Page 59 of A Lethal Game of Trust

“She listened enough to send her location in the first place,” I told him, closing my eyes and wrapping an arm around his stomach, pushing myself further into him.

My head on his chest, he bent to kiss my hair. “And his driver’s licence.”

“Exactly,” I said.

“Did you look at the driver’s licence?”

I shook my head, enjoying my skin against his.

“Maybe you should have.”

Of course he had. The moment he threatened he would get Rocco to find her, I knew he wasn’t playing. I didn’t doubt he’d already sent the poor guy’s picture to his hackers to find out every last detail about him. That was probably how he found out Jared’s address that first time.

I rose and he lifted the phone to my eyeline. It was only a picture of the guy I’d spoken to at the bar for half an hour.

“What a cow,” I laughed and flopped back onto him.

But I felt his gaze on me. “You exchanged numbers. You must have liked him.”

I only shrugged. I didn’t.

He pulled me closer to him. “Next time, don’t try and make me jealous. Especially when drunk. I was going to tear off his fingers.”

“Because they touched me?” I asked, hooking my leg over his body. Cuddling into him, I could quite happily fall back asleep again.

“Do not give me that visual,” he grumbled. “Only my fingers will touch you.”

They did as he spoke, dragging them down my chest, between my breasts, running from one hip to the other.

My phone buzzed in his other hand. We both looked at it.

DEREK: Firdman’s hearing is in four months. Less time than we hoped. Write an impact statement and send it over to me when you can.

Dom didn’t say anything but I sighed deeply. “That’s going to be fun to write.”

“He’s the best person to help you though,” he said. “If anyone will get him to rot in there, it’s him.”

Derek wouldn’t rest until Firdman remained behind bars. Or was dead.

“Let me do something,” he begged. “Let him out and I’ll kill him, Leonie. I won’t give him an hour of freedom.”

I shook my head. “I told you, if anyone kills him, it’s me. I don’t… let’s not talk about it.”

Old Dom had always been protective, on the same par as my father. My heart beat faster. This wasn’t keeping things uncomplicated… this was pillow talk. Belov style.

“Want a distraction?” he murmured against my temple as his fingers travelled down past my hips. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“A little sore,” I understated, wriggling closer to him.

He ran a single, light finger down my core, parting me. No matter how sensitive I was, his touch still made me feel alive.

“Mm, let me help with that,” he said and gently rubbed against my clit. “Let me kiss it better.”

God, I didn’t know if I could let him. But as he climbed down my body, pressing small kisses into my skin, I couldn’t stop him. I didn’t want to.

His tongue swirled against my clit, slow, soft, fucking sweet.

“I don’t—” I started as he pulled me down into his mouth. “I don’t know if I can—”