Page 51 of Bird on a Blade

I roll on top of her, not breaking the kiss, and she parts her legs for me. I don’t slide in just yet, though. Instead, I keep kissing her, on her mouth and her neck and her tits, and telling her all these things that are true. Like how I’m going to protect her. And how I won’t let her ex-husband hurt her. And how fucking beautiful she is. And how she’s my perfect prey.

And it’s not long at all before I can feel the moisture between her thighs.

I settle myself between her, rubbing my cockhead against her clit until she’s squirming and gasping, her eyes glassy with pleasure. I want it to be nice this time, not rough and violent, so I go slow, easing myself into her tight, sweet cunt. But I’m only about an inch in when she puts her hand on my arm and says, “Do you think I’m a good person?”

I go still, blinking down at her. She looks kind of sheepish but also kind of hopeful.

Then I push all the way in, making her whimper with pleasure.

“Edie,” I say, “You’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Her lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I don’t need her to. And honestly, I don’t need to say anything else, either. I want to show her what it means to me, her being here even though she’s a human woman who worries about shit like that, being a goodperson, and I’m the monster that girls like her are supposed to fear.

I roll my hips against her, pulling my cock out real slow and then guiding it back in, relishing the way her pussy walls flutter against my hardness. Edie sinks back on the pillow, giving herself over to the pleasure the way she does. Her hips move with mine, and I push up so I’m on my knees, her ankles propped on my shoulder. I want to see her while I fuck her. I want to watch her body move and her skin flush. And I want to reach down and play with her clit.

“Sawyer,” she whispers, pushing herself down on my cock, her hands coming up to squeeze her tits. It drives me wild.

“Say my name again,” I tell her, maybe a little more harshly than I intend.

Her eyes flutter open, and she looks right at me. “Sawyer,” she says, louder, and I fuck her a little faster, rubbing my thumb over her clit. “Sawyer,” she gasps. “Fuck, Sawyer, right there…”

She arches into me, her words dissolving into a low, throaty groan. I can tell from the way she’s shaking that she’s close, but she’s not there yet. I close my own eyes and just keep rolling into her, letting my thoughts go blank. I don’t think about killing—not her, not anybody. All that matters is how good she feels on my cock. All that matters are those desperate noises she makes as she comes closer and closer to finishing.

When she comes, she groans, her rolling hips going still even as her pussy clamps down hard on me. I fuck her through it, the way I discovered I like to, drawing everything out for her. Then I fold myself down so I can kiss over her tits and neck and mouth. She wraps her arms around me, pulling me into her, clinging to me the way she did that night I killed all her tormenters.

And just as long as we’re like this, me buried to the hilt in her perfect body, her squeezing me in close, I can pretend she loves me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

EDIE

Sawyer goes with me to the cabin so I can pack up my things. He doesn’t say much as we walk through the woods together, although I keep catching him when he glances over at me, his dark eyes unreadable, even as a smile curves on his lips. Every now and then his knuckles brush against mine, and I don’t know if it’s intentional or not. It’s weird to imagine a serial killer—or a Hunter, or a boogeyman, or whatever he is because he clearly doesn’t see himself as human—wanting to hold hands.

When we get to the cabin, though, anything as sweet and innocent as holding hands evaporates, because Baro’s car is still parked behind mine.

“Fuck,” I say, but Sawyer just tucks my hair behind my ear and smiles down at me.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he says, and then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key fob and winks at me.Winks, like we’re in on some joke together.

What the fuck am I doing? Am I seriously going tomove inwith him?

You’re just staying with him, I tell myself.Until you know it’s safe. He can obviously protect you.

“I should have taken care of this earlier,” he says. “When it was storming. But I—” He pauses. “I was eager to get back. Make sure you were okay.”

He always does this. Says something that makes all my reservations melt away.

“What are you going to do with it?” I try to ignore the cold feeling in my chest.

“Take it to another trailhead,” he says smoothly. “Leave it there. Walk back. Throw the keys in the woods.” He smiles at me. It’s oddly reassuring. “I’ll help you load up your car first, though.”

He comes with me into the cabin. Everything’s exactly how I left it, which is unnerving becauseIfeel like a completely different person. I have Sawyer Caldwell’s teeth marks on my shoulder. My pussy and throat are both sore. I gave myself over to him, and I fucking liked it.

Focus. “I’ll get my suitcase packed,” I tell him. “I don’t have a whole lot.”

“How about your food?” He nods toward the kitchen. “We can bring that back to my place. We can try to use up anything that’ll spoil tonight.”

Part of me wants to leave the food behind. That’s the ED voice, and I know it, trying to claw its way back into my life just like Scott is. I shouldn’t eat. Not eating will purify me.

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