Servant of the Undead

"Well done, researcher."

Without worrying about whether or not he hurt her, he impaled her with a single sharp drive. She was tight, but her body accepted his full, hard length. He backed out and plunged in again. She bucked, encouraging him to pound into her and he did. Flickers of the constant sexual fire that she'd lit in him flamed and tore through his limbs in a fierce and angry blaze. He pumped his dick into her pussy with quick, remorseless thrusts, grabbing her hips, digging his fingers into her cool flesh. His cock got bigger, his sac tight, and she grunted as he ground into her.

Tremors rolled over her body, and he felt the walls of her vagina squeeze, starting to pull the cum from his dick. The last few thrusts were vicious and fierce, almost to the point of pain, but he couldn't control himself, didn't really want to, and he fell into the dark bliss of the mind-numbing physical release. The pleasure died as quickly as it begun.

He withdrew, pulled down her skirt then adjusted his own clothes.

Mattie looked him up and down as she adjusted the bindings covering her breasts. "Well done, researcher."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" he asked, getting past her.

She picked up her jacket and followed him into the living room. "That's what you do, isn't it? Research."

"I write for a tabloid newspaper. That's not research."

She kicked the back of his calf, and he stumbled until he grabbed the edge of the couch.

"You're so smart, Hayden," she said after a husky laugh. "I can't believe you haven't figured it out."

He looked over his shoulder at her.

"What I want from you," she said.

He pointed to his dick then moved as far from her as possible, stopping beside the picture window that looked out onto the street.

She zipped up her coat and folded her arms across her chest, a sold wall of stealth and wickedness. "A man like you, with so much to offer a woman and you think fucking is all I want?"

He looked out at the night. Rows of white lights blinked back at him. Snow lay heaped in corners, heavy and dense, turning into shadows as the sun set on the slow-moving city. "I don't care what you want," he said, watching yet another plow shove its way down the street.

"You ought to."

Rachelle swung into the room, the giant fur wrapped around her body, Bean boots swinging beneath the hem. "You guys aren't ready?" She glanced between them.

Mattie swept over and shoved Hayden toward the hall. "Get ready, Hayden." She wrapped her arm around Rachelle's shoulders, kissed her on top of the head, then took her hand to lead her to the kitchen. "I'll make us some tea and make sure everything is taken care of out here."

The sight of the two of them, hand in hand, narrowed Hayden's focus to only two things. Getting what he wanted—something fresh to give Bob so he could get that something in return—and what he needed—a way to erase Mattie from of his and Rachelle's life.