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“Yeah, just like that, Dolcezza,” I snarl, my hips pounding against her face. Her eyes roll back, but she keeps taking me, swallowing every inch, milking me until I’m right on the brink.

The rush hits me hard. My grip tightens in her hair, and I let go, spilling into her mouth with a guttural groan. She swallows every drop, not wasting a single bit. My greedy, perfect girl sucks me clean like she needs more of me.

My chest heaves as I look down at her, messy hair, swollen lips, and eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

“Fuck,” I breathe, running my thumb along her jaw. “You really are my best fucking addiction.”

37

Alessio

What started as a punishment ended with mySirenabeneath me, screaming my name while I fucked the soul out of her, riding that line between pleasure and wreckage until she nearly blacked out. Most women would’ve broken, but Liv screamed for more. Her body gave out first, limp and shaking under me, but her mouth didn’t quit until I made damn sure she had nothing left to give.

Afterward, I scoop her up in my arms, her skin is burning hot against mine, and carry her to the bath so she can soak her ass, that’s still sporting the red imprint of my name on both cheeks. I could stare at these marks for hours. And hell, I just might later.

Liv curls into me as we lay in my bed, with her head on my chest, fingers gripping the band of my boxer briefs like I might up and vanish if she lets go. My hand moves through her hair withoutthinking, smoothing out the tangles I made when I had her pinned under me, yanking on her red curls while she begged for more. My girl’s got a mouth on her—smart, sassy but damn if she doesn’t know how to use it.

Her breathing slows as she snuggles closer, throwing a leg over mine. Her body softens against me, and when I think she’s out cold, she slurs, “I love you.”

Cue my entire fucking system short-circuiting.

My lungs forget how to do their one job, and every muscle in my body goes rigid as those three words sink their claws into me.

She loves me.

My heart pounds hard enough to shake the fucking bed, thudding like it’s trying to punch through my ribcage. Meanwhile, she’s settled against me like she didn’t just turn everything upside down. Like she didn’t just drop a damn bomb and close her eyes like it’s no big deal.

I shouldsay it back. I should pull her closer. Remind her she’s mine, and that she’s been mine since I dragged her into my world, whether she likes it or not. But I don’t. My tongue suddenly doesn’t know how to string three fucking words together. Marriage was one thing, an arrangement to keep her alive, but now it’s real. Andanything that’s real can be torn away and ripped apart until there’s nothing left but scars and regrets.

I’ve lived that. I know how it ends.

So, I stare at the ceiling, fingers still threading through her hair like nothing’s changed. Maybe she dreamed it. Hell, maybe she won’t remember this in the morning. At least that’s what I tell myself. It feels easier than dealing with what those words are stirring up, emotions and shit.

The thought barely settles before my phone vibrates on the nightstand, pulling me out of this spiral and dragging my ass back to the shit that needs my attention.

Carefully, I shift out from under her, moving slow enough not to wake her. Liv murmurs something, and her brow twitches like she’s searching for me in her sleep. It’s almost cute if my heart wasn’t ready to come out of my fucking chest. I wait until her breathing evens out again before grabbing my phone.

Seb: Found something on those names from Kota.

I slip into the hallway, open the message, and start reading. And just like that, it feels like I was kicked in the fucking nuts.

Seb: Leah Johnson was working as an informant with a man named Philip Clover. No details on what she was handing over, but it’s not good. After that, she went off the grid for a bit, and then a missing persons report wasfiled for Leah and her husband, Richie. The daughter’s name isn’t listed anywhere; someone deliberately wiped the record. Whoever it was, they left the case open to make it look like there’s hope.

Well, this is fucking fantastic. It just keeps getting better. This isn’t some quick cover-up. Whoever did this knew how to clean up a mess without leaving crumbs. But it still doesn’t make sense.

Me:Why the fuck would they leave it open?

Seb’s response comes fast.

Seb:Close the case, and people stop looking. Keep it open, and everyone holds onto hope. Smart play. It gives the impression that they’re still out there somewhere. Whoever did this was good. They covered all their tracks.

Yeah. Real considerate of them.

Another buzz follows, and the words staring back at me hit harder than they fucking should.

Seb: Pulled the last number Franco texted. I can’t see the message, but it’s a burner. Liv’s got it saved in her phone.

My grip tightens around the phone until my knuckles crack, or maybe it’s the phone breaking. A fucking informant. Liv’s mom was working with the police, a fucking rat. That alone is a shitstorm, but the missingparts of the file, they erased records. None of this shit sits right with me.