Deryn nodded, licking her lips, and Paloma tsked.
“Should I bring out the riding crop?” When Deryn’s head lifted with enthusiasm, Paloma sighed. As punishments went, she would have to change her strategy. “How about I don’t let you lick my cunt? How about you don’t get to eat me out, Crowhart?”
“No! No, I’ll do anything, please. Please!”
Deryn’s voice was full of desperation. She was absolutely still.
“Well, then, that’s much better. Now, let’s put that mouth of yours to good use.”
Paloma lowered herself onto Deryn’s face, once again, and sighed when hungry lips went to work. She pulled tighter on the locks in her fingers, pulling a moan out of Deryn, and allowed herself to feel, to savor, to enjoy. Deryn was so fucking good at this, so damned creative.
Paloma was already close, and it hadn’t even been a minute. What a pity. What a goddamn shame. She threw her head back, feeling the telltale shake of her thighs as her orgasm approached, as Deryn licked and sucked, every action accompanied by sounds of pleasure, of ravenous hunger, of satisfaction. Deryn fucked as thoughher life depended on it, and like she was having the most amazing time. Like Paloma was the sweetest, tastiest morsel she had ever had the pleasure to have in her mouth… Goddamn her, goddamn this woman, and goddamn Paloma for her fear and her dead heart. She came in silence, not a sound,not a sigh, just the searing, glorious pain of the climax and the green eyes staring into her soul.
16
DERYN, SLEEPING KITTENS & SOULMATES
COUNCILWOMAN CROWHART’S HOUSE BROKEN INTO!
Ceridwen Crowhart’s house was broken into last night. Sheriff Redding issued a statement to the media, which has now expanded to mainland outlets, that the door showed no signs of forced entry, yet the entire house was ransacked. Nothing of value was taken, though several personal items were vandalized and broken. Councilwoman Crowhart was not at home at the time of the break-in. The Caw has sought a statement from the Crowhart family, and while Seren and Rhiannon Crowhart gave the standard “no comment” line, Victoria Crowhart indicated that members of the press should do something we cannot print. Deryn Crowhart replied with more concrete and even more profane suggestions. These involved rather inventive actions that would all lead to a quite unpleasant conclusion.
The anger of the family is, however, understandable. They have been the target of a seemingly unending slew of incidents ranging from arson to break-ins.
When will this lawlessness end? Both leading candidates for the mayoralty, John Moss and Paloma Allende, have been unavailable for comment, though Ms. Allende was seen leaving the eldest Crowhart’s residence earlier today.
Additionally, Deryn Crowhart has been seen in town with a severely bruised face. It’s unclear how she suffered the injury.
Watch this space and spare a good thought for the long-suffering Crowharts.
—Crow’s Caw
“Well,at least they didn’t suggest you got injured fucking the living daylights out of the mayoral candidate.”
Victoria set the newspaper down and smirked at Deryn, who was filling a muffin tin with cupcake liners. Deryn didn’t flinch, but it was a close call. She also didn’t reply, and after a loud exhalation, Victoria went on.
“You just had to go and give them lip, Deryn.”
Victoria reached out and scooped a tiny bit of frosting with her little tasting spoon, managing to avoid Deryn’s wooden mixing one.
“Needs more rum essence.”
“No, it doesn’t, Aunt V. And what about you? Is telling them to what, go screw themselves considered restraint?”
When Victoria stole more of the frosting, Deryn cursed her decision to prepare it before she mixed the ingredients for the sponge.
Victoria got up and washed the spoon she used to pilfer Deryn’s handiwork, then sat down again.
“No, no, I told them plainly to fuck themselves. I don’t mince words, child.”
“That’s strong language, Aunty V.” Deryn couldn’t help but smile.
Victoria made a face.
“Someone is coming after me and mine. I can give them more than strong language. But the press? My love language is words of defamation where they are concerned.” She smacked her lips together. “Hmm, I still say it needs more rum essence. Why are you even making these?”
“What? You have something against eggnog cupcakes? And no, no more rum. I added three tablespoons instead of two as it is.”
“Could’ve just added the real deal,” Victoria complained.
