I grin, lifting a hand to pinch her nipple between my thumb and index finger.
“Ah! Hey!” she says in a breathy tone that has me doing it again.
She moves her arm, arching her back and giving me full access to her chest.
When my hand tires of teasing her nipples, it slides lower.
“You killed someone,” she whispers.
I press forward, my forehead connecting to hers.
What I wouldn’t give to taste her kiss. To know what it feels like for her to kiss me back.
I don’t reply.
I can’t.
I spread her lips wide with two fingers, curling them through her pussy and grinning as her moan is low and animalistic.
“And yet, you’re wet for me.”
“It’s not—That’s…” she argues, but I cut her words off, spearing two fingers inside her.
“Don’t worry, my poisonous girl, I won’t tell anyone.”
She whimpers, opening her legs wider.
Her lips hover dangerously close to mine when she arches, blooming for me like a flower.
I forget that I’m supposed to be the one toying with her. That I’m the one in control.
Blood surges, pounding in my ears like a drum as I tease my lips over hers, feeling the vibrations of her moans against them like a hive of bees.
“Wet for a killer, with his fingers fucking you closer to coming. Whatever will they think, pretty poison?” I whisper against her lips.
This seems to rouse her from her stupor, which wasn’t my intent.
I’m left bereft when she pulls back, grabbing my wrist and yanking my fingers from inside her.
She’s so turned on that she’s fighting for air, but my words ruined the moment.
“Goodnight,” she says, rolling over.
My body throbs at the loss, but it’s probably for the best.
Just like Greer, I must realize how much of a hold she has on me.
It’s dangerous.
One can only partake of so much poison before it kills you, and Greer is no different. I need to savor her in small doses.
Maybe it’ll build up a tolerance.
Or maybe I’m a foolish man headed down a road to certain doom, with one woman’s hands on the wheel.
18
Greer
