He drags his heated cock through my wetness before pushing inside me, feeding me one tortuous inch at a time. I can feel each piercing gliding inside of me, and it drives me insane. I hiss as he stretches me wide. I am sore from last night, but this pain makes me feel alive.
“You feel me, firecracker?”
“Yes,” I pant. “But I need it harder.”
“Patience.”
“Is overrated.”
He chuckles as he hooks my knees in his arms and continues to enter me. There’s a point where he meets a little resistance. He withdraws, making me whimper, then slams inside and steals my breath. I arch my spine to absorb the impact as he buries himself balls deep in my body.
“Fox, I need…” I cut off as I have no clue what I need, but it’s something.
“I know.” I’m glad one of us does. “Hold tight, Honor.” To what? My arms are bound, and he has me pinned open like a butterfly. I clench around him, holding him in the only place I can. “Fuck,” he snarls. He sets a punishing rhythm, and pain blends into pleasure as he works my body into a frenzy.
“I’m going to come,” I say hoarsely.
The T-shirt gets dragged over my head, revealing this god of a man before me, intent on filling my world with pleasure.
“Eyes on me, Honor.”
I focus on his face. His jaw tics as he withholds his own release, waiting for mine. His thumb flicks over my clit as he swivels his hips, grinding a piercing in a place that makes my entire body taut. The bands snap, and I scream his name, dragging him over with me.
He growls my name as he grips my thighs and keeps himself buried deep in my body. “I think I’m addicted to you,” he mutters as he collapses over me and kisses me softly. It’s like he’s in a trance and doesn’t know what he’s saying, but the truth in his words can’t be refuted. The problem is, I feel the same way. It would be so easy to lose myself in this man. His phone breaks the heavy silence, and he reluctantly drags himself away from my body and undoes the rope binding my wrists. He kisses the slight indentation on the sensitive skin before grabbing his phone from his pocket.
“I have to take this,” he says as an apology before tapping the screen. “Larry, what’s wrong?” Fucking Larry. Who is this man that commands Fox’s time? I vow to find out. “Today? Can it wait?” His eyes find mine.
He nods as his eyes narrow on me as I redress.You answered the phone, I’m not hanging around naked for you to kiss and cuddle.He grabs my wrist as I slide off the hood of his car. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s unbreakable.
“Fine, I’ll be there by tonight.” He disconnects the call. “Where are you going?” he asks.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”
He rubs his temple and the weight of the world seems to be pressing down on his shoulders. “I have shit I need to explain to you, but I need to deal with something back in the city first.”
“Why not just tell me now?”
He drops a kiss on my forehead. “Because I don’t want you to run.” Then he strides out of the garage like he hasn’t just alluded to something huge.
Fucking men.
CHAPTER 40
FOX
Sometimes, the evidence is right under your nose.
The yellow cab pulls up in front of the NYPD’s First Precinct, stopping alongside a row of police cars. After paying and tipping the driver, I step out and stare up at the three-story gray stone building. The timing is shit, but this couldn’t be done from home. Leaving Honor when I’ve just brought down her walls is stupid, as it gives her time to erect them again, and that’s not acceptable. I’m hoping to be back in her arms before breakfast, but it depends on how long it takes the detective to ask his ridiculous follow-up questions.
Larry meets me inside and shakes my hand with a grim smile before we’re led through to an interrogation room. He takes a seat next to me, and Detective Greene, a portly man with a receding hairline, comes into the room a moment later with a stack of files and sits across from us. As he goes over information we already know, I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t believe I’m guilty. My eyes narrow as I contemplate what is driving his accusations against me.
He removes a set of photos from one of the files and spreads them across the metal table between us. I tilt my head and pull one of them toward me. In it is the woman I protected for months. Deep purple bruising lines her throat, consistent with having been choked. Scratches line her inner thighs, while bite marks cover her breasts. It’s interesting that this is the first time I’m seeing these.
I point at the one of her breasts. “We could deal with this very quickly. Take an imprint of my teeth and match them.”
“That would be difficult, since the victim has healed. We would only have pictures to compare.”
Larry glares at Detective Greene. “Your forensics can make an educated opinion, though.”
