Page 29 of The FBI Agents Who Stole Me

“That’s right. Say my name like that again. You’re going to whisper it, scream it, even beg with my name on your lips.”

“Elliot, no one can know about this.”

“No,” I say nipping at her shoulder. “They can’t. Which means you’re gonna keep that pretty mouth shut, or I’ll fill it with my cock. You’re gonna walk into the briefing looking like the same ice-cold detective, barking orders at everyone and running the show. But every time you catch me staring, or our hands brush, you’ll think of how good I fill you.”

She cries louder now, pushing back to meet my thrusts.

“Tell me. Tell me you’ll let me use you whenever I want, however I want, and you’ll smile and nod and play the part at work like nothing’s changed.”

“Fuck—Elliot. Just… don’t stop. Please.”

I reward her with a hard snap of my hips that makes her whole body jolt.

“Good girl.” I push my hand between her shoulder blades to remind her I own her when she’s beneath me.

She’s really good at being my little fuck toy. She comes with a choked sob, body seizing, milking me so hard I can barely keep the rhythm.

“God damn, you are squeezing the fucking life out of me,” I grit out.

Then I’m spilling inside her once more.

I collapse over her. We’re both winded and slick with sweat.

Her pretty eyes stare at me. Unsure.

She fucking should be. I’m going to be the reason she spends the rest of her life in an orange suit locked away from everything.

After a long minute, I kiss her lips.

“Go back to sleep. I know your head’s killing you.”

She sighs and closes her eyes before muttering a “Yes, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

CHAPTER 8

Lee

It’s been three days. Each one bleeds into the next.

Julian cooks meals I barely touch and leaves coffee outside my door every morning exactly the way I like it. Then he tries to get me to talk. I shut him down, still a little pissed about everything.

But fury is hard to hold when fear keeps gnawing holes through it.

What does Elliot know? Did I cover Marge and the guys’ tracks well enough? Is the warrant about Georgie’s ex? It’s one thing for me to go down, but I can’t take them with me.

I really thought I could trust him.

I’m pacing again. The cabin is too small for proper pacing, so after six tight passes between the bed and the window, I end up in the kitchen.

Julian is there. His broad shoulders are bent over the cutting board. His sleeves are rolled to his forearms as he methodically chops vegetables.

Everything he does is always so perfect.

I can’t imagine what he must think of me. A stupid idiot who thought she could go up against the big guys and come out on top.

I lean against the counter across from him and watch for a moment longer than I should.