Oh, sweet fuck.
Her filthy words make me wonder what else that mouth is capable of.
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. Reaching into my boxers, I wrap one hand around the base of my aching cock while the other is inside her. My strokes are languid, from base to tip, in time with the thrusting of my fingers. It’s never been this erect before, and somehow her sweet breathy sounds, the feeling of her soaking my fingers and my tongue, have my balls tightening quickly.
When I add my tongue again, it's game over. Her fingers turn white, clenching the sheets in an attempt to prolong our timebefore her orgasm hits. With the way her barriers are tightening around me and throbbing, it won't be long.
“Preston, I’m going to—”
“This is your night, darling. You don’t need to ask, just come for me. Take what you want from me.”
Then she does.
Her walls collapse, a moan blended with a shriek filling the room from those beautiful lips as mine suck on her clit to drag it out. She pulses around me, filling my mouth with her, and it's the most beautiful thing that could satisfy a man for life.
Her body trembles with the aftershocks, her skin glowing from the orgasm. When her fingers weave through my hair, tugging me upward, I pull my fingers out of her. I release my cock with my other hand and crawl over her body, sprawled out below me like she wants.
“That was—” Kate shakes her head. She’s naked below me. Stunning. Breathtaking as her brows draw together and she asks, “What about you?”
“I don’t break my promises. Tonight was about you and only you. And if you need more nights like this one, days, mornings, that’s exactly what I’ll give you. I need you to tell me you understand that.”
Kate nods sheepishly, exhaling an exhausted breath. “Yes, sir.”
Jesus Christ.
I almost say good girl, but I catch myself. I know that fucker from her past ruined those words for her, and I’ll never let them come out of my mouth.
The future is for new memories. Healing. And Kate deserves a new beginning.
So do I, and I can’t help but feel like maybe I’m holding mine.
TWENTY-TWO | PRESTON
“Are there any ex-boyfriends buried in that research somewhere?”
Brody turns in his computer chair, lifting a dark brow over the rim of his black-framed glasses. One of his five monitors has tens of tabs open. A timeline of Kate’s life is sprawled out before us, my fingers clenched into balls at my side to keep from reaching over him and digging through it all like the bloodthirsty killer I am.
One name. That’s all I fucking need.
“Not that I know of,” he drawls.
I cross my arms. “Then you didn’t do enough digging.”
He shoves his tongue into his cheek, a habit he resorts to when he’s annoyed. “Kate pretty much fell off the map entirely a year ago. No bank records. No digital trails from a credit card. No housing records. No social media. Nothing, Boss. She was thorough.” He rocks back and forth in the chair, the hinges whining beneath his weight. I dig my nails into my biceps, so I don’t cave into my urge to punch him off it. I’m in a bad mood. His constant rocking, combined with the slight squeak, is irritating my nerves.
“You want to tell me what this is fucking about?” A cynical expression pulls at his features. “Because at first you thought she was involved with Luciano, and now you’re asking me about her love life.” I don’t like the way he glares at me knowingly, like he’s in on one of my secrets.
“What’s that?” I point at a picture on the screen.
“Oh. When I did a facial recognition search, that’s the only thing that’s popped up with her face in the last year.”
I study the dark image, the focal point a blonde teenage girl popping a piece of pink gum with her hair twirled around her finger, wearing a pair of the haunted mine ride overalls. Kate is in the background, near the loading platform, looking completely oblivious as the image is being taken, her gaze fixed off toward the line of guests waiting to get on the ride. The background of the social media image is blurry, but there’s no denying it’s Kate.
“It was posted on Instagram a few months ago,” he clarifies.
The door opening has the hairs on my neck raising at attention, and with the way Brody’s spine shoots upward, I don’t need to look to know who walked into the room.
I lower my voice to a low growl only he can hear. “Dig more. I suggest starting the year before she fell completely off the map. Get your hands on any deleted data that hasn’t been overwritten. There’s a reason we hired you.”
