit, he made up for with his mouth.
With every thrust, he went deeper, and I got closer, and he somehow got harder and fuller within me.
Until I couldn’t hold back any longer. The dam burst. I shouted with such pleasure that the echo continued after my rolling, quaking orgasm subsided. I was deaf to the world around me, but he hadn’t stopped fucking me. I was beginning to descend to earth when I heard him whisper that he was going to come.
“Give me your come, baby,” I demanded. “I want it.”
Arvo withdrew from my pussy just as he erupted. Streams of semen coated my flush, twitching torso. A few errant drops found my neck and cheek as well. I couldn’t help myself. I stretched my tongue out and licked it from my face. It was salt and honey and mineral all at once, and I loved the depravity of it all.
“Damn, Biba,” he groaned. “We need to do this again.”
I looked at him, panting and clutching his waning monster, and nodded in agreement.
CHAPTER 21
BIBA
That Friday night, I decided it was time. All summer long, I’d wanted Amelia to come clean about my dad and Douglas Monfort and the Kings of yesteryear. I’d waited for her to broach the subject independently, but she never did.
Now I knew: Peter Williams and Dimitri Stamos, the missing girl, the redacted statement, and the expelled Kings. She needed to talk immediately. Once I’d filled in the gaps, I could find Soglio in the village and tell him what I knew. Maybe then I could uncover the people who killed Gail.
I approached Amelia’s door at nine. The halls had cleared out, but I was confident she would be around. She never left Stormcloud. It was her life.
Her door was ajar. I tapped gently, but she didn’t respond. I rapped a little louder. Nothing.
“Miss Amelia,” I called. No answer. Slowly, I opened the door and found her office empty. Her desk was strewn with old papers.