Page 70 of Like a Hurricane

With the jacket and sweater hanging from her shoulders, I take the knife to the center of her bra, pulling it away from her skin before a quick tug slices it.

She cries out, the loudness of it startling the birds to take flight as my mouth latches onto one peaked nipple, sucking the hardened bud and teasing with my teeth.

With my tongue flicking lazily against her breast, I gently rub a finger against her pussy, above the material which is drenched thoroughly from her need for me. She would drive me damn crazy.

“Don’t stop, please,” She begs as I keep working her up, not that she needed much from me. She was so ready for me, but winding her up like this gave me so much satisfaction, there was no way I was stopping until she came for me like this.

Dropping to my knees, I push the panties to the side and grab the back of her knee, opening her up. She falls harder against the tree now that she’s unbalanced, but I don’t give her a chance, I bury myself into her cunt, tasting just how fucking hot she is for me.

Chuckling, I come away and look up at her, keeping my rhythm with a finger, “You want more, my little storm?”

“Please,” she begs, pleading with her eyes for me to continue. She’s so close, it wouldn’t take much, “It aches, Rett. Make it stop.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” I promise, thrusting two fingers into her. Her leg jerks over my shoulder and then tense when I bring my mouth back to her hot center, flicking my tongue on her swollen clit as my hand pumps into her body. Gripping my hair, she detonates against me, pussy clamping around my fingers as I continue to lick and suck her into my mouth.

“Too much,” She gasps.

“Not enough,” I argue.

I make quick work of my pants, tugging them down along with my boxers and do the same to her panties before I force her to turn again. I push her forward, making her bend as I line myself up with her, pussy still dripping, her inner thighs soaked.

I thrust hard, burying myself inside of her with a loud grunt. “Oh shit,” She cries.

“So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Good.” My fingers bite into her flesh as I pound into her from behind, the sound of our skin slapping together obscenely loud in the quiet woods. She pushes back with every thrust of my hips, taking and giving, her flesh turning red from the punishing grip I have on her. She’ll be wearing my finger marks on her pretty body, remembering how I owned her.

I fuck her hard, needing her to feel me, feel us, hammering into her so she knows there is only ever going to be us.

“I’m going to come,” She whimpers, my cock sawing in and out of her body, covered in her wetness.

I groan, watching myself before the tell-tale zap of pleasure shoots down my spine. My hips turn jerky, slower as I wring the pleasure out of both of us, but I don’t stand a chance when I feel her begin to contract around me, her pussy squeezing me like a vice.

I come so damn hard, stars burst behind my eyes. I empty myself inside of her, fingers holding her to me while I fill her up.

“God damn, princess,” I kiss her spine before pulling out of her, watching as I leak from her cunt and down her inner thigh, “So fucking perfect and so fuckingmine.”

Chapter Thirty-four

Iget Arryn back to the cabin, she’s cold, tired and hungry but that damn smile hasn’t left her face.

Mine either.

Because damn, if I didn’t want to do that again.

She cleans up in the bathroom while I get a fire started to heat this place back up and when she comes back out, I pile a shit ton of blankets on her to keep her warm until the flames can do the job.

I’m skirting around the issue now, though. We had to figure out a way of staging her death and making it as real as possible and I hated it. No matter how many distractions I allow myself, how many times I tell myself her death is not a reality, it fills me with so much dread, it cripples me.

Because that line is so very thin.

What if something goes wrong?

Claiming the job was already suspicious since I was working with her father only weeks before but to take Arryn too? I had to hope my reputation was enough to keep the questions away. I was brutal or so people believed, had no loyalty nor morals, which is exactly how I wanted people to see me.

No emotional connections, no ties, just a cold-hearted killer. It meant people couldn’t use me. Couldn’t use those I cared about against me.

My brothers were different since they were in the same profession, and no one was dumb enough to go after the best in the business, but I’d done a lot to make sure I didn’t get attached to people.

Until Arryn.

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