Page 81 of Bulletproof Love

“Oh… my… fucking… God,” Falin yells as she comes all over my face. I’ll never get enough of hearing her screaming in pleasure. Her pussy’s still pulsing as she climbs off on shaky legs, and straddles me.

“You don’t waste any time, do you, baby? Is that greedy cunt ready for my—oh fuck,” I groan as she seats herself all the way down, her pussy taking every inch like she’s made for me. She leans over and I pay extra attention to her nipple, nibbling it until she gasps. “You feel so good… so tight.”

“Yes… so deep.” She rolls her perfect hips, rocking, chasing her pleasure. I help her bounce, lifting her up and slamming her back down, arching my hips with each roll of hers. She leans over, sucking my lip, sliding her tongue in to massage mine. I’m so lost in her, I can barely breathe. “I want…” She kisses me while her pussy suffocates my cock. “I want you everywhere.”

“Whatever you want, whatever you need,” I groan. She shifts to the side, reaching for something in the drawer. I barely register the loss of her wet heat, before she’s squeezing lube all over my cock, pumping her fist to spread it along my shaft. “Baby, you’re so wet already.”

She straddles me again, holding onto my cock, and slowly guiding it into—holy fucking shit. My eyes roll back in my head as my cock notches her ass. As soon as I’m past that tight ring of muscle, she seats herself slowly, torturously… taking me so completely, I might die.

“Baby, holy fuck… You’re gonna kill me. That perfect ass… so fucking tight.” I wait until she’s comfortable, as difficult as it is, and when she rocks her hips, her eyes closed and mouth parted, I lose myself. Every little inch she moves is pure heaven. Her muscles clench around me, choking my cock, and I see stars.

“Come in me, Jasper.” She rides me deeper, taking every inch I give her. “Fill me until I’m dripping.”

“That’s my good little slut. So fucking filthy for me,” I pump into her, praying to every God I know that I get to keep this woman forever. “Rub your clit for me. Show me how you make yourself come.”

“Yes,” she cries as her fingers rub tight circles over her clit. I won’t last, there’s no way in hell.

“Shit… I’m gonna come.” That only makes her ride me harder. I inhale as everything in my body tightens. My eyes clench shut… or maybe I black out. I don’t fucking know anything past the pleasure that shoots through my entire body. My hands grip her hips as I drive my cock in balls deep, shooting every last drop of cum inside her. She takes it all, sucking me dry until there’s nothing left.

I pull her against my chest, kissing those beautiful lips, and whispering every praise I’ve ever known against her skin. “That was…” she says between heaving breaths.

“Intense,” I say. As soon as she shifts, her muscles push me out and a husky laugh leaves her lips. “I was so not expecting that.” I reach for the bottle of water on the side table, chugging some.

“What can I say, you’re not the only one who loves to get their ass fucked.” I choke, sputtering water all over her and the bed.

“Christ, you can’t say that while I have a drink in my mouth.” I swallow it down, wiping my mouth, unable to hide my laughter. “Like I said, you’re trying to kill me.”

She kisses my cheek, before she climbs out of bed, showing off her gorgeous curves. “I don’t see you complaining.”

“And you never will.”

She continues to surprise me every damn day. I’m the luckiest bastard alive.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

FALIN

Two days.I’ve been staring at this screen for two freaking days—my eyes fuzzy, butt imprinted into my rickety chair. At this point, the data blurs together, one massive line of numbers and letters. It’s the photos that I’ve been avoiding. I can’t bear to look at their faces. Not until I have something useful to help save them.

Empty Red Bull cans and half-eaten chip bags litter my desk, and I don’t even care. Leon, who came to camp in here with me a few hours ago probably feels differently, considering the raised brow glances he keeps giving toward my trash. Neat freak.

If he cares so much, he can clean it up. We’re in crisis mode here. I’m so close to cracking this, I can feel it in my bones. Between the flash drive, Brennan’s files, and the info Leon’s been able to drum up, there’s so much to cross reference, but every day we’re closer and closer to finding a concrete location for those victims on the flash drive.If they’re still able to be found.I push that thought far out of my mind.There’s no room for negativity, not when my brain is already close to shorting out.

“Look at this,” I say, pointing to a list on my screen. “These victim numbers seem random, but there’s something weird about how they’re documented.”

Leon leans over, squinting at my screen. “I’ve seen inventory systems before. It seems pretty standard.”

I huff, frustrated that he can’t see what I do. “But when we line up these ID numbers with Brennan’s container manifests, there’s a pattern in how they move people through the ports.”

He takes a few minutes to digest my words, his eyes darting between both our screens. “The container numbers aren’t random. They’re a victim count in each shipment.”

“That’s what I think too.”

He clicks through a few screens, biting his lip ring. “They’re tracking them like fucking cattle.” He sounds as disgusted as I feel.

I point to my screen. “And look here. Fairfax didn’t give us much, but this…” I scan the rows of money transfers, hundreds of thousands of dollars. “The transfers line up with the shipment dates.”

“You’re right,” he says, sitting back in his chair. “And there.” He points to the coded word at the end of each row. Some kind of shorthand system they used. Most of them repeating.

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