Page 72 of Make Them Bleed

My orgasm is so close, I can almost feel it.Just a little more. “Please.”

“So needy,” Arrow whispers as he hits just the right tempo. “Come for me.”

I didn’t know pleasure could steal my breath and revive me in the same second. Air gone. Air back. A white-hot rush—and I’m tearing through the fog for the surface.

My orgasm continues as Arrow releases my clit, and pushes his long digit into my mouth.

“Suck,” he orders me, and I do.

Once he takes his finger from my mouth he moves it to my ass, spreading my cheek with one hand so he can press that finger against my backside. Against the spot no man has ever ventured before.

Oh my!

He pushes slightly against the puckered hole, and my orgasm somehow intensifies.

“Fuck, Arrow, oh my god,” I shout, uncontrollably like I’ve lost the ability to formulate words. “Oh, wow, fuck me.”

“You like that, huh?” He pushes in a little deeper, and I suck in a deep breath. “That’s it, breathe, baby.”

I do as he says as he works the finger just a bit further inside me. “Arrow,” I whine out, my orgasm slowly fading into the distance.

“I’m so fucking close,” he warns. “Are you on the pill?”

“No, I’m not,” I admit, hating myself for not refilling my prescription.

“I’m going to make a mess of you.” He pulls his dick out, keeping the tip of his finger still tucked inside my ass. He jerks his dick once, twice, and then stuffs the head of his cock inside my ass as he’s coming. “Oh fuck, Juno. fuck,” his words fall out as he comes all over my backside.

As his own orgasm fades, I slump to the bed, my body spent.

“Wow,” I whisper, not even caring about anything right now, my limbs fluid.

“I’ll get you cleaned up.” Arrow’s off the bed in a flash, running into the bathroom. The water runs, and then he’s back with a warm wash cloth.

He’s really the best.

I’m already passing out as he cleans me up, and then folds me into his hold, our heartbeats syncing up together as we fall asleep, completely blissed out of our minds.

26

Arrow

I wake with Juno tucked under my arm, her hair a dark spill on my chest and her breath warm against my skin. For a selfish beat, the world is small. Just us. Just the soft weight of her and the lazy thump of my heart saying stay.

“Morning,” she mumbles without opening her eyes.

“Stay put,” I whisper. “Bribery incoming.”

In the kitchen I move quietly, muscle memory taking over. Coffee, skillet, the hiss of butter. Blueberries tumble like marbles across the counter. I fold them into the batter and watch the first pancake bubble, flip it, and feel absurdly proud when it lands golden. Juno pads in wearing my shirt, steals a blueberry from the bowl, and points it at me like a loaded secret.

“These better be legendary,” she says.

“Prepare to be serenaded by carbohydrates.”

We eat at the island—her knee knocking mine, my hand finding her thigh—coffee warming the edges of a morning I want tostretch forever. She licks syrup from her thumb, and I swear to keep this safe, whatever it takes.

Then the crime board on the wall looks back at us: red string, names, times. The air shifts.

“After breakfast,” she says, voice steady. “What’s the plan?”