Page 139 of Remy

She gasps. Harder. Faster.

“That’s it.” I apply pressure to her clit and she bucks toward me.

“Remy…”

My name has never been more melodic. A verbal narcotic.

“That’s my good girl. Keep fucking me, Pyro. Give me what I want.”

Her cell clatters to the ground and she grasps the wrist at her throat, her nails digging deep. I keep licking. Biting. Abstaining like a motherfucker.

“Rem…” This time her call is cut short, her lips falling open on a held breath.

Her pussy clamps around me. Her insides flutter.

I feel it all the way to my dick, the tortured organ seeping, jolting, fucking begging.

Her back arches off the door. Her tits thrust against my chest.

I’d give anything to cup them. Suck them. Lap at every sensitive, pebbled inch.

I lean back to watch the pleasure roll through her, a delicate hand strangling my wrist at her throat, the other clutching the door handle while her mouth gapes and her eyes close.

Nothing in this world has ever been more mesmerizing. More capable of bringing me to my knees.

But why? What the fuck is it about her that has me tied in knots?

This woman, with her painfully moral compass and subconscious death wish, has claimed victory over me while I wasn’t even aware we were in battle.

Slowly, she turns lax, her pussy quitting its quivering death squeeze, her shoulders slumping back against the door with a soft thud.

She blinks her eyes open, her cheeks flushed with lust, her teeth dragging over her bottom lip.

Fuck she’s beautiful.

A virginal seductress.

An innocent, naive goddess trapped against the bloodstained clothes of a loathsome murderer.

Shit.

The realization of how I’ve desecrated her hits like a physical blow. How I’ve contaminated someone entirely pure with my filth.

Then the memories of what brought us here wiggle their way back into my consciousness—Flynn. Death. Destruction—and my dick wilts.

I crossed a line.

I. Fucked. Up.

I release her throat, her fingertips gliding from my skin as she stares at me with building unease. “This was a mistake.”

“Excuse me?” she whispers.

I took advantage of an adrenaline-fueled situation.

I risked our business arrangement.

I’m gambling with her life.

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