Page 71 of Life Or Death

“Please,” she begs. She’s still rocking over me, her movements slow and deliberate.

Fucking torture.

Then she takes my right hand and lifts it, pressing my palm flat against her breast. My fingers curl around her on instinct, and she lets out a soft moan as I circle her nipple with my thumb.

“I saw that redhead hanging all over you,” she says, her voice dropping low. “She had her bare tits pressed against you.”

Fucking Ginger.

“I didn’t like it,” she admits, her hips grinding down harder. “You fucked her.”

I don’t deny it. “Yeah,” I grit out. “I did.”

I should tell her that it was a long time ago, and that it didn’t matter. That all I think about is her and she’s the only one I want to fuck for the rest of my life, but that would force me to admit something I’m not ready to.

“I hate her.” Her eyes lock on mine, and there’s something raw and furious in them that makes my chest ache. “I don’t know her, but I hate her because she knows what it’s like to fuck my husband and I don’t. She knows what you like, and I don’t.” Her voice cracks. “She’s seen you come apart, and I haven’t. Do you think that’s fair?”

She brings my other hand to her other breast, and I squeeze, rolling her nipple between my fingers. She gasps, her back arching, and her hands drop to my jeans. Her fingers work the button, then the zipper, and she tugs them down just enough to free me.

“Answer me, Lucifer. Do you think it’s fair that every woman at that party knows how it feels to have your hands on them, and your cock inside of them, but I don’t?”

My jaw locks, and my fingers tighten around her tits. She’s testing me, pushing every button I have, and she fucking knows it. But then she opens her mouth again, and what comes out makes me see red.

“How would you like it if every one of your brothers knew how it felt to fuck me but you didn’t?”

Something inside me snaps.

I pinch her nipples hard, twisting them between my fingers until her eyes water. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

She shakes her head, her hips still grinding against my cock, her pussy leaving a slick trail of her arousal across my shaft. “No,” she breathes, her voice steady even as her nipples are turning red under my grip. “Not until you give me what I want.”

Her hands slide up under my shirt, her nails dragging across my abs, my chest, her palms hot and desperate against my skin. She’s trying to push the fabric up, but she can’t get it past my shoulders with the way I’m positioned.

I release her nipples and sit up, and she takes the opportunity to grab the hem of my shirt and yank it over my head.

Her hands are everywhere—palms flat against my chest, fingers tracing every tattoo, nails dragging down my stomach. She leans in and her teeth scrape along my collarbone, and I hiss through my teeth.

“Fucking hell.”

“Just once, Lucifer,” she whispers against my skin, her mouth trailing lower, her tongue flicking across my neck. She shifts her hips, dragging her bare pussy along the length of my cock, coating me in her wetness. The sensation is so fucking good my vision blurs. “Then we can go back to pretending this isn’t real. That we’re just two bodies joined by forgery and nothing more.”

That does it.

My hand fists in her hair, and I yank her head back, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes are glazed, and she’s panting like I’ve already fucked the life out of her. I roll us both, flipping her onto her back so fast the mattress squeaks beneath us.

“Shut up,” I growl.

I slide down her body, my mouth trailing fire across her sternum, between her breasts, over the ridges of her ribs. When I reach her stomach, I press my lips to the skin just above her hip bone, where the donor site is, and I feel her shudder beneath me.

Then I hook my hands behind her knees and push her thighs apart. The smell of her hits me—sweet and musky—and my cock throbs so hard it hurts. I lower my mouth to her cunt and drag my tongue through her folds in one long, slow stroke.

She cries out, her back arching off the bed, her hands flying to my hair. “Oh, fuck⁠—”

I grab her hips and pin her down, my tongue circling her clit, and she writhes beneath me, her thighs trembling against my ears. I suck the swollen bud between my lips and flick my tongue against it, and she makes a sound that I’m going to hear in my fucking dreams for the rest of my life.

Her hands fly to my hair, fisting the strands as I continue to lap at her with broad, flat strokes, and then I push two fingers inside her. She’s so fucking tight and wet.

“Is this what you fucking wanted?”