Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“No, I don’t. I paid for spending the night yesterday.”
“How?”
“You…know.”
“Say the words, Aurora.”
A red hue covers her entire body and the nipples peeking from between her fingers harden as she mutters, “You fucked my mouth.”
Not really. I actually gave her free reign and she sucked me off like a good girl. Over time, she’s been getting used to my pace, making up for her lack of skills with her determination. She’s the only one who still manages to stare up at me with defiance even when I’m wrapping her hair around my fist, hitting the back of her throat with my cock, and smudging that red lipstick all over her mouth.
Considering her reservations at the beginning, it’s clear she hasn’t given much of those before – blowjobs, that is. I have the urge to murder any fucker who put their hands on her before me.
“But you didn’t pay for the kiss in my office,” I tell her, still taking my fill of her nakedness.
Truth is, I love kissing Aurora. She comes undone when my lips ravage hers. She melts against me and lets me do whatever I please.
There’s something euphoric about owning a fireball like her and making her come to me as if that’s what she’s always needed.
It’s one of those bizarre things that are only related to her. Kissing never mattered to me before to the point that I never did it.
But with her, I can’t get enough of it.
I don’t tell her that to keep her coming back to me for more.
“Later,” she mumbles. “I want to have dinner out tonight. A date.”
A date. I don’t even know how to date, but it usually includes Aurora loosening up and talking about her past. For that reason alone, I take her up on her offers whenever she asks.
“That’s two punishments.”
“I’m fine with that.”
“First one now?”
“No. I’m going to be late.”
“Here’s how it will go. I’m going to count to three and if you don’t go into the bathroom, you might have to call in sick.”
Her eyes widen and before I start counting, she jogs to the bathroom. My grin widens as I pick up my phone and leave.
My feet come to a slow halt in front of Alicia’s room and my smile vanishes.
I place a hand on the door as I often do.
Alicia is a reminder of when I also lost control. I have to make sure that doesn’t happen with Aurora.
She already shares her looks; she won’t share her fate.
33
Aurora
Damn Jonathan.
I curse him under my breath for the whole time I’m stuck in traffic.
The tyrant is bent on getting me out of sorts. He gets off on seeing me helpless, defenceless, and completely at his mercy.
Not that he has any.
He’s sadistic to a fault.
And you enjoy every second of it. Hell, you’re looking forward to tonight like you’ve never looked forward to anything before.
I shoo that intrusive voice away and release a breath when I finally arrive at my flat.
Paul called to tell me I had another package. Since I was already late, I texted Layla to carry on with the morning factory meeting without me and fill me in later.
I can’t miss any chance to know more about Alicia. I snooped through all the books in her room and even the library. She often circled and underlined words in red. Sometimes, she scribbled words like:
I wish you didn’t save me.
The worst thing you can do to a life is suffocate it.
A crime is a secret.
Bury them all.
The more I read, the deeper the hole between me and Alicia grows. I’m starting to doubt if I even knew my sister.
It’s like an entirely different being possessed her hand and scribbled those words.
Maybe it’s like with Dad. I thought I knew him, but…
I shut the door on that thought as I step into my building and smile at Paul, who’s watching TV with Shelby. My neighbour doesn’t even acknowledge me. It’s Paul who strikes up a conversation, asking how I’ve been.
He reaches behind the counter. “There was a man who came to ask about you the other day.”
My muscles tense. It must be the solicitor. “Did he mention his name?”
“No. He left when I told him you don’t live here anymore.”
Phew.
Shelby raises the volume of the TV and my relieved breath catches. A news anchor appears, his expression serious and it’s for a very good reason.
The man who’s sitting across from him in a grey room is the main character in my nightmares. The one who digs graves and suffocates people with duct tape.
Maxim Griffin.
The most notorious serial killer in the UK’s recent history.
My father.
The news anchor’s serious tone drifts from the TV. “Today, we’re having an exclusive interview with Maxim Griffin. It’s the first time in eleven years that he has willingly chosen to talk. What happens when a killer breaks his silence?”