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“Isn’t it?” I ask with a humorless laugh before upping the ante.
Her gasp rings out sharp and loud when I thrust a hand between her thighs to cup her sex. Her mouth falls open, and her features soften. Yes, this is what she wants, what we both want, what we’ve always wanted since the club. If things had gone differently that night, I would’ve fucked her until she swore she was hit by a hurricane. I might never have let her out of my bed.
“Say it again,” I croon close to her ear, grinning at the way she shivers when my breath hits her skin. “Tell me this isn’t what you want. Come on, Detective. Lie to me. I dare you.”
“It’s not a lie.” Her blue eyes hold mine in her delivery. There is a heat behind them, heat that does something to me.
“Isn’t it?” I press my fingers against her warm flesh, massaging her clit through her clothes, laughing when she slaps weekly at my shoulders.
Like that would stop me.
“Drop the act,” I whisper against her ear before running my tongue along the seashell curve of her lobe. She gasps, then does exactly what I knew she would do. She parts her legs and bears down on my hand.
And she begins to grind.
Now I wonder if I’ve made a mistake because if I get much harder, I’ll break the zipper on my pants. Her breath is warm against my neck, hot and frantic. Every grind of her hips marks a bit more of herself she’s willing to give to me, one step further away from whoever she thinks she is. And this is why I can’t bring myself to end her life. The thrill of satisfaction, knowing I was right, that she sees me clearly but still can’t deny what her body needs. I could become addicted to it.
I might already have.
“Are you going to come for me?” I growl as I press harder, rubbing her clit while she whimpers and moans.
“No… no!” Her weak protests fall on deaf ears.
“Tell me to stop,” I whisper before nipping her earlobe and savoring her helpless cries. She’s soaked through her thong and pants, and the fabric molds itself to her lips. “Just tell me to stop, Emilia. Tell me to stop before I make you come.”
“You… you have to…” It’s a plea, a sob, but it still isn’t enough to make her quit the slow, rhythmic grinding against the heel of my hand.
“That’s not quite good enough. Make me stop. Do it if that’s what you really want.”
“I… I…” Then she gasps, and one of her hands finds the back of my head before her fingers thread through my hair and tug hard while her body shudders in release.
She never stood a chance.
I have to force myself to step back when every part of me demands I keep going. I don’t want to stop at a single orgasm. It’s not enough to smell her arousal on my hand. I need to taste, to drive my tongue between those plump lips and lap up every drop of her.
When her eyes open to meet mine, there’s a simple truth behind them. She wants the same thing. My cock is hard enough it’s painful, and she is so tempting, willing even, but I won’t. Because once I do, it will be that much more impossible for this to end.
And it has to end.
“Clean up that wet pussy,” I mutter as I back away, noting how she trembles under the weight of my stare.
Her body sags a little against the sink as she lowers her head. “You’re a bastard,” she whispers.
I’ve been called much worse, but hearing it from her makes me tick. “The bastard who just made you come… and you’re welcome for that,” I add, snickering when she flinches in shame. “Go back to bed once you’re clean. Don’t make me tell you again.”
I could join her. I should lie beside her to make sure she doesn’t move or sneak out of the room and do anything stupid. The thing is, I can’t trust myself, knowing the temptation would be too much to ignore if we were that close. It’s safer to stretch out on the sofa, fully dressed.
I don’t bother to take off my shoes. At a time like this, it’s always best to be prepared to move. Considering I am no closer to deciding my next steps, there’s always the chance we’ll have to make a run for it.
And the fact that I think of it as we rather than I doesn’t give me much comfort.
13
EMILIA
I’m going to die.
I can’t reach my gun, and I’m going to die.
