Page 45 of C is For Corruption (Horsemen #3)

“I’m not,” I said again, firmer this time. Craig’s smile was slow, crooked, just a little dangerous. And God help me, I wanted to taste it.

Craig stepped closer until I could feel his warmth, the solid heat of his body, and the subtle scent of sweat, steel, and blood that somehow didn’t repulse me. I knew that smell would stick to me if I let him touch me here. In this room. With two corpses cooling behind us.

“Victoria.” My name in his mouth wasn’t soft. “You need to get out of here.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You need to.” He was trying to be good. Better. Trying to do the right thing and draw that invisible line neither of us had crossed in a room like this before. But the part of me that had watched him work with rapt fascination, the part that wanted him, she stepped forward.

“I want to stay.”

He stared at me like he was trying to read between the lines. Then, very quietly, he said, “Not here. Later. When I’ve washed them off my skin.”

And somehow, that turned me on more.

The drive back was a blur. I couldn’t focus on the road or the dull hum of the tires against asphalt. My thoughts were too tangled in the memory of Craig’s hands, his voice, and the cold efficiency with which he’d delivered death. It felt like he could tear me apart with the same precision.

Whenever his fingers flexed on the steering wheel, I had to bite my lip to stop myself from making a sound.

I could barely control the heat building between my legs.

There was an urgent need to climb into his lap, crawl across the seat, and kiss him until I couldn’t breathe, think, or remember where he ended and I began.

When the car finally rolled into the driveway, I was a live wire, strung so tight I thought I might snap in half.

Craig didn’t make me wait. He was already out of the car before I could even open the door, and I followed him, my feet barely touching the ground as he pulled me behind him toward the house.

Az was already at the door to the office when we entered, arms crossed, eyes narrowed expectantly. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something but froze when he saw the way Craig was pulling me along behind him. Az stopped mid-sentence.

“I’ll debrief later,” Craig muttered, cutting him off before Az could finish his thought. “Tomorrow. I don’t care.” Az blinked, clearly annoyed but not willing to argue. He probably had a thousand questions, but it didn’t matter. Craig had spoken.

From somewhere inside the office, I heard Leighton’s loud and playful voice. “It’s not fair, you know. I take her out hunting, and you get to reap the benefits. What kind of deal is that?” I felt my cheeks flush, though I wasn’t sure why, maybe because the words made everything feel more real.

Craig didn’t respond; he just pulled me along with him, his fingers curling around mine as he led me upstairs to the bathroom. The soft thud of our boots on the stairs seemed deafening in the otherwise quiet house. My skin was still humming, my body aching in a way I didn’t want to ignore.

Craig didn’t even look at me as he yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it aside like it was nothing.

His chest was smooth and sculpted, decorated in intricate tattoos now marred with the thick scars left behind by the hack job done on him while under the care of Mel’s apprentice.

But it wasn’t the lines or the muscle that made him so goddamn irresistible.

It was how he held himself, how he made everything feel purposeful.

He yanked at the button of his pants, and I was still too stunned to move until he was pulling me toward him, hands impatient. Everything felt raw, urgent.

“Craig,” I whispered, feeling the tremor in my voice, the need lacing through me.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed me hard, his lips crashing into mine like he couldn’t wait a second longer.

His tongue tangled with mine, deep and demanding, and my hands fumbled to get his pants off as quickly as I could.

He pulled me closer, pushing me up against the sink, his hips pressing into me with a need that mirrored mine.

He wasn’t patient this time. His hands were everywhere, grabbing at me, pulling me in tight like he couldn’t get enough.

He tore away my clothes with the same urgency like they were a barrier between us that didn’t even exist. The water in the shower was running—when had that happened?

—steam billowing in thick clouds as he all but dragged me into the stall with him.

His mouth never left mine as he pressed me against the wall, the heat from his body seeping into me.

The water hit our skin like a violent, scorching wave, but neither of us cared.

It paled in comparison to the heat between us.

The sensation of his lips on mine sent a shock of electricity straight through my chest and down my spine.

I couldn’t think anymore. My body had already given in to the chaos, the fire he sparked in me every single time he touched me.

But it wasn’t enough, not yet. I needed more.

His hands moved lower, sweeping across the curve of my hips, pulling me flush against him.

His cock was hard and thick as it pressed against my stomach, and I knew there was no turning back.

Craig was here now , and I wasn’t going to pretend I didn’t want this.

His lips left mine only to move down my throat, kissing, biting, marking me with something primal, something that said I was his.

He wanted me, needed me in a way that left me dizzy with desire.

I didn’t care anymore if he was the monster in that warehouse or the man I’d fallen for.

At that moment, there was no distance. No control.

Just the wild, searing thing between us that had been building all night.

One of his hands gripped my thigh, lifting it until my leg wrapped around his waist, and then the other followed.

He held me up easily, which must have been from adrenaline since he wasn’t all the way healed, but it still made my breath catch.

His cock nudged at my entrance, thick and demanding.

Then he drove into me in one powerful thrust. My gasp broke into a cry, swallowed quickly as his hand came up and clamped over my mouth.

“Shh,” he breathed, voice hot and ragged against my ear. “You’ll wake the whole house, Bunny.”

I couldn’t help it. The feel of Craig inside me, stretching me, claiming me… it was almost too much. I bit down on the edge of his palm, not hard, just enough to ground myself while he started to move, every thrust hitting so deep I saw stars.

The rhythm was brutal at first, fast and relentless, like he was chasing away everything that had built between us. The warehouse. The blood. The silence in the car. Each thrust drove us further from it, replaced with something just as raw and alive .

I held onto his shoulders, nails digging into the muscle there, my back scraping slightly against the tile with every thrust. The water poured over us, hot enough to sting, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the man in front of me, inside me.

And then… he slowed. The change was subtle. Intentional. His pace shifted, deep and deliberate, hips rolling into mine with a devastating precision that made my toes curl. His hand slid from my mouth to cradle the back of my head, pulling my forehead to his, our breaths mingling.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Take it, baby. Just like that. You feel so fucking good…"

A sound slipped from my throat, needy and broken. He kissed me, slow and deep, all tongue and heat. His words wrapped around me, warm and possessive, as he rocked into me again and again.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “I love the way you fall apart for me. The way you take what I give you. Every fucking inch.”

His hand moved between us, thumb finding my clit, rubbing slow, tight circles that sent sparks bursting behind my eyes.

I was unraveling, the pressure in my core coiling tighter with every stroke, every thrust. He kissed the corner of my mouth, then my jaw, then dragged his tongue along the shell of my ear.

“I love you, Victoria,” he said, voice raw now, the words catching. “All of you. Even the sharp, broken pieces. Especially those.”

That was it. My body snapped like a bowstring, my climax crashing into me so hard it stole the breath from my lungs.

I cried out Craig’s name, hands clutching at him like I might fall apart entirely if I let go.

My legs trembled around him, my entire body shaking as the pleasure rolled over me in wave after relentless wave.

But Craig didn’t stop. His rhythm picked up again, harder now, chasing his release as he buried his face in my neck. I could feel him losing control, his breath hot and ragged, fingers bruising into my hips as he drove into me one last time and stilled, buried deep.

He groaned my name like a prayer, his whole body going taut before shuddering with his release.

For a long, suspended moment, we clung to each other—his weight pressed against me, the water still pounding down, our hearts trying to slow down.

He didn’t pull away right away. He just held me there, his forehead against mine, eyes closed.

Like I was the only thing anchoring him.

Eventually, his breathing slowed, his body relaxing just enough for the tension to bleed out of his shoulders.

Then he eased back with a soft, reluctant sound, and I felt the slow, careful drag of him pulling out before he finally set me down.

My legs wobbled when they touched the floor, and his hands held me steady as he chuckled low in his throat.

“Jesus,” I muttered, blinking up at him as I tried to catch my breath.

That earned a full grin, and for the first time since the warehouse, I saw him again. Not the mobster or the torturer. Just Craig. The man who knew how to put me back together no matter what had me shattering apart.

“Stay still,” he said, voice softer now, almost fond. “Tilt your head back.”

I did, closing my eyes as his fingers threaded into my hair, gentle now as he reached for the shampoo.

There was something sacred in the way he touched me then, like he was washing away the violence, the blood, the part of himself he never wanted me to carry when I left his arms. Warm water cascaded over my scalp, his fingertips massaging slowly, lovingly.

“You’re not allowed to be this good at this,” I whispered.

Craig leaned close, lips brushing my temple. “Too late, Bunny.”