Page 95 of Temptation
A moan tore from her. The delicate gold chain circled around her neck. The lily pressed to the base of her throat.
His grip remained on her waist. When his cock filled her—all the fucking way again—she tipped back her head. And tightened her inner muscles around him.
Yes, yes, yes.
Her eyes had closed. She opened them. “I love the way you feel…inside of me.”
He lifted her up. Hauled her back down. Faster now. Harder.
One hand snaked from her hips to her clit. He rubbed her. Up and down. Strong glides of his fingers even as his hips bucked against her. Even as he thrust into her. Even as the bed seemed to rock beneath him.
Preston stopped holding back.
She arched against him. Her heaving hips met his. They surged together as the lust grew even stronger inside of him. Faster. Harder. Consuming.
“Preston!”
She was squeezing him, climaxing, and he tumbled her back onto the covers. He grabbed her legs. Lifted them over his shoulders. Plunged deep. Took.
Came.
He bellowed her name. His hands yanked at the sheet near Sloane as his hips ground against her. He emptied out, but even as he was sucking in a deep breath, Preston knew it would not be enough.
He would want her again. And again. And again.
The hunger that he felt for her seemed endless. Welling up inside of him. Blocking out everything else.
“What am I going to do with you?” Gruff words that he hadn’t meant to speak.
Her lashes lifted. Her breathing was still fast. Hard. Uneven. Just like his. “You could…you could keep fucking me like that. That would work for me.”
That would definitely work for him, too. His hand slid over her body. In this room, in this bed, they were safe. No one could get to her. No one could hurt her. No one could take her from him.
No one will ever take her from me.
In this room…
But they couldn’t stay hidden in his bedroom forever. A killer waited beyond his home. Someone that he had to stop.
Someone Preston fully intended to kill.
Sloane might think they were going to lock the guy in a cell. No. Not happening. Preston intended to bury the bastard in the ground.
Six feet under.
Chapter Twenty-Two
She woke to darkness. Total darkness. The kind of darkness that was so deep, you weren’t even sure that you were actually awake.
But Debra blinked her eyes. She squinted. She darted her gaze to the left. Then to the right.
Awake. I am awake.
Just enclosed in the dark.
She grew aware of her surroundings slowly. The hard surface beneath her body. Hard and flat. Her hands flew out and slammed into another hard surface—this time on either side of her body.
Hard below me. Hard beside me.
