Page 49 of Drowning Her

Holding the back of my neck, she kissed me gently, her pussy squeezing as she moved up and down. Both of us completely transfixed. Our mouths were hot, our skin chilled. I inched my fingers closer to her, aching to brush her glistening clit, and a sly smile crossed her face. She retreated slightly; she thought she had me locked into place. I held my jaw tight, and she put her soft hands around my throat.

“Not yet,” she whispered.

Everything inside of me was all about Maisie. The woman I should have never wanted. The woman who had somehow destroyed my sense of self. Who had made me hers. The air conditioning blasted against us. Maisie shivered, her pussy blazing. I wanted to wrap my arms around her back, to feel her body tremble against me. I held still, letting her fuck me, letting her take control, letting go of the one thing I thought I would never give up—but this time, I had surrendered without a fight. All for one taste of her. She knew the price of what I wanted, but she was so much more than I could anticipate. And there was more that I wanted to take from her.

Her pussy quivered around me as her breath caught in her throat. I growled. She smiled again, that devilish grin, knowing that she was torturing me. Giving me a first time that would make me explode.

“Not yet,” she said again.

Fuck that. I wanted her.

I swung my arms up, still restrained by the cuffs, twisting around her until my bound wrists cupped her ass, carrying her, then laid her down on the bed. Her mouth gaped open. Maisie wanted to please me. To do this for me. It might have been purely to get my father’s money, but those details didn’t matter. Because I wanted Maisie, and I trusted her.

She lifted her back, letting my arms pull free. With the cuffs still around my wrists, I climbed on top of the bed, mounting her, shoving my cock inside with a jagged thrust, the links between the cuffs pulled across her neck. She sucked in a breath, her muscles tensing, her body cold against me. Struggling for breath. She threw her head from side to side, wanting so badly to breathe, her face purple, her cunt sucking the life out of me. I bared my teeth, waiting for that exact moment when she couldn’t deny it anymore. When her pussy tried to crush me—in fear, in pain, in nervousness, in complete and utter destruction—I relaxed my hold, letting her breathe, then I fucked her, beating into her cervix. Her stifled moans filled my ears, but I didn’t stop. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t if I tried. Not until she was filled with me.

I rammed my hips forward, my elbows straining above her head, and I fucked her until tears ran down the sides of her face, the bruise from the cuff links faint on her neck. Sex didn’t interest me in the way it fueled others. But when it came to Maisie, she was mine, and I was going to take her exactly how I wanted. Her walnut brown eyes met mine, fullof pain and lust and respect and emotions I didn’t understand, but I knew Maisie felt them for me.Only me.And I felt them for her.

I came inside of her, letting myself rip through her, each pulse destroying me, knowing that I would never be the same. None of this was supposed to happen. But Maisie had conquered me.

I collapsed on the side of the bed next to her. She took a deep breath, her face red, sweat dripping down her face. The bed was soaked with us. We panted in the silence.

A shy smile came across her face. She pulled herself up, then inched off of the bed, peeling off the flannel shirt and finding the key on the windowsill. She unlocked my cuffs, and as soon as they were off, I pulled her into my arms. I wasn’t done yet, but I wanted to warm her right then.

“Let’s go to bed,” I said.

She clutched her stomach, then nodded.

Hours later, when we had finally fallen asleep, my phone rattled on the nightstand. A message had come in from the secure messaging app, which meant that it was my brother or father. Maisie stirred beside me. I buried my face in her neck. I could leave the message until the morning.

But that was never a good idea with my family.

I checked the message. It was from Forrest. Everything went still. I reread the message again, and again, making sure that I had read the words correctly, that there hadn’t been an error. But it made sense. I should have expected it from the beginning.

Your last kill,my father wrote,is Sawyer Feldman.

Chapter 18

Wilder

I should have been workingon my last kill for the Trial. But the next afternoon, Maisie said she might be gone for a few hours to check on Bambi. I made sure the GPS tracking device was operating in her car, then watched her drive away. A heaviness unrolled inside of me.

Something wasn’t quite right. I kept my eye on Sawyer, making sure he never went far without me. He usually spent his time in the city, but lately, he had spent far more time on the farm. But killing Sawyer wasn’t my priority right then, and Forrest rarely left the property these days. As long as they didn’t leave, Maisie would be safe. I continued with my day, checking the cow-calf pairs, tending to the chores, and checking the GPS every few hours. Nothing was out of place.

But in the evening, the lights in my house were still off. I checked the parking area; Maisie’s car was dripping condensation like she had just returned. Where was she?

I took the UTV for a quick lap around the pastures. Cows lowed. A rabbit scurried through thegrass. A new hunter mended the fence. But no Maisie. I headed to the Calving Barn. There were only a few more places she could go.

Forrest popped out of the barn’s office door.

“Still working?” he asked.

“Always,” I said.

“Come with me.”

I followed him through the pasture to the Dairy Barn, lit up like a lantern glowing in the night sky. Our footsteps shuffled against the grass blades.

I did a mental check: the gun was still in my holster, my knife sheathed in my pocket.

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