Page 46 of Executing Malice

Never slowing.

Never letting up.

I’m screaming and pleading. My legs kick wildly, trying to squeeze his fingers between them but he makes me climax again.

“You’re mine. Fucking mine.” He pins my thrashing hips. “Not even God can have you.”

I feel the hot spray of his cum hit my walls. It burns, flooding my twitching body. Filling my core.

His grunt seizes my channel. It drips with pride and satisfaction as he claims me. Marks me with his seed.

His finger stays on my clit. His cock head wedged in my hole, corking me.

I’ve never been so content.

“I’m taking you home after work,” he murmurs into the back of my neck. “I want you on my bike.”

I should argue. I need my car for the morning, but the sharp jingle of the front door has me scrambling back to reality.

CHAPTER TEN

LEILA

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“Stay here,” I snap at him as I hurriedly brush a hand down my skirt and over my hair.

He doesn’t say anything, nor does he stop me when I locate the thin, gold thread of light outlining a rectangle in the far wall. I’m praying I don’t smell like sex and sweat as I sprint to greet the client.

I plaster on my mandatory smile and slip out, careful not to open the door too wide.

Three faces smile back as I rush to my kiosk and get to work with my channel sore and my clit tender. Sitting is definitely a challenge, but I manage not to wiggle too much as I help the last person and watch them pass over the threshold.

Only when the door has closed behind them and no one else comes in do I jump to my feet and hurry to release the crazy man in the staffroom.

It does dawn on me for a flicker of a second that this could have been his motives from the beginning; get me hooked on him and lure me to the safe to rob the bank. It would be theperfect cover. I just left him alone in there for over twenty minutes.

Granted, he can’t actually go anywhere from there. Even the bathroom doesn’t have a window. Plus, the safe is locked and only Mr. Haberman has access. If he dies unexpectedly, the entire town will be screwed because no one else has the passcodes.

Nevertheless, I shove open the door, half expecting him to be kneeling at the safe with a stethoscope.

He’s not.

He’s standing in front of me. Cargo pants fastened. Helmet in place. A still figure cloaked in shadows.

The sight of him has my heart flipping in my chest even as heat swells in my cheeks.

“Get out of there,” I grumble, more irritated with myself than him.

With the slowest swagger, he ambles up to me and stops when I have to tip my head back. My reflection stares back at me from the glossy surface of his visor. Wide-eyed. Flushed. The face of someone who’s in way over her head.

“That is not what you said when I had my cock in your tight pussy.”

The low simmer of blood beneath the skin on my face rises to a boil. I feel it burn behind my eyes.

I can’t see his expression, but I would bet my last dollar he’s grinning.

“Asshole,” I mutter, and have to turn away when my own lips twitch.