Page 22 of The Dead Don’t Scream

“How much more?”

“Make it five.”

Fucking perfect. I lift her dress slowly, giving her every opportunity to object. Rhys stole her underwear. Of course he did. Sloane watches my attention drop. Pussy glistening in the light, fucking beautiful.

“He kept them.”

“Greedy bastard.”

“That’s what you called him.”

Her eyes narrow.

“You heard that?”

“We were on the roof.”

A laugh escapes her. I drag my palm over the bare curve of her ass.

“Something funny?”

“You were all spying.”

“We were supervising.”

“You were being perverts.”

I strike her ass again. She moans. Oh , what a beautiful fucking sound. The sound replaces every intelligent thought in my head with one brutally simple demand.

Again.

I give her another. Then another. Alternating sides. Never hard enough to cross the limit she chose. Just enough to leave her skin warm and pink beneath my hand. Watching the prickles light up with desire. The final blow makes her thighs clench.

“Look at yourself,” I order.

Her gaze rises to the mirror.

“That’s the woman who walked into our maze and asked three monsters to ruin her.”

Her lips part. I gather her hair and wrap it around my fist.

“Tell her what you want.”

“You’re the one touching me.”

“I already know what I want.”

“What?”

“You shaking beneath my mouth.”

Her entire body responds. I see it. She sees me noticing. Sloane tries to push herself upright. I keep her bent over the counter.

“Where are you going?”

“You talk too much.”

“I haven’t even started.”