Page 64 of How to Kill Your Rival

‘I’ve thought about this moment,’ he says, lips grazing my jaw, ‘every single time you decided I wasn’t worth the risk.’

‘Who says you’re worth the risk?’ I tease, hitching my leg against his waist.

The way his chest rumbles as he laughs is delicious, and then his hand moves and I stop being clever. I can barely even think straight, far less form any more quips.

The sheer recklessness of being fingered where we could so easily be caught has me trembling. I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck and pull his mouth back to mine, swallowing every dirty little noise he makes.

‘Tell me to stop if it’s too much,’ he says against my lips.

‘Don’t you dare stop. In fact, give me more. I want you inside me.’

‘Patience,’ he moans, working his fingers deeper, alternating between circling my clit and filling me up. It doesn’t take long before I’m acting like I’m in heat. ‘I’ve thought about this with you so many times.’

‘About fingering me in my dad’s library?’

James leans forward and nips my throat with his teeth, making me melt. ‘No, and you finally being mine.’

‘I said that you’re mine, I didn’t say⁠—’

James lifts his wet fingers and pins me back to the shelf by my throat. ‘Stop the bullshit, Eliza. You’re fucking mine. From this day until my final days. I’m never letting you go.’

‘So fuck me already. I need you.’ I sound pathetic, but I don’t care. I need his dick like a fish needs the water. Like I might actually perish without its silver-tipped goodness.

He obeys. Like a good boy. Unbuckling his belt and unleashing himself before inching slowly into me. The girth makes me quake and he keeps his hand on my throat, watching my face as I stretch around him.

Until he fucks me like a bad boy.

The way he scoops his hips eradicates whatever brain cells I have left. I bite down on my lip hard enough to taste metal while digging my nails into his shoulders.

‘Fuck,’ I breathe through the heat of knowing deep down that falling for James was always inevitable. His wit, his humour, the perfection in his kills. The tenderness in hands that also wreak so much death. Years of knowing this was going to happen, collapsing into now, into one dark library. Into James.

‘You were jealous.’ He groans the words while thrusting so hard, the books behind me shift.

‘James—’

‘Say it.’ He arches his hips again, deliberate and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to torture me with. ‘You saw her touch my face, and you couldn’t stand it. Admit it.’

‘I’m not—’ I shudder as pleasure curls through me. ‘I’m not saying it.’

‘Oh Eliza, yes, you are, my darling,’ he says. His hand finds my jaw and tips my face up, making me look at him. His eyes are very grey, and his hair is a disaster, and his cock grinds so slowly that I can barely breathe. The way he looks at me has my stomach clenching. ‘You told her I was yours. Say it to me.’

He punctuates each word with a thrust; the wall digs into my back, and pleasure pulses between my thighs.

‘I was jealous,’ I say through my teeth.

The pure delight on his face makes my knees weak.

‘And,’ he pushes. ‘Say it.’

‘Make me,’ I taunt.

James wraps a hand back around my throat and tightens enough to make me squeak.

‘And…’ he says again.

‘And you’re⁠—’

He stills his hips so that his cock nudges my entrance, but gives me no more of it.