Page 98 of Blood & Throttle
I lean down, grab her chin in one hand, and tilt her face up to mine—rough, amused, and high on her.
“Good for a whole lot more than that, Little Stray,” I rasp, smirking. “But I’m not about to start complaining.”
Her lips curve into a smug, sinful smile.
And fuck, I’d let her ruin me a thousand more times if she looked at me like that.
I haul her up into my lap, crushing my mouth to hers in a brutal kiss, tasting myself on her tongue, not giving a fuck about anything except the fact that she's here.
Alive.
Mine.
When I finally pull back, breathing hard, I press my forehead to hers.
“We're not done," I murmur against her lips, my voice rough and low. "Not even close."
She doesn’t argue. She just clings tighter.
I slide one arm under her thighs, the other around her back, and lift her off the floor like she weighs nothing.
She laughs—soft, breathless—pressing her face into my throat as I carry her to the bed.
I don’t rush it.
I don’t want to.
Because tomorrow, the world shifts again.
We might’ve survived Wraithmoor.
Might’ve bled our way through The Concrete Graveyard, but The Dead Zone’s waiting now, and it’s not a race. It’s a fucking tomb. And most of the bastards lined up for it aren’t driving to win.
They’re driving to kill.
But tonight?
Tonight none of that matters.
Not the death waiting for us.
Not the darkness clawing at the edges.
Not even the bodies we dropped tonight.
Tonight, all that matters isher—warm, breathing, and in my arms.
And if hell thinks it can let tomorrow’s problems take her from me? It’s gonna find out real fucking quick, I’ll burn it down first.
Eighteen
Riot
The Few Things - JP Saxe, Charlotte Lawrence
She’s warm against me.Soft.
Curled against my chest like she belongs there.
