I step around the desk and walk toward him. His eyes are still open, fixed on me like they’re judging me even now. But I can’t risk any of this. Not now. Not when the path is finally clear for me and my little kitten.
I hear footsteps rushing up the stairs.
I set the revolver on the sofa beside Victor’s body and hurry to the door, stepping outside just before she reaches it, and I pull it shut behind me.
“I heard...” she starts, her eyes red and wet with tears.
She’s been crying.
“A bottle slipped and broke,” I say. “I’ll let Margaret clean it up.”
More tears spill down her cheeks. I step closer and cup her face in my hands. “Hey, hey,” I murmur, trying to calm her. “What happened?”
“She...” She sniffs. “She confessed to killing Lilibeth,” she says, and I wipe the tears from beneath her eyes. “And...”
I pull her into my arms and press a kiss to her forehead. “Shh... Don’t cry.”
She leans back just enough to look at me. “The cops said you were in the same accident I was.”
Fuck.
“Yeah,” I say, choosing each word carefully. “I was in one of the cars Daniel hit when he forgot how brakes work.”
She steps closer, rising onto her tiptoes, her fingers curling into my collar. Her face presses against my neck as she breathes in my cologne, then whispers, “It was you, wasn’t it? You were the man who saved me.”
I nod. “And I’d do it all over again.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asks.
Instead of answering, I pull her closer and crash my mouth against hers, slipping my tongue past her lips. My hand glides to her thigh, drawing her against my hips before I lift her into my arms.
I break the kiss just enough to say, “I forgot.”
She lets out a soft chuckle. I feel her smile against my mouth as I hold her tighter and carry her toward the master bedroom. She wraps her legs around my hips like she was always meant to be there, like she’s letting me take what was mine long before either of us planned any of it.
That room was always hers. The master bedroom belonged to her in the same way the rest of me did, because along the way, she became the master of my life.
She was the air I craved, the only thing that ever felt enough, and God forbid anyone stand in the way of that, because I would kill.
I wouldkillforher.
I woulddieforher.
My feet carry us to the bed, and I lower her onto it gently. I slip off her sneakers and socks, then move to her jeans, undoing the buttons and tugging them down her legs until she’s left in nothing but black lace thongs.
“Oh, God,” I gasp as I lean closer. “I missed this pussy of yours.”
She stops me with the press of her foot, biting down on her lower lip. I drag my face along the length of her foot until her toes brush my mouth. I press a kiss there, then guide her foot to my shoulder as I trail my way up, inside of her thighs, taking my time just to feel her shiver beneath me.
She stops me again, lifting my head, her fingers wrapping around my jaw and drawing me back to her. “Kiss me, silly,” she whispers. “And don’t you dare stop.”
My lips find hers and crash hard. I catch her lower lip between my teeth before my tongue slips into her mouth, and she meets me there like she’s been starving too. It feels like falling into something filthy and ruined and perfect, the kind of kiss I know better than to want and still never could resist.
“I’m addicted to you,” I whisper against her lips. “I’m obsessed.” I kiss her again. “And I want to fuck you so bad it makes me crazy.”
She smiles and pulls me closer, rolling me onto the bed until she’s above me.
She pauses for a second, her thighs settling around my hips while her fingers make quick work of my trousers, pushing them down until they fall near my ankles. Then she positions herself over me, one hand sliding between us, teasing my hard cock justenough to pull a groan from my chest before she lowers herself on top, taking full length, stealing the rest of my breath.
