Page 119 of Kill for a Kiss

“You lived here?”

“For a while. After I left.”

She goes quiet. Her gaze lands on the dark corners of the room. Nothing about the thin wooden walls says warmth. It’s made for function. For survival.

“Sterling,” she says, reaching for my arm, “why does it feel like you brought me into your past?”

I breathe through it. “Because I did.”

Her lips touch my shoulder, light and steady. “Then I’ll remember this place,” she whispers. “Every part of it. And we’ll make it ours.”

Her words settle in deep. The space doesn’t feel so haunted anymore.

The door groans, slowly shutting behind us. Dust swirls in the dim light that bleeds through the cracked boards. Everything holds still, quiet enough to hear my heartbeat, loud and heavy.

Elle’s hand slips under my jacket. I barely process it. She’s on me the second the lock clicks. Her fingers in my hair. Mouth against mine. Urgent and fierce. She doesn’t give me a second to pull away. She fists my shirt and tugs hard, grounding herself into me like I might disappear if she doesn’t.

I let her take control. I always will.

I grip her waist and turn her, pressing her against the wall. The boards are rough, the air’s cold. But she’s burning. She’s heat and motion, and I can’t stop chasing her.

“I thought you were going to die,” she whispers shakily against my mouth.

I freeze for a second. She was worried about me. She cares. For some reason, she fucking cares about me. I pull her closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” I growl low. “Unless you tell me to.”

She kisses me harder. Her mouth opens, hungry. I deepen it, one hand running up her spine. She’s here. She wants this. She wantsme.

“Sterling,” she breathes when I drag my mouth to her throat. “More.Please.”

Her voice shakes, almost shy. But her body arches into mine, nothing tentative about it. I groan, rough and raw. My hands move under her shirt, brushing the line of her waist, the dip of her back.

I don’t rush. I want her to feel every scorching touch, every electricsecond. She gasps, her fingers in my hair. I back her toward the cot in the corner. Thin mattress. Scratchy blanket. Doesn’t matter. She drops onto the edge, and I kneel between her knees. Pull her shirt over her head, eyes locked on hers. She looks at me like I’m more than what I’ve done. Like I’m not a monster who’s done terrible things. Killed for others for money.Killed for her for free.

She reaches for my belt. Hands trembling. I let her.

“You’re sure?” I whisper.

She nods, lips brushing mine. “Yes.”

The rest comes apart. Clothes on the floor. Kisses that deepen. Skin against skin. I’ve memorized everything about her. What to touch to make her shiver. How she breathes and sounds when I kiss her in certain places on her perfect body. All while she whispers my name like a plea and a prayer all at once.

She lies back. I follow. Her body fits around mine. I press inside her slow. She takes me in like she was made for it. Made forme.

She watches me. Eyes wide. Lips parted. Hips moving with mine. She feels like heaven, when all I’ve known is hell. Her body right under mine makes me forget everything else. Nothing comes to mind but her warmth, her wetness, her clenching around me.

My body moves on instinct. I never want to stop. I won’t when she’s like this, wanting, needy,all mine. I want her to feel everything I can’t say. Everything I’ve buried. Her mouth never leaves my skin for long. Her name never leaves mine. Her whispered words spread warmth through my body. And when she cries out, holding on like I’m the only thing keeping her from floating away, I know I’d do anything, if it means keeping her here in my arms.

When we collapse into the mess of old sheets, she curls into my chest, quiet and sated if her adorable smile says anything.

Her breathing slows. I kiss her hair.

“You still worried about me dying?” I murmur.

She sighs, sounding satisfied. “Not at the moment.”

Good. Because as long as she wants me, I’ll survive anything.

***