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My clit thumps and the vibrations powering through me reach my neck.

With a roar, Griffin comes, spilling down my throat.

“Fuck, yeah. Swallow my cum like a good wife.” He buries himself deeper. There’s so much cum that it gurgles back out of my mouth and down my chin.

What a mess. But damn, it’s hot.

He loosens the belt again, and I suck an icy breath into my burning, deprived lungs.

Griffin puts his cock away and lifts me. “Wrap those legs around me.”

I’m wearing leggings so it’s easy.

“Kiss me. Share what I did to you.”

We kiss, and our juices mix together. The world falls away, and we’ve made yet one more connection that will be hard to deny when it’s time to say goodbye as we’ve promised ourselves.

But like that damn belt he’s using to choke me, one more hole is breached, and I’m fastened tighter to him.

“Griff?” a voice with a deep Irish lilt, stronger than his, sounds out behind him.

Griffin spins us around. “Trace, take care of this, will ya?”

“Dead?” his towering enforcer, dressed all in black, asks.

“Quite,” Griffin answers.

“You, or you?” Trace points to each of us with amusement like he’d have no issue if it was me.

“Me,” Griffin admits.

“I was on my way to kill him. He stole my glory,” I pout.

“I ran a check on this guy when you sent me his prints. He’s got a rap sheet and a few warrants for DV in other states.” Trace looks up. “Good work. Both of you.”

But Griffin is kissing me again and doesn’t accept the praise.

Trace barks a laugh. “You two are sure getting along for a couple who tried to kill each other not too long ago.”

Griffin puts me down and tucks me further against him. Strutting past his enforcer, he says, “We’ve bonded over the mutual desire to murder each other.”