The kitchen was a haven of warmth and scent, the air thick with the aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee. I stood at the counter, flipping pancakes on a griddle, the golden batter bubbling under the heat. The morning light streamed through the mansion's massive windows, glinting off the polished marble and stainless steel, a stark contrast to the dark chaos of the basement below. My body still thrummed with the memory of Lila—her bound wrists, her moans, her curves yielding under my touch. The thought alone sent a pulse of heat to my groin, but I focused on the task, slicing strawberries with precise flicks of the knife. Cooking was my ritual, a way to ground myself, but nothing could quiet the hunger she'd awakened in me.
A faint shift in the air made me pause, my lips curling into a smile. Without turning, I called out, loud enough for the words to carry, "Back from the washroom already, darling?"
A sharp intake of breath came from behind me. Lila's voice, laced with shock, broke the silence. "How did you know? I know I didn't make any sounds."
I chuckled, flipping a pancake with a deft twist of my wrist. "Yes, you didn't."
"Then how?" she demanded, her tone wavering between suspicion and unease.
I finished plating the breakfast—fluffy pancakes stacked high, drizzled with maple syrup, bacon crisp on the side, and a scattering of strawberries for color. Only then did I turn, meeting her wide, startled eyes. She stood in the doorway, her dark hair tousled, her body still bare except for a silk robe she must've grabbed from her room. It hung loosely, barely concealing the swell of her breasts or the curve of her hips. My gaze lingered, my cock stirring at the sight. "Your smell, honey," I said.
Lila's brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her face. Her right hand was behind her back, but I caught the glint of steel—a kitchen knife, clutched tightly, its blade catching the light. My smile widened, a dark thrill coursing through me. She'd thought to catch me off guard, to reclaim her power. But she didn't know how deeply she'd already ensnared me.
I set the plates down and stepped closer, slow and deliberate, my eyes locked on hers. Her breath hitched as I stopped inches away, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her. I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear as I whispered, "Stab me, darling."
Her hand trembled, the knife now visible as she brought it forward, the blade shaking in her grip. Her eyes were wide, conflicted. I tilted my head, exposing my throat, my voice a low growl. "You've killed so many men, Lila. What's stopping you now? I'm right here. Kill me."
"I just…" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper, the knife wavering. "I just…"
I didn't let her finish. My hand shot out, wrapping around her neck—not tight, just enough to feel her pulse race under my fingers. I pulled her into me, my mouth crashing onto hers in a long, wet kiss. My tongue invaded, claiming her, tasting the faint sweetness of her morning breath mixed with the lingering salt of her skin. She resisted for a moment, her body tense, but then the knife clattered to the floor, the sound sharp against the marble. Her hands pressed against my chest, not pushing away but clinging, her fingers curling into my shirt as she melted into the kiss.
I deepened it, my tongue dancing with hers, my teeth grazing her lower lip. One hand stayed on her neck, controlling, while the other slid down to grip her hip, pulling her flush against me. My erection pressed against her thigh, hard and insistent, and she gasped into my mouth. I kissed her until we were both breathless, until her knees buckled and I had to hold her up. When I finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her eyes glassy with a mix of desire and defeat. I rested my forehead against hers, my hand still on her neck as I fought the urge to tear the robe off and take her right there.
"You know, darling," I whispered, my lips brushing her jaw, "every part of you constantly seduces me." My hand slid under her robe, finding the curve of her breast, squeezing until she moaned softly. "Your scent, your skin, the way you tremble… I can't get enough. You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you now," I said, my voice rough with restraint. "But I don't want to drain your energy on an empty stomach. Let's have breakfast first."
Lila nodded, her eyes wide, her lips swollen from the kiss. I guided her to the dining table, setting the plates down. As we ate, I couldn't take my eyes off her. The way she brought the fork to her mouth, her lips closing around a strawberry, the slight flush on her cheeks—it was mesmerizing. Her beauty was a weapon, one she wielded without even trying. I watched in awe, my fork paused halfway to my mouth, every bite she took stoking the fire in my gut.
When we finished, I leaned back, wiping my hands. "Honey, wanna watch a movie?"
Lila set her fork down, her expression hardening. "Elias, why don't you just leave now? I tried to kill you, you had your fun. Now leave. I won't talk to the police. I won't come for your life. And I won't ever kill anyone again. Happy now? Now leave, Elias."
I stared at her, my smile fading for a moment. Then I leaned across the table, my voice steady. "I won't leave you, honey."
Her eyes narrowed. "Is it about money? Tell me how much you want."
I stood, moving around the table to her side, leaning down until my lips brushed her ear. "It's about you, darling. I want you. All this time, I was an empty shell. Now I feel this wonderful craving, desire, feelings. Only for you. And I can't let that go." My hand slid to her face, cupping her jaw as I held her gaze. "I really can't control myself after you said my name, honey."
Before she could respond, I kissed her neck, my lips pressing hard against her pulse, sucking until a faint mark bloomed. She gasped, her hands gripping the table. I yanked the tie of her robe, letting it fall open to reveal her naked body—full breasts, curvy hips, the perfection that drove me wild. My mouth descended on her breast, sucking her nipple hard, my tongue swirling as I squeezed the other, my fingers sinking into the soft flesh. She moaned, a low, throaty sound that sent a jolt straight to my cock.
I moved lower, dropping to my knees, my hands spreading her thighs. Her pussy was already wet, glistening, and I dove in like a man starved for months. My tongue lapped at her clit, circling with relentless intensity, sucking until her hips bucked against my face. Her moans were desperate, rising in pitch—sharp gasps, then deep, shuddering cries as I plunged my tongue inside her, tasting her sweetness. "Elias… fuck," she whimpered, her body twisting, her hands gripping my hair as she came, her juices coating my lips.
I stood, shedding my clothes in seconds, my cock hard and throbbing. I pulled her to her feet, spinning her to bend her over the table, her wrists still free but her body yielding to my command. I thrust into her, deep and brutal, my cock filling her tight heat. Her breasts bounced against the table, her moans a constant stream of "Elias… oh God…" as I pounded into her, each thrust shaking her body. My hands gripped her hips, squeezing hard, leaving marks I'd trace later.
I flipped her onto her back, spreading her legs wide, her breasts jiggling with every deep thrust. I leaned down, sucking her nipple, biting until she screamed, her walls clenching around me as she came again. I shifted her to her side, one leg over my shoulder, hitting a new angle that made her eyes roll back, her moans turning to sobs of pleasure. Then doggy again, my hand cracking against her ass, the sting making her tighten around me as she came a third time.
After the fourth style—her on top, riding me as I gripped her bouncing breasts, her moans a symphony of ecstasy—she begged, "Elias, slow down… please, I can't…" Her voice was weak, her body trembling from the onslaught.
But her pleas only fueled me. I increased the brutality, flipping her onto her stomach, tying her wrists behind her with a nearby dish towel for added restraint. I fucked her harder, my thrusts relentless, her ass jiggling with each slam. Her fifth orgasm hit, her scream muffled against the table. I untied her, pulling her to the floor, spreading her thighs as I took her in missionary, my hands squeezing her breasts, my mouth claiming hers. The sixth style had her on her knees, my fingers in her hair as I fucked her from behind, her moans incoherent. Seven, eight, nine—I lost count, each position more savage, her body shaking, her cries fading to whimpers as she became barely movable, her eyes glassy with exhaustion.
Finally, I spilled inside her, my release a roar that echoed in the quiet mansion. I collapsed onto her, our sweat-slicked bodies pressed together, her breasts soft against my chest, her heartbeat racing under my touch. I lay there, feeling every part of her—her curves, her warmth, the way she trembled beneath me.
An hour later, I stirred, helping her sit up. I gently pulled the robe back over her shoulders, dressing her with a tenderness that contrasted the brutality. "Let's watch that movie," I said, guiding her to the living room. The massive screen flickered to life, some mindless rom-com playing, but I barely noticed, my eyes on her as she curled up beside me, still dazed.
When the credits rolled, Lila shifted, her voice soft. "I have to take a bath now."
I stood, smiling. "Sure. Let's go." Before she could protest, I swept her up in a princess carry, her body light in my arms. She gasped, her hands gripping my shoulders.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and wariness.
I grinned, my eyes locked on hers. "I'm coming with you, darling."