Page 58 of Devils' Day Party
“Me?! You're a crazy bitch, Trailer Park!” Raz swipes his hand over his face again, laughing and shaking from the cold at the same time. “Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you?”
I crawl out of the creek, fed from snow runoff from the mountains, with my teeth chattering so hard I'm seeing stars. My blazer's come unbuttoned, showing the wet white shirt underneath, and my now very visible red bra.
Raz's eyes find it right away, heat flaring in his gaze before he turns and takes off toward the car again. He pulls his phone off the passenger seat and makes a call as I kick off my wet shoes and socks, losing my sopping wet blazer as I walk.
“Hey. I'm sorta stuck in Eureka Springs,” Raz says, doing an admirable job of keeping his voice steady as he talks to someone—probably Sonja or Barron. “If you don't get over here now, I might just kill Karma.”
I pick up a decorative rock from the garden bed, turn, and look Raz right in the face before I use it to smash one of the car's headlights.
The look in his eyes … I should probably be afraid, but I'm not.
He drops the phone on the seat and comes for me, vaulting over the hood in an effort to keep me from smashing the second headlight. Too late. Raz's fingers close over mine as I draw the rock back from the second smashed bit of plastic, tearing it from my hand and chucking it as hard as he can into the pond. The spring peepers—tiny, loud, absurdly annoying frogs—scatter in the wake of the splash as Raz yanks me forward, putting our wet bodies together before he shoves me back and onto the hood of the car.
His hands reach down for his slacks, unbuttoning them and freeing the hard length of his cock as I lean up on my elbows.
Our eyes stay locked as Raz steps forward, grabbing me by the ankles and yanking me down the hood so I can hook my legs around his waist. I sit up, shaking and shivering as I slide my palms around to the back of his neck.
“You didn't post the video, did you?” I ask, and he narrows his eyes at me.
“What fucking video?” he snaps, but I cut him off, leaning forward and crushing my mouth to his. Raz doesn't leave me in control for long, cupping the back of my head, fingers digging painfully into my wet hair. Based on the look on his face, he doesn't know what video I'm talking about. It wasn't him. If it were, he'd probably gloat about it.
Raz puts his hands up my skirt, tearing off my wet panties and then lining the head of his dick up with my warm folds. I don't bother mentioning that he doesn't need to use a condom. He'd have to be specifically told to put one on or he won't bother. Calix and Raz in stark contrast: the former thinks too much about consequences while the latter cares for them not at all.
“Screw me like you hate me,” I whisper, and then we're coming together in a frenzy. Raz grabs my ass with his left hand, guiding his cock into me with a violent thrusting of his hips, filling me up and making me gasp. We're both soaking wet, ice-cold, and shivering, but it doesn't matter. With our bodies, we create heat, undulating movements of our hips that bring our pelvises together again and again.
It's impossible to miss the slick, wet sound of Raz's cock pummeling my body.
He grinds my ass into the hood of his fancy new car, my plaid skirt wet and bunched up, my panties shredded, a button gaping on my shirt. With a growl, Raz reaches down and tears my top open, revealing two small mounds wrapped in lace. His thumb brushes one pebbled nipple through the fabric as I throw my head back in a moan, lifting my hips to meet his frenzied thrusts.
“Say it,” Raz manages to get out, blood still blooming on his pretty lower lip, his teeth chattering. “Fucking say it, Karma.”
“I hate you,” I whisper back, my own teeth clacking together. Raz leans in and kisses me, warming up all those cold places on the outside. On the inside, I'm still nothing but frost. But I won’t let myself go there just yet.
Our masks slide around as we kiss, glitter brushing off mine and onto his. We make quality masks out here in Devil Springs, Arkansas. They don't come off unless we take them off, and neither Raz nor I is ready to take off our masks just yet.
Moving my own hips in rhythm with his, I grind my clit against Raz's pelvis, feeling these warm, fluttering sensations that make my stomach muscles clench at the same time my cunt locks around Raz. He slows his own motions, groaning and digging his fingers into my hips as we nip and kiss at each other's mouths, tasting the hot copper burn of blood on our tongues.
