Ride Me

***

"I win!"

"F*ck, Tsai your luck is too damn good tonight you son of a b*tch!"

"Hurry up and pay up! Hahaha, I'll be able to go find some girls tomorrow!"

"Here you go..."

The sound of mahjong tiles clashing rang out loudly. A resident somewhere in the building shouted angrily, "Shut up you idiots! Do you want to let anyone sleep or not?"

But the sound of mahjong continued like waves crashing on rocks in the dark night.

Room 307 was silent and completely out of place in this environment.

Tears fell from Yamilet's eyes and created a wet spot on the white bedsheet.

It was because she had gone so long without blinking that her eyes were producing tears.

Bryce's knife was only two or three millimeters away from her left eye pupil as if it were a scythe poised by Death to strike at any moment.

She loved to challenge him like this: Bryce wouldn't move his knife, so she refused to blink.

A bitter sea surged within her eye sockets, rising and falling with each passing moment.

Bryce released her neck and used his fingertips to wipe away any excess tears that weren't needed between them. His voice held an air of pity as he spoke, "Oh. So even a little crazy girl knows how to cry..."

He first moved the knife away before using his thumb and forefinger to gently press down on Yamilet's eyelids.

Just like how sometimes after killing someone he would have a sudden bout of kindness and close their eyelids for them.

Although there were too many colors he didn't like smeared across the lids, they still felt nice under his fingers.

As thin as flower petals from a golden-veined iris.

The remaining dewdrops inside Yamilet's eye sockets were squeezed out bit by bit, softening the petals even more.

The sharp blade cut across Yamilet's collarbone. The knife slid in between the fabric of her dress and the strap, picking up speed and slicing through it effortlessly.

Bryce then pinched at the material of the dress, looking down on it with distaste. "What kind of crappy material is this? Do you have to be so in character? Can't you buy a nicer dress that won't fall apart like this?"

Yamilet blinked her wet eyes and suddenly became quite obedient, "Even if I bought a better one, wouldn't you just cut it up anyway?"

Bryce gave her a sideways glance and pinched the fabric around her collar. The tip of his knife easily sliced through it.

At the same time, he leisurely recapped what had just happened. "Your alertness seems to have decreased lately, huh? You didn't even notice someone was in your apartment until you got near the door. What if it wasn't me who came in? What would you do then?"

The torn cloth slipped off from her towering breasts. The edges curled up like blood-red datura petals.

The petals spiraled open, revealing white pearls hidden inside their buds.

Huh, the little crazy girl wasn't wearing a bra but instead had two nipple covers on instead.

Yamilet arched her back fearlessly under the dancing blade and brought her ample bosom closer to Bryce's face. "Then I'll fight again."

Bryce's eyes darkened as he picked at the edge of the nipple cover and tore it open. The areola, stimulated, began to harden pitifully, and the nipple trembled.

"What if someone comes with a gun? Or lays traps for you?" he asked.

Thick cream was topped with blood-red cherries. Cherries were now pressed by the temperature-less blade, pushing the nipple into the cream.

When the knife was lifted again, the cherry slowly floated up from the milk-white flesh.

Yamilet's nipples were sensitive and were stimulated by the icy steel, causing her to moan softly and close her eyes halfway. "I'm not a weak noob... If I can't beat, then I know how to run," she said.

She lifted her slightly numb right hand and lightly touched Bryce's Adam's apple with her index finger. "If someone kills me, Bry, you have to seek revenge for me," she said.

"Hmm... Seek revenge for you? Who are you to me?" Bryce didn't mind Yamilet playing with his vital part now. He cut off her skirt into useless scraps before snapping off a strap of her underwear that was next to her waistline. Then he flipped his wrist and put away his folding knife.

He smirked: "You better pray to all gods that no one comes looking for me to kill you."

Yamilet stretched out her arms to embrace Bryce's neck, pulling him down onto herself casually. "If that day ever comes, before you work, you'll have to have sex with me first so that I can die satisfied... mmm..."

Bryce couldn't stand listening to her babbling and stopped her with a kiss.

He didn't care that he was getting makeup-laced lipstick all over his mouth from doing so.

His kiss was direct and fierce, his tongue teasing and stirring up the warm cavity inside of her mouth, creating swirling eddies in the honey pool.

Yamilet received his roughness and wrapped her legs around his waist like a soft serpent. Her heels grazed against the hem of his clothes as she rubbed them against his taut back muscles.

"Why are you so fierce... Weren't those supermodels in Europe enough for you?" Yamilet asked while Bryce kissed along her collarbone, massaging the curls at the ends of his brown hair between her fingers.

Despite how refined Bryce may seem on the outside, calluses on his hands were still quite visible. Rough skin propped up beneath Yamilet's breast. He bit onto one nipple with canine teeth and mumbled vaguely, "Those supermodels are all scrawny with nothing but bones on their bodies. How can they compare to your delicious little breasts?"

Yamilet pouted playfully with a smile curving at the corners of her lips.

The moon kissed Yamilet's graceful curves just as passionately as Bryce did.

His wet tongue chased after the footsteps of moonlight as it trailed across each shallow scar on Yamilet's body.

Whether old or new wounds, who among assassins could avoid collecting bullet scars? Other female killers would undergo laser scar removal or tattooing to hide them for aesthetic purposes.

But for Yamilet, these scars were worn like badges of honor.

Bryce had already been waiting for a full hour, and now he just wanted Yamilet to ride him properly.

He stood up straight, licking his fingers wet before slipping them into the flower bud between her legs. He quickly discovered that there was no need to lick his fingers because her small hole was already dripping with moisture. It was like a fish mouth gasping for air, with sweet and sticky bubbles popping in and out.

"Good girl, you've been wet since I walked in the door, haven't you?"

Bryce teased as he inserted two fingers into her tight flesh tunnel. He twisted them around slightly and rubbed against the moving walls of flesh. Yamilet let out a soft moan from deep within her throat. "Mmm... yes..."

Those who play with knives and guns are skilled at using their fingers dexterously even in tiny holes.

Bryce manipulated a cherry hidden within the flower petals, rolling it back and forth until it burst open, producing more juicy liquids that flowed freely from it. The fruit also became harder over time as it matured, ripe enough to be harvested at any moment.

Yamilet's cheeks were flushed red as she arched her legs into crescent moons. A wave-like pleasure accumulated to its peak and slammed hard into her consciousness. Her body convulsed uncontrollably as an endless flow of sweet nectar dripped from between her raised buttocks onto the sheets below, like a flowing silver river.

As she reached climax, she almost screamed out loud but Bryce kissed her again instead, wrapping his tongue around hers and swallowing all of her moans whole before chewing them up again and feeding them back to her once more.

Yamilet lay on the bed and gasped for breath as Bryce got up and took off his clothes. His virile member between his legs was as impressive as his title suggested, with a strong invasiveness that resembled the fiery spear held by Ares in hand, its tip still burning with flames lit from the altar.

He opened a condom and put it on. Bryce always used protection when he had sex with anyone, trying to avoid unnecessary complications.

The duffy bear plushies on the bed were pushed down by Bryce, who sat against the headboard while holding Yamilet in his arms. He pulled her slender wrists up to his lips, kissing them gently where they had almost been dislocated from being squeezed too tightly earlier. The area was now slightly red and swollen.

Bryce kissed her wrist again and caught a whiff of gunpowder smell before hoarsely asking, "Did you just shoot someone?"

"Mmm..." Yamilet hung her arm over his shoulder and turned her head to bite lightly at a scar near Bryce's ear. The new flesh around it was still tender.

Bryce patted her butt, gesturing for her to sit down on him. "Here, ride me. Ride me well."