Page 116 of Violent Little Thing

What the hell would’ve happened to her had I not?

She’d convinced me to let her stay at home alone.

She had guns, sure.

But he’d popped up at the kitchen window when he’d seen her. All it would’ve taken was him coming through that glass, and he would’ve had her.

“Don’t overthink it,” Black said. “You were here. You killed him. And he won’t hurt your girl ever again.”

He was right.

I knew he was right.

But that didn’t change the horror that was my constant companion throughout the rest of the night.

When she woke at four, I was awake.

She rolled into me, just like she always did, but this time she didn’t stop until she was on top of me.

I gathered her into my arms and buried my face into her hair.

“What are you overthinking over here?” she mumbled sleepily. “I feel like you’re thinking too loud.”

I smiled. “I’m not being loud.”

“Your thoughts are pounding into me through some special brainwave we share. I woke up because of you,” she grumbled.

I shook my head. “You’re crazy.”

“Am not.” She pressed a kiss to my throat. “Would my vagina make you feel better?”

I thought about it. “It might.”

“Then put your penis inside of me.”

I snickered. “You’re probably not wet.”

“You’re nuts if you think I’m not wet just by being beside you. I may not have been awake when you brought me in here, but just being in your general vicinity is enough to get me going. Conscious or unconscious.”

I tested her readiness with my cock, slipping the head through her pussy lips.

She was right.

She was ready for me.

With one solid push, I filled her up.

She gasped against my throat. “Court…”

“You love me, baby?”

“Yes,” she said. “I love you with my whole heart and soul. Inside and out. Flaws, both real ones and make-believe. I love the way you wash your hair. I love the way you hate tomatoes. I love the way you smell. The way you…”

I made love to her.

For the first time.

I was able to hold on to my control, despite her insistence that we go faster and faster.