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I pump my fingers in and out of her drenched pussy. She grips the blanket, her toes curling in pleasure.
“Don’t stop,” she pleads breathlessly. “Please!”
“Only since you asked so nicely,” I tease, holding her hips in place as she quivers beneath my touch. She grinds against me in desperation, teetering on the edge of falling apart.
“Damon, fuck!” she chokes out, her climax ravaging her body as I continue to finger-fuck her. “I’m gonna come!”
The moment I add another digit, she gasps, her orgasm ripping through her. She pulls me closer to her with her legs, forcing me to keep eating her out. It takes her a minute to calm down, her breath coming in stuttered waves. I pull away, her wetness glistening on my lips. “You taste wonderful, Little Finch.”
She lets out a cute whimper, biting her lip at the use of her nickname. I can’t help but smirk. I give her one last lick before rising to give her a messy kiss. She reciprocates eagerly, tasting herself on my tongue. A low growl works its way from my throat, and it takes everything in me to not throw her down on the floor and fuck her until she can’t move.
“That was amazing,” she says, fatigue hitting her like a truck.
“It certainly was,” I say, cupping her face. “You look tired. Ready for bed?”
She nods. I help her dress before scooping her up in my arms, being careful not to mess with her stitches as I carry her to the bedroom. Once there, I lay her down, taking a moment to observe her as she nestles into the blankets. She looks so peaceful, so content. Warmth blooms in my chest at the sight.
“Goodnight, Gwen,” I murmur, planting a kiss on her forehead.
She smiles sleepily in response, snuggling further into the blankets with a satisfied sigh. I give her one last lingering look before turning off the light and quietly leaving her to rest.
I want to keep her forever.
Chapter
Thirty-One
HER
Ilift my uniform shirt to see the scar underneath.
I touch the raised skin, tracing it with my finger. It’s a reminder of that day—the day everything changed. I wince, recalling the white-hot sting of Damon’s knife piercing my skin. I’m fortunate it wasn’t deep. And I’mreallyfortunate I wasn’t conscious when he stitched me up.
For over a week, I was in a fog of painkillers while my body healed. During that time, Damon cleaned the apartment, including the blood stains. He also told me about his traumatic past and how he’d sewn his own flesh back together the night his brother was killed.
I consider myself lucky to be alive, for better or worse. He’s still by my side and has made it clear that he has no plans to leave me. Not now, not ever. I’m convinced that even if he dies, he’ll haunt me to the grave.
I adjust my ponytail in the mirror, tucking away a few loose strands. After washing and drying my hands, I leave the bathroom to find Zoey standing behind the counter, showing the new hire the ropes. I smile before joining them.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I ask, noting how Andy fidgets.
“Pretty good so far,” Zoey answers, tilting her head toward him. “Andy’s getting the hang of things. He’s a quick learner.”
Andy grins proudly, a bit of color rising to his cheeks. He’s young, barely out of high school. “I haven’t exactly done anything like this before. But Zoey has been an outstanding teacher. She makes things easy to understand.”
She offers him a gentle nod. “It’s not so hard when you have someone as motivated as you are. You’re doing great.”
Lately, Zoey has really stepped up. After the Fright Night Festival, Brian has had a revolving door of new employees. With Jen gone and Nick and I off mourning, Zoey has been training fresh faces and helping to pick up the slack around the store. I’m proud of her, though I can’t help but feel a pang of guilt.
Nothing has been the same since Jen’s been gone.
“Glad to hear it!” I say with more enthusiasm than I feel. “I’m gonna go check inventory and do some paperwork. Let me know if you guys need anything.”
I force a smile before going to the break room, my mind swimming with thoughts of my departed friend. I still don’t understand why Damon had to kill her. She wasn’t a bad person like many of the others. Totally against his MO. The guilt still eats at me. On some level, I still blame myself for it. But he is a killer, so why am I still in disbelief?
And Grace—goddamn it. He not only used her, but he also dated her. His recent admission to me about her keeps repeating in my mind. The icy tone in his voice as he confirmed my suspicions. She died because he considered her no longer valuable to him. All because he wanted to reach me, to have total access to my life.
WouldI kill like that—throwing people away like trash as if they’re nothing?
