Page 70 of Brutal Ice

Her nails bit into his shoulders. She’d closed her eyes when she came, and now, they slowly opened. The gold gleamed. Gorgeous.

Mine.

He kissed her. Drove his tongue into her mouth and tasted the sweetness that waited. A sweetness that belonged to him.

“Royal…” Soft. Confused. “You didn’t…”

“I will.” Absolute certainty. “And you will again.” He spun them. Had her beneath him on the bed. And the time for holding back was gone. He withdrew. Thrust. Sank into her again and again and soon she was bucking and arching beneath him. Her short nails raked down his back. Her legs curled around him.

In and out.

Again and again.

Sinking into heaven time and time again.

The devil wasn’t supposed to touch heaven.

His fingers skimmed over her. Breasts. Hips. Legs.

The devil wasn’t supposed to taste heaven.

His mouth claimed hers once more. He’d never, ever get enough of her.

He plunged into her again.

The devil wasn’t supposed to take heaven…

But he was. He took her and when she came again, he was right with her. He detonated on a release that was hotter than any fire from hell could ever be.

The trunk opened. The screeching of the hinges seemed horribly loud to Simone’s ears. She had no idea how long she’d been in the dark. She just knew that she had one chance. Just one.

“I’m not Violet!” she screamed even as gloved hands reached for her.

The hands froze.

Her fingers knotted in the stupid wig she’d found in the back of the trunk. It had fallen off in the dressing room. She remembered that, and her attacker must have tossed it in after he’d dumped her body in the back of the car. She shoved the wig forward like an offering. “That’s why you took me, isn’t it? Because you thought I was her?” Her throat hurt. Her mouth felt far too dry.

I was in Violet’s dressing room.

I had on the wig that looked like her hair.

I’m the same size she is.

And he’d attacked Simone from behind. He hadn’t seen her face when he’d grabbed her.

The gloved hands snatched the wig.

She didn’t look up. She didn’t want to see his face. If she saw his face, didn’t that mean he wouldn’t let her go? “It’s a mistake,” she whispered. “You just made a mistake.” You don’t want me. You want her.

Silence.

No, not total silence. She could hear the distant call of insects.

He wasn’t moving. She was barely breathing.

The thick tape he’d used to bind her tugged at Simone’s wrists. “You can just let me go.” A plea. “I don’t know who you are. I-I won’t say anything.”

He dropped the wig. It slithered into the trunk with her.

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