Page 295 of His To Erase
It’s one of those sliding wooden ones—just like at the library.
My face goes hot instantly. The last time I was near one of these, he had his head between my legs and told me not to make a sound.
I shake the memory off and look up, spotting a book shoved at the very top—a black leather one with no title. I climb up to grab it, and the second I do, something slips out and flutters to the floor.
You’ve got the house. The dogs. The guy. Now you’ve got the room.
So next time I’m face-deep in my favorite little cunt, I won’t have to worry about being interrupted.
Enjoy your ladder, dear. I know I will.
P.S.—I’ll be back before dinner.
PPS—Till murder-suicide do us part. I love you.
—S
I cover my mouth,already blushing so hard it feels like my skin might melt off. I drop into the chair as tears stream down my cheeks, which feels wildly unfair, considering how fucking soaked I already am. My body doesn’t know if it wants to keep crying or crawl into his lap and beg.
It still gets me sometimes that I’m here. That he’s mine. That somehow, after everything, I crawled out of the fire and landed in a life that is actually pretty amazing.
It’s mine. All of it.
And I don’t even know what to do with that—except sit here, crying, soaked, and aching in this stupid chair I’m 90% sure he bought just to break me in later. He gives me everything I didn’tthink I could have… then fucks me like he’s trying to erase the years I went without it.
The floor creaks behind me, and I turn—already knowing who it is. I know that walk like I know my own heartbeat. I would recognize it in a hurricane.
He steps inside, and my pussy clenches like it fucking recognizes him and knows exactly what he’s about to do to it. One look and I’m ready to commit a whole list of felonies with his last name.
He’s wearing a black shirt that’s stretched across his chest, sleeves shoved to his elbows. His forearms are veined and flexed, tattoos on full display—and somehow the way he’s just standing there makes me want to drop to my knees and ruin us both.
Then his eyes drop, and when they come back up, I catch it—that bulge in his jeans, thick and definitely getting harder. He’s not even pretending to hide it.
My whole body clenches and I grip the note tighter, pressing my thighs together like that’ll do a damn thing to help.
God, that look he gets when he knows he’s wrecked me is my favorite flavor of fucked. His gaze drops to the note, then back up to my face—and it’s a miracle I’m still standing.
He smirks, smug as hell. “You like it?”
I bite my lip. “The ladder or the threat of interruption while you devour me alive?”
“Yes.” He chuckles.
I laugh through the tears. “You built me a library.”
He steps closer, eyes never leaving mine. “You built me a life.”
My chest does that stupid tight ache thing that makes me want to kiss him and punch him in the same breath. But before I can say anything, he reaches into his back pocket.
“I have one more surprise.”
He pulls out a plain, silver key with a black tag attached to it.
My brows pinch. “What is that?”
He shrugs, like it’s nothing. “A key. It goes to a building.”
“What building?”
