Page 55 of Killing Emma

“Ooh,” Emma erupts, tipping her back against my shoulder as I fuck her with my fingers. My other hand slips under her shirt and then bra, squeezing her breast.

“That’s it, Little Red,” I groan as her hips move in rhythm with my hand. “Come for me.”

Pleasure contorts her expression, but instead of closing her eyes, she latches onto mine, her chest heaving. I know I’ve already burned him out of her mind at the moment, but I’ll do whatever it fucking takes to keep it this way—to make her forget any fucking man she’s ever been with.

I’ll spend the rest of my life fucking Jared out of her system. I’ll put the life back in her eyes. I’ll deal with her shit moods, her shutdowns, and whatever the fuck else she throws at me. I’d never have chosen someone else like her husband did, even if she hated me. She could spew the vilest words at me, and I’d take it from her. I’ll take it all for her.

And as Emma Marie Nightingale screams my name and pulses around my fingers, I know it’s over for me. There’ll never be another Emma in my fucking life. I’ll die for this woman.

And the revelation damn near brings me to my knees.

I tilt my head and kiss her upside down, my lips tasting the hint of sweat and sweetness on her mouth. She kisses me back with fervor, like she did the first time I kissed her in the darkness of the basement.

But I’ll never put her in the basement again.

“I have something I want to show you,” I say as I pull away. “It won’t take long.”

“Is this your place?” she asks, her voice still sultry with from the moment we just had.

I nod as I help her off the bike. She zips her pants and re-buttons them, and for some reason, the sight is something out of a wet fantasy I never knew I had. My cock strains, against my jeans, but I want her to see my spot first.

“I bought this place when Victor passed away,” I tell her, leading the way to the trailhead. “The thirty-seven acres came up for sale, and I was feeling reckless, I guess,” I laugh at the irony. I’m not sure how real estate compares to murder, but whatever.

“So why buy it?” Her brows furrow as she looks around. “It’s nothing but woods-and hills,” she adds as we start the ascent.

“Yeah, I know, but I used it as a distraction. I didn’t feel like going out and getting hammered or sleeping with a bunch of women who I didn’t care if I lived or died.”

“Detachment at its finest.”

“Okay, judge and juror,” I quip back to her, making her smile. “Anyway, this place was advertised with some kind of lookout, but it wasn’t shown in any pictures. And while I might be a monster, I still have human curiosity.”

“Pretty sure that curiosity is why I’m not dead,” Emma says.

I stop on the trail and turn to face her. “How do you know that?”

She shrugs. “You were curious about me, and I don’t know why—but I could tell. I thought maybe you just tortured your victims…”

“You seemed broken,” I say, digging back to the memories of the first time I laid my eyes on her in the flesh. “I had seen a million pictures of you, but then when I finally really saw you, I was just… curious. You were flawed and flawless at the same time.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment,” Emma mutters, her eyes dropping.

I step toward her and grab her chin, forcing her eyes up. “You’re the only fucking person in this entire universe I have intended to kill and failed. It was the deadpanned stare the night I came after you that hooked me—and the outburst at your ex. It was the way you looked so fucking dead inside, but you came to life when I had you in my grip. And I wanted more. Of you. I wanted all of you.”

Emma bites down on her lip as I release her chin. I don’t give her a chance to say anything, because I don’t want to know her reaction to the way I just bared my soul. It’s foreign and uncomfortable, but also relieving. She knows, and maybe at some point, I’ll tell her that she’s more powerful than me—that she could destroy me faster than I’ve ever killed anyone, and I’m terrified of what will happen at the end of her stay.

But not today.

I’ll hold onto that information for a while longer.

“What’s with the mask you wear?” Emma asks, breaking the silence as we scramble upwards.

“You not like it?”

“I mean, in a creepy kidnapper kind of way, I guess it’s okay.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “It’s more comfortable than a ski mask, honestly, and I don’t like to take chances of someone seeing my face.”

“Hmm,” she hums from behind me as we break out of the tree line. I grab her hand, pulling her toward the rocks—and the view. “Wow,” she says as we make it to the lookout point, a jagged rock overhanging a ledge. “This is gorgeous.”

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