“This is okay, as long as you don’t move,” he said, playing along.
She started gliding on him while she pinched and pulled her nipples. “Oops, look at me. I’m accidentally fucking you. Are you relaxed?”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way she moved on him, the innocence in her voice, the control she had over her breathing.
“Can you touch my tits?”
Leaning down, she started moving faster on his shaft while her moans urged him toward a release. He pinched her nipples eliciting squeals from her. “Ooooh, you’re such a bad boy.”
He pulled her onto him, kissed her hard. “You shouldn’t be fucking me,” he growled.
“But I am, and I’m doing it soooo good.”
Faster and faster she moved until his balls pulled up tight. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.” He grabbed her hips, holding her in place while he thrust to her end and poured himself into her.
“Oh, yeah” she groaned. “I’m coming so hard.” Convulsing and crying out, she released an intense orgasm that drenched his cock with her juices.
Britain
Their mouths metin a brutal kiss that went on and on and on. She couldn’t stop grinding on him, but when he slowed the kiss, she opened her eyes.
A very sated Rebel awaited. The corners of his mouth lifted into a just-got-fucked-so-good smiled.
“I love bad-girl Britain,” he murmured.
She kissed him. “You unleash my beast.”
“I love your beast,” he said before pressing his lips to her cheek. His gaze softened. “I love all of you, Brit.”
“What’s happening between us?” she whispered.
“You know.”
“I can’t get my heart shredded.”
“I’m yours. No matter what life throws at us, I will be by your side.”
“That’s so adult,” she whispered. “You’re the firstrealman I’ve ever been with.”
“And the last.”
She stared into his eyes for the longest time. “Doesn’t that scare you?”
“Being with you excites me. I’m not a me anymore. I’m an us.”
The following morning,at five-forty-five, they were in Rebel’s home office reviewing every aspect of the case. From the wiped-down crime scenes to the positioning of the bodies, to the evidence left at the scene, they analyzed and studied every damn detail.
Only this time, they asked the question, “Could Honor or Liliana be the Alphabet Killer?”
The thought that her mom could have done this made her sick to her stomach, but she pushed on.
Brit pulled up the pics of the evidence from three of the crime scenes. “We’ve got blonde hair.”
“Like Liliana,” Rebel replied. “We’ve got an earring.”
“That large earring is something Liliana might wear,” Brit said. “Honor doesn’t wear earrings. The lipstick found at the scene is expensive. Doesn’t sound like Honor has any money, but Jordan does.”
“What’s his story?”
