Killer Crush - Ella Goode Page 0,36

fumbles with his belt as he kisses the breath out of me. In one thrust he’s deep inside of me. I gasp as he growls into my mouth.

“I thought you wanted to taste me.” I nip at his bottom lip. He holds himself still, deep inside of me, and I know he’s fighting for control. He’s a big man but I was wet and ready for him. My body was made to take him.

My nails dig into his back. I wish we were both naked but this works for now. I have all the time in the world to make love to Daman. Right now is all about need and I need him.

“Babe.” I clench around his cock, my body telling him what I want.

“Move.” I bite down on his lip harder this time. He growls louder as he starts to pump in and out of me. My orgasm is already pushing down on me and I cling to him as I come. I try and hold back, but I was too close.

Being pinned between him and the wall is taking everything to a whole new level as he pumps in and out of me. The orgasm rolls through me as his warm release spills deep inside of me. I bury my face in his neck, trying to catch my breath.

“I’m not done.”

“I know,” I breathe out. We are far from done. We are just getting started. This is our beginning. A new and different life together. There is so much for me to show him and for him to show me. The world is ours for the taking and I know Daman will show me all of it. My back hits the soft mattress as Daman remains deep inside of me.

“I love you.” He brushes the hair out of my face, causing our eyes to lock.

“I love you, too.” I lift my head, my mouth meeting his. I kiss him with everything I have. I don’t care if he was a killer. All I care about is that he’s mine.

Epilogue

Daman

“That’d be a good spot to set up your kill shot.” I point to the Palantine Hill. “You’d have an unobstructed view of the Forum. The problem would be what kind of weapon to use. With the velocity and distance needed, an arrow might be your only choice.”

Trudy, my two-year-old, gnaws on my thumb in response.

“Yeah, we should poison that arrow just to be safe.”

“You two are having an intense discussion,” says Quinn. She comes to take a seat by us, adjusting her camera.

“Ah, we’re just discussing the landscape.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” my wife replies, not believing a word I’m saying. She fiddles with her camera and then leans back to take a picture of Trudy and me.

“Smile for your mama,” I say to my daughter.

She continues to chew on her thumb. Quinn takes the photo anyway.

“I’ve got more pictures of the top of her head than of her face,” she complains.

“She’s camera shy.”

“She’s stubborn.”

“No lies detected,” I admit. Trudy has a mind of her own, even at two. She does what she wants, when she wants. Right now, the pad of her thumb is the most interesting thing in the world and she’s unimpressed with the fact we’re sitting right outside one of the greatest architectural feats in the world.

Quinn takes a couple more pictures of us and then tucks her camera into the case by my foot. She leans back and points her face upward, looking every bit like a beautiful flower basking under the sun. We’ve been together for six years now. Since college, we’ve spent our time traveling. Quinn’s camera has taken photos of us hiking in the snowy Andes, swimming in the clear waters of the Maldives, walking along the path of gods overlooking the Amalfi Coast.

Along the way we had Trudy. Our friends expected us to settle down—or I should say Quinn’s friends. I’m still suspicious of everyone who wants to be near us. My past experience makes me leery of trusting people, particularly around Quinn, whose existence is what I get up for in the morning.

But Quinn loves traveling and I love Quinn. Trudy’s not hard, anyway. I tuck her in the carrier, stick a couple of diapers in a bag, and we’re good. Someday we’ll settle down. I’ll build a giant garden. Quinn will set up a language school. Trudy will terrorize the neighborhood boys. Until then, we’re nomads, traveling the world, eating local food, and enjoying the cocoon of love we’ve made for ourselves.

“So