Page 35 of Lamb

Her legs were trembling, her toes curling against my back as I plunged my tongue deeper into that forbidden hole. Coaxing her orgasm to the surface with a mix of double penetration with my fingers and stimulation of the toy and my mouth. Her spine arched off the mattress, her body twisting and contorting like it was possessed.

And it was. She was. She was mine and so was every bit of her I was drinking down.

I didn’t stop my efforts, didn’t change them in any way either. Worried that the slightest deviation would send her spiraling in the wrong direction.

I grunted against her skin, not caring how loud either of us sounded or if the noise carried down the hall to Tate’s bedroom as his bride fucked herself on my tongue, until Marisela slammed a palm down on the mattress. Her leg yanking back off my shoulder as she pressed a bare foot on my face to pry me away.

Her juices coated my cheeks, dripping down my chin and hands so that I couldn’t help but continue to smell her,no matter how much distance she was presently trying to put between us.

“Enough, Adrian.” Marisela shook her head as she paced back and forth across the bedroom floor. “It’s over. I’m done.”

I eyed her for a moment. Taking in how wild her hair was, even with a few patches still missing. How puffy her cheeks were after she had been biting on them for so long. And how beautiful she looked in a state ofalmostundress. Like a present you were too eager to unwrap all the way.

“It’s done when I say it’s done, little lamb.” I kept my tone calm, controlled. “And we are not done.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as I stood from the bed and took two long strides towards her. I could see the distress in her eyes, the desperation and despondence too. It wasn’t just about sex, some form of it at least, or about orgasms. It was about what Briarwood had taken from her. What they had taken from me too. Because getting lost in this woman was more satisfying than anything I’d ever felt before.

Pain. Self-gratification. Revenge. Someone else’s blood on my hands… nothing compared to the feel of her coming on my lips.

“We are done. We have to be done,” she tried again.

“Why?” I lowered my mouth to hers, forcing her to taste herself as I kissed her soft again. She melted into my arms but only long enough for her stubbornness to settle in as she attempted to shove me back. I didn’t let go.

“Because I’m broken,” she whispered, repeating that same mantra she’d been telling me for weeks.

“Then let me fix you,” I whispered back as I forced her chin up to look at me.

“Sometimes you can’t fix people, Adrian.” She was wrong. I could fix people. I had been fixing people. “Sometimes it’s better to just put them down.”

It took me a moment. A moment too long to realize what she was asking of me. The same thing she’d asked me that night in her room… the sudden blur of images confirming what the DNA tests had told me a few days ago. The body I’d tossed in that well was her mother. And I’d sliced her throat because my little lamb couldn’t bring herself to do it. But I could. I’d never even questioned it.

And now I could feel her grip on the knife in my pocket, stroking it like I wanted her to stroke me. I grabbed Marisela’s wrist, squeezing until she had no choice but to pull her hand away.

I wouldn’t do it. I refused to do it. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Adrian?” she huffed.

“Don’t ask me to do that. It’s not going to go the way you think it is,” I warned her.

“And what way is that?”

“You already know I’m willing to kill for you. What do you think I’m willing to do to ensure you stay alive for me? To ensure I get to keep you?” I watched her eyes widen. “Whatever you’re picturing, yeah, I promise you it’s much, much worse.”

“I’m not yours to keep, Adrian. I’m getting married. Toyour boss. In less than a month.” She sighed. “And I’m pretty sure he’s gonna notice some creep crawling into our bed at night.”

She was trying to be funny. She wasn’t.

“Not my boss.” I shrugged while twirling one of her curls in my hand. Careful not to tug it too hard. The vitamins I was slipping into her orange juice were doing wonders to bring my girl back to life again.

“What do you mean?”

“Tate’s not my boss, little lamb. He’s my brother.” I didn’t give her a chance to respond before I was silencing her with another kiss.

50

MARISELA

He’s my brother.I didn’t know what to make of that.