Page 41 of Filthy Little Lies

I press the flat of my middle finger against her clit, rubbing it in circles, harder and harder, faster and faster, until she’s screaming out her release.

Her pussy clenches around me, dragging me straight into a tsunami of pleasure that blindsides me. She’s unraveling beneath me while I’m coming apart at the seams with her.

She collapses onto the couch with a huff, burying her face into her arms.

Slowly, I ease out of her, yanking up my pants at the same time. She drops her foot back to the floor, then climbs over the arm and curls into a ball.

I squat beside her, gently rubbing her back.

“Savvy?” I say quietly.

She stiffens, then turns her face so she’s peeking at me through the strands of hair covering her eyes.

“Are you all right? Did I hurt you too much?” Her throat is going to be sore tomorrow, and now the rest of her will be, too.

“I’m fine,” she says, the tenderness of her throat showing in her tone.

“No more lies. What hurts?”

She laughs, lifts her head a little. “Everything. But that’s not the problem.”

“What’s wrong, then?”

“I liked it.” She closes her eyes and turns her head again.

Hiding won’t do, but she obviously needs a moment to let her thoughts settle.

“And now you have another weapon to use against me,” she mutters into her arms.

Since she can’t see me, I smile while I continue rubbing her back.

“Let’s go to bed,” I say softly then roll her from the couch and into my arms, lifting her against my chest. Her arms wrap around my neck as I carry her through the sitting area and into the bedroom.

I lay her on the bed and remove my belt from around her throat. There’s a mark on the side, it will be there tomorrow.

The fact she will be wearing my mark for a day, maybe more, shouldn’t put such a thrill through me. But I already admitted I’m a monster.

“What are you doing?” She rolls to her side as I pull the covers back.

“I’m going to bed.”

“With me?” Her brow pulls tight.

“Where else would I sleep? Of course.”

“But it’s not that late, don’t you have things to do? Meetings, murder, that sort of thing?”

I shuck out of my clothes and slide into bed.

“I think the murders can wait until the morning.” Gliding my arm beneath her, I pull her into me until she rests her chin on my chest.

“Do you really own a billion-dollar company?” she asks, brushing hair from her eyes.

“No.” I pause a beat, tracing my finger down her nose. “I own a two-billion-dollar company.”

She tenses. “But you’re also, your family, I mean⁠—”

“Playing on both sides of the law keeps my family’s interests safe. The legitimate company gives me access to things right out in the open, those ties make it easier for the rest of my businesses to thrive.”