Page 198 of Pretty Little Lies

“Against South Shore.”

That’s a lie, and I feel bad for tricking him; however, I can’t move past this until I know he’s with mewithme.

Torin’s brows knit. “Why would you want to do that?”

“My own reasons.”

Pretty Boy halts his movements, keeping himself deep and leaving me to squirm against his thickness. “Did someone else hurt you?”

“Not physically.” His nostrils flare. “Do you need to know all the?—”

“No,” he manages to say before arching himself back into me and working us back into a steady rhythm. “No, I don’t need to know anything.”

“You sure? Because there’s more.” He shakes his head and bites down on his lower lip. “I want to go against Emilio Wildes, too.”

“Get in line, baby,” he growls at a spot he hits inside me and appears unconcerned or bothered by what I’m saying. “Fuck me. I want that sweet cunt to milk me dry.”

I follow his orders, up and down, and with a slow swivel of my hips. Torin urges me on by meeting me thrust for propel, running his hands all over my body.

I might have him exactly where I could destroy him.

However, all I want to do is protect and…eventually, love him.

“Shit, right there,” Torin snarls out. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

“Deeper you said?” I slam into him, causing us both to gasp as I go full throttle. My body and movements get sloppy and uncalculated, but Torin loves it. His breathing is so fucked up that I can hear it over mine.

Torin cheats and finds my clit, rubbing torturous circles around it before I crumble and keel over, giving him a new angle to drill inside me.

When he’s ready, he pulls out of me, spilling himself into his hand as we heave in well-needed oxygen.

I move to the side to sit beside him and that’s when he grips me by my t-shirt to place a long and slow kiss to my lips.

“In case you were confused, Wildfire…I’m in love with you. Fuck Emilio Wildes, South Shore, The Landings, everything. It’s me, and you…and that stupid motherfucker, Reeve.”

FIFTY-FIVE

torin

I can still smellher on my skin. The sweet taste of her on my tongue from when I ate her out before I left her house this morning.

I’d rather be doing everything we did last night over and over again than torturing some stupid motherfucker who was snooping around town asking questions about us.

Blood splatters all over my blue tee as the guy cowers over in his chair, grunting and mumbling shit I don’t take any mind to. He won’t give up on why he’s here, which only causes a sliver of anxiety to creep up my spine.

Always enemies.

Always someone up our ass wanting to either take us down or completely out.

However, there’s a more pressing matter that’s been bothering me since last night when Bay was riding my dick like a champ with nothing but my complete seriousness in her eyes.

Would you go to war for me?

The answer was as simple as breathing, except why? I didn’t fathom asking in the moment because—well, like I said, that beautiful creature was sucking my soul from my body andputting me in the most delirious and sated state, but afterward, when she started to drift on and off to sleep, it started to build.

Why would my girl want to go to war with both South Shore and The Landings?

Unless it was a trick question which, if it was, I passed off my own free will. If she wants motherfuckers dead for hurting or crossing her, all she needs to do is say the names and it’s done. I’ll even do the shit myself.

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