The Pythonist: Catty & Sam's Spicy Bonus Scene

Carefully holding the blade with my teeth, I poured myself another shot of vodka while my phone remained pressed between my ear and the top of my shoulder. The transparent curtains were drawn over the sliding balcony doors, immersing the hotel room in darker shadows than usual as Catty slept soundly in our bed. It was hard to pour my liquor out accurately with the lack of light, but it didn’t really matter; I’d be finished with the bottle by the end of the night, one way or another.

The familiar tenor of Marco Fox’s distinctly British and royally pissed off voice came barrelling down the line again, grating against my eardrums. I flinched so hard that I nearly dropped the phone, and all I could manage was a garbled sound around the sharp, cool metal in my mouth to calm him down.

It sounded less like a plea for him to be reasonable and more like Catty had gagged me, though.

“Oh, no, don’t you dare try to shut me up about this, Sammy,” my idiotic old friend snarled into the speaker. “I’ve been cooped up in this house for six months because you neglected to tell me that taking over the deed to this godforsaken house would mean that I could never set foot outside the front gates again.”

His words made me cringe, but for entirely new reasons.

I screwed the cap back on the vodka bottle and took the knife out of my mouth, keeping it in one hand while I used the other to reach for my glass. “I didn’t realise that was going to happen,” I whispered honestly. My head was still on an unnatural angle to juggle the phone, so I flipped the knife around and freed it, straightening before I brought the glass to my lips. “How are you sleeping at night?”

“How am I sleeping at night?” Marco repeated, gobsmacked. His voice rose an octave, causing my eyes to shutter. “How the fuck do you think I’m sleeping, Sammy? I’m a fucking prisoner. My days are filled with existential fucking dread, and everything in this house makes noise overnight, so I’m about ready to throw myself into that goddamn duck pond—”

“Look,” I cut in before trailing off into an immediately uncertain silence.

I didn’t know what to tell him about Kingsley Manor or the daemon’s bargain that was tethering him to the estate. He was already freaking out on me.

With a brusque sigh, I placed my glass down, and then pinched the bridge of my nose as I turned around to lean against the counter. The clock on the microwave told me that Catty had been asleep for nearly an hour now, which meant that I had to wrap up the call with Marco in the next couple of minutes if I still wanted to make the most of the night we had planned.

“I will talk to Catty in the morning and see if she’s ready to visit Kingsley Manor again, but if she’s not, then you’re just going to have to fucking wait until she is, okay?”

The sound of Marco gnashing his teeth together rumbled down the line like distant thunder in the clouds. “I know she’s been to Hell and back in this house,” he hissed, “but I’m going to fucking starve. There’s nothing left in the cupboards here and I’m on the last week’s worth of the home-cooked meals the old woman left in the deep freezer.”

My chest tightened at the mention of James, the bitter taste of vodka still fresh on my tongue. I took another sip from my glass for good measure, lifting my gaze to the ceiling, and then raised it in salute to her memory.

“Order groceries online,” I suggested lightly as I turned to put my glass down beside the sink. “Or get take out.”

There was a dangerously short pause, during which time I could’ve sworn that Marco stopped breathing altogether, and then—

“I CAN’T OPEN THE FUCKING GATES!”

“Fuck,” I cursed, and I actually did drop the phone.

It clattered onto the bench, knocking my glass into the sink. I glanced up to make sure the commotion hadn’t disturbed my sleeping beauty.

Of course it hadn’t.

Catty gladly slept through many far more disruptful occurrences on a nightly basis. Most of which tended to involve me moaning unrestrained, sometimes incoherent praise into her ear. Or cursing the heavenly way her sleeping body seduced me into sliding my cock inside her before I’d had the chance to try anything else almost every single time.

Except for tonight.

Tonight, we had a plan, and I was under strict instructions not to stray from it.

“Sam?” Marco barked down the line, breaking my trance. “Did you fucking hear me? I can’t open the goddamn gates to let the—”

“I heard you,” I snapped, dragging a hand down my face. That goddamn fucking daemon. “I’ll figure something out,” I promised him.

Even from a distance, the spirits residing in Kingsley Manor were toying with me, trying to force my hand. They had better be prepared to play a long game, though, because I refused to bring Catty back to Sassafras before she was ready for it.

Her therapist said it might be the right time for her to take that step, but I didn’t give a damn about the therapist’s opinion. If Catty wasn’t ready, then she wasn’t fucking ready.

“I gotta go, Fox. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“You better show up here tomorrow with food and booze or I’ll—”

I ended the call.

Shit. Marco was rightfully angry with me for tricking him into taking on Catty’s bargain with the daemon at Kingsley Manor, even though he deserved it.

For years, I had worked alongside him. I watched his back, lost out on opportunities to leave the underworld’s miserable slums because it would have meant leaving him behind, and treated him like a brother—but the whole time, he had been working undercover for the Australian Federal Police.

Marco Fox—or whatever the fuck his real name was—had been investigating the serial killer Alex Kingsley while also becoming a serial killer in his own right during the time he worked for my father.

He was a double agent, betraying both sides of the law for reasons that I still didn’t understand, but I’d spent years risking my life and reputation for his whims and fancies. I’d nearly broken my neck looking the other way whenever he decided to take a job too far, and I probably would have continued to do so, if it wasn’t for the fact that he had tied my girl up on top of her own father’s fucking grave the day it all went down at Kingsley Manor.

I didn’t care that he was never planning to hurt her.

I didn’t care that he was very gentle with her.

I didn’t even care that Catty had forgiven him for it.

I hadn’t.

Marco Fox ended up with the punishment he deserved. Imprisonment at Kingsley Manor was better than the life he would have ended up with on the inside at one of the state’s facilities, considering the crimes he’d committed, and the enemies he’d made during years of playing everyone for a fool. It was all very public now, so while I might be punishing him for betraying me, I was also saving his ass.

Again.

I had no idea what he had done before we met or why he was even put on Alex Kingsley’s case in the first place. We hadn’t talked much since the brief conversation on the tram into Belgrave. I’d handed him the deed to the estate because he was running out of places to hide and favours to call in—and I still had a debt to pay.

So, it had worked out pretty well in the end, and while Marco might have liked to kick and scream about his isolation, I was certain the daemon wouldn’t let him starve.

But I’d visit him soon. I would. I’d been meaning to for a while, and… 

Fuck it. I’d leave for Sassafras in the morning, and Catty could spend some time with my sister, if she wasn’t ready to come with me.

However, for the rest of the night, I was going to push thoughts about Marco Fox well and truly out of my head so that I could focus on my girl and all the sick, depraved, unbelievably erotic things she was going to let me do to her.

Placing the knife back between my teeth, I used both hands to unbuckle my belt as I sauntered around the kitchen bench. Thousands of coloured lights dotted the window, muted by the sheer curtains. They poured an iridescent sheen of light over my sleeping beauty’s smooth, mouth-watering flesh, giving our bed a faint illumination that would guide me to the heavenly spot I craved between her legs.

I cocked my head to the side as I ran my gaze over her body, again and again. Catty Kingsley was the most beautiful woman in the world, dead or alive, and I counted my lucky fucking stars every single day that she was mine.

Mine.

Mine to hold. Mine to fuck. Mine to protect. Mine to ruin.

The days where Catty ran from me were long over. Now, I preyed upon her while she slept, so she had no opportunity to escape—and there were very few other things in this life that made her scream so loudly or smile so widely other than the games we played in our sheets at night.

Between the countless months of therapy spent putting herself back together and the endless nights falling apart again in my arms, Catty was getting there.

She was getting better.

I would never be able to mend the permanent fracture in her heart that was put there the day James died. Nothing could, and sometimes the violent old woman’s memory even brought moisture to my eyes, despite the fact that she had assaulted me with multiple gardening apparatuses and fed me sandpaper melted down into porridge for months. At the very least, though, I’d been able to bandage the wound in Catty’s chest—and with an injury like that, it was the only thing that could be done.

We managed the symptoms, knowing that grief could never be cured.

At least she didn’t have to take care of her own wounds.

She had me for that.

I’d bandage them. I’d lick them for her, too.

Fuck.

I’d do anything she ever asked of me.

She was mine, but I was hers—to control, to use, to wield, to own. I was so hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Cathleen Kingsley that I was running out of new and deviously creative ways to show it to her.

My belt clattered to the floor, the blade still resting in my mouth as my trousers and boxers quickly followed, and my cock sprung free, thick and heavy with anticipation of the pleasure it was about to receive. The night was warm, even with the air conditioning, so my beautiful woman slept above the sheets in the most salacious white negligee that I’d ever laid eyes on.

It was a gorgeous, intricately woven slip of fabric that barely covered her ass and crossed over her full breasts with ribbons and delicately embroidered lace. I could see the darker outline of her nipples through it, a deep blush colour that I had memorized, and I was practically salivating at the thought of ripping that lovely, flimsy lace to shreds and suckling on them until they became hard, delicious peaks.

A dribble of precome leaked from my tip, and I used my thumb to spread it around, massaging it into my skin as I fisted my erection and tugged on it a few times to relieve the pulsing ache.

With my free hand, I retrieved the knife from my teeth and traced it over Catty’s figure in the air before me, mapping out the exact places I was going to use it on my sleeping beauty before my thrusts inside her warm, wet cunt woke her up again.

Fuck, no. That’s not the plan this time. Get it together, Sam.

Knife in hand, I climbed onto the bed. My cock dripped onto the sheets beneath her legs as it hung heavy, low, and hard as granite between us. It jerked with a pulse of excitement as I lightly ran the knife up the inside of Catty’s thigh, already far too eager to sink into the familiar heat of her sweet pussy and fuck her until she woke up screaming my name.

Pulling a deep breath into my lungs, I steadied myself and lifted the hem of her nightgown with my blade. I pulled it upwards until the edge of the knife pierced the fabric and tore clean through it.

Catty didn’t stir while I worked, cutting the lace away from her body in three quick, violent slashes. My eyes ravenously watched as her breasts swelled against her sides, no longer held in one particular place by the knots of ribbon between them, and I used the tip of my knife to carefully push the remaining shreds of fabric away from each of her gorgeous, round tits until they were fully bare to me. Her nipples were already perking up at the cool intrusion of my blade’s gentle caresses.

Her soft flesh was naked and exposed beneath me, but I added two more cuts to the thin straps over her shoulders to free her completely before I discarded the knife on the bed beside us. I bent my head to place a few loving kisses against her hips, moving my greedy mouth to her stomach, then her sternum, before I finally let my tongue circle her breasts, one at a time.

The hot, wet tip of my tongue nudged each of her nipples awake with devouring strokes. As they hardened, so did my dick, already swollen and aching with impatience to the point where my thoughts started to slur like I was drunk.

Maybe I was drunk, but it wasn’t from the bottle. It was from her.

“You’re so sweet,” I whispered, bracing myself with both hands above Catty’s head as I bent down to lap up the taste of her bare skin and pert nipples. I repeated the action, murmuring, “So fucking sweet to me, baby. Letting me play with you before you’re even awake. Letting me fuck you with my hands and tongue whenever I like, all while you dream about taking my cock. Oh, fuck.”

Hot, aching pleasure burned lines of fire through my veins, scorching my nerve endings until they sang with anticipation. 

I caught her nipple between my teeth, sucking it into my mouth, and then pulled my head back with a low, guttural moan until it popped out from between my lips and I was grinding my erection into the mattress between her legs to relieve the pressure.

Catty’s breathing was even, soft, and so fucking sexy as I trailed my tongue along her collarbone and up the side of her neck. Every time my hips drove into the mattress, I grazed my teeth along her skin, biting and licking and nipping at her flesh until she would be neatly decorated with little bruises and bite marks in the morning’s light.

Fast asleep or wide awake, Catty made me so hard that I thought I might come from kissing the column of her throat if I didn’t hurry the fuck up. Greedily, I moved higher along her body until I had a hand braced on the headboard, while the other fisted my cock and held it over her dreamy face.

I tugged on my dick with slow movements, lazily dragging my fist back and forth, determined to keep my shit together for as long as possible. When my heart stopped racing at impossible speeds, I risked a glance down at her, and— 

Fuck.

She was so beautiful. So perfect.

Catty’s features were relaxed, her dark eyelashes resting against her cheeks as she slept only an inch beneath my hand, holding my rock-hard cock over her face, threatening to spill drops of come onto her lovely, soft mouth. My heart thundered, an uncontrollable spark lighting at the base of my spine and ricocheting small flickers of euphoria all over my body as I dragged the head of my dick over her face.

I started on her forehead, trailing the sticky tip over her nose, then down to her plump upper lip, where she would be able to taste me.

“You’re such a good girl,” I praised softly. “Such a good fucking girl for me, Terror. I love the way your skin looks painted with my come. God, you should see how pretty you are right now. How fucking beautiful the sight of you beneath me is, making me drip all over you. I would’ve killed for a view like this, and yet you beg me for it.” 

Stifling a deep moan, I used my erection to part her mouth, prying it open far enough to slide the very tip of my dick against the wet, unspeakable heat of her lower lip. And then incrementally further. It hit her teeth, and an unrestrained shiver raced down my spine in response.

Slipping two fingers into the side of her mouth, I coaxed it to open up a little further, until there was enough room for me to slide an inch or two deeper. There was no resistance, but the edges of her teeth scraped against me so gently, and the fear that she could hurt me—completely by accident if she forgot about our plans for even a second—made the pleasurable ache in my balls tighten to the point of borderline pain.

“I am so fucking turned on right now, Catty.” My breathing became ragged. “Fuck, I wish I could kiss you. Your mouth around my cock is so—”

A moan spilled from my throat as I thrust into her, completely out of my goddamned mind and absolutely beside myself with indulgence. I had to force my hips to still, my hand clutching the headboard for dear life. The urge to fuck her mouth senseless while she was unconscious almost overwhelmed me, but our plan was to take it slow—for me to tease her awake, tempting her to suck on my dick as she woke up like it was her morning coffee. 

“How’d I get so fucking lucky with you, baby?” I breathed.

Could someone die from an overdose of love? Because this fucking woman…

I was an entirely other person inside her, so I let my restraint loose by another inch, and sank a little deeper into Catty’s divine mouth.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” I crooned, the sound of my voice barely more than a whimper. I was unmoored—unquestionably having an out of body experience. “God, I can’t fucking help it. I’m going to slide my cock all the way into your mouth now so you can get it nice and wet. And also because I might come just from the sight of you like this, which I don’t mind admitting while you’re fast asleep.”

I kept my fingers in place, widening her mouth for me as I slipped my dick in deeper, pushing until I hit the back of her throat. Her breathing escalated ever so slightly and it was the hottest, most erotic sound in the world at that exact moment in time.

“You gonna wake up so you can suck my dick properly, Terror?”

Catty’s tongue moved, sliding against the underside of my length as her throat worked around a swallow like she was choking, and her teeth gently brushed against me—but then immediately pulled away again.

“That’s my girl,” I murmured. “That’s my gorgeous fucking girl. You want to try that again, baby?” I pulled out slightly, then thrust into her mouth again, slowly feeding her another two inches of my cock as she took a few steady breaths in through her nose. “I’ll give you one more chance to suck me off before I bury my head between your legs. Do you wanna wake up and play, Terror?”

Her eyes stayed closed, but she smiled around my dick, and the vibrations from her moan of agreement nearly sent me over the fucking edge.

“Hey, baby.” I caressed her face, brushing hair back from her forehead and tucking it behind her ears. “Fuck, you’re a vision, Catty.”

It took everything I had not to spill my load down her throat as she began to suck on me, slowly working her tongue around my girth while she squirmed against the mattress and slid her hands over my hips until her nails were digging into the hard planes of my stomach. 

“Are you going to make me come now, baby?”

Catty shook her head ever so slightly and moaned again.

“Please, Terror.” My palm was clammy, slipping against the headboard as I drove my hips against her face, and she sucked my cock down her throat like it was water. “I’m so fucking desperate to come in your mouth.” My breath hitched as she responded,  sucking harder. “God, baby. Please tell me you want me to come in your mouth. Keeping sucking, baby. That’s it. Fuck. Harder—”

Her hands traced my abs, nails scratching against my skin until I was sure that I was bleeding, and she pushed me back far enough to pull most of my length free from her mouth. Eyes closed, she licked up the side of my cock, sliding the tip of her tongue into the slit on the head before swallowing my length again.

“You are going to destroy me,” I rasped, beginning to fuck her mouth in earnest. “I’m so fucking glad you’re awake because I was going to—fuck, baby. Oh, fuck, fuck…”

Catty hummed around my length as she lifted her head, deep-throating me until her lips were curled around the hilt and my balls were slapping against her voice box, and I was undone. I was so fucking undone, I didn’t think I’d ever be the same.

I was a hot, sticky, whimpering mess as I orgasmed inside her mouth and she drank down my come like the perfect fucking dream girl she was for me. All I could hope was that my murmurs of praise were coherent enough for her to understand as I leaned back on my hands, head tipped up at the ceiling in utter worship of my woman, and mumbled words of devotion until I was spent and my voice was hoarse.

Sitting upright in the bed, my girl wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and beamed up at me with the single most angelic smile I’d ever seen on her pretty face. 

My heart grew six fucking sizes as she giggled and said, “That was utterly diabolical. We have to do it again.”

I stared at her, bewitched.

The only logical, intelligible thought in my mind was comprised of two words:

Marry me.