Page 84 of Slay Ride

“I-I can’t!” she says.

Oh, I think she can.

I move my hands to her shoulders and grind against her at a steady rhythm. She pushes my chest with one hand, silently begging me to save her, but I won’t. Not this time. This time, I’ll ruin her.

“Who’s going to come first?” I say. “The kitten or the sleigh?”

As one hand works her clit, her other grips my coat. But she isn’t pushing me away now. She’s pulling me closer.

“Fuck, I’m coming,” she whispers. “Cover my mouth, cover my?—”

I slam my palm over her parted lips, right as she lets out a scream. Her eyes widen and roll, and she sucks air through her nose as she releases cries of pleasure against my hand.

Meanwhile, I’m fighting a battle of my own. And I’m losing. Hearing, seeing, and feeling her come is too much, and I fill her. Even as the horses draw close enough that I can smell them, I push deep inside her and empty myself.

“You are so incredible, Cat. Pineapples don’t have shit on you.” I roll off of her and tuck myself away.

“Glad to know I have the fruit market cornered,” she says. “Now help me look presentable before the sleigh gets here.”

I sit up with a shit-eating grin and help her fix her hair. The sleigh pulls to a stop as we get to our feet.

“I take it you two had a nice evening?” the coachman says as I help Cat into the sleigh.

She gives me a sideways glance, then smirks. “You could say that.”

The coachman whistles when he spots the two bodies. “I guess those two didn’t.”

Cat looks out at the carnage. “No, they did not.” She looks at me and smiles. “But they had the evening they deserved.”

I take my seat beside Cat, and the driver urges the horses forward. Now if we can just get back into the mansion without any interference, this will be a perfect evening.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Cat

As the sleigh bumps over the ground, I glance at Bennett. Over the past few days, I’ve seen a side of him that he hides from most everyone. He’s been vulnerable. Kind. He’s taken care of me, and he went above and beyond to help me overcome hurdles and make my first kill. Hell, he’s asked if I’m warm enough three times since leaving the shooting range, and he even offered his coat. I had to remind him that the coat is his disguise.

That’s when the hurt flashed in his eyes.

“Maybe I’d better get out when we reach the barn,” he whispers in my ear. “If Kindra was watching the camera feeds, she’s probably waiting at the mansion’s front door.”

I want to tell him no, that we’ve hidden this long enough and I’m ready to come clean. But I can’t. The words stick in my chest, sawing and tearing through me as the dark horses break through the trees and the barn comes into view.

Bennett waits to see if I’ll argue and tell him no, come to the mansion. When I don’t, the hurt returns to his eyes. He leansforward. “Stop the sleigh here,” he says. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

The coachman nods and brings the horses to a stop just outside the barn. Bennett checks his pockets to ensure he remembered his knife—we left everything else back at the shooting range—then slides past me to exit the sleigh.

I reach up and grip his hand as he passes. “Thank you for everything. Seriously, B-Maverick.”

He winces, then hops down.

Why do I have to make everything worse?

As I settle back again, the coachman clucks at the horses, and the sleigh jerks forward. I glance behind me, expecting some wistfully romantic moment where Bennett is just standing there, watching as I ride away. Instead, what I see is just depressing as fuck. Trudging through the sleigh’s deep tracks, he looks so alone.

“Stop the sleigh!” I shout, and the coachman slows the horses.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

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