Page 168 of Like Grim Death: Part One
Pressing my brow to the window, I’m thankful the glass is cold.
He pushes further, his hand coming to the base of my spine and bearing down. “You’re doing so good. You’re perfect.” I bite my bottom lip, and as he goes deeper, filling me up, stretching me tight, my eyes spring open.
And without meaning to, without looking for him, my gaze is on Atlas.
Watching me.
My pulse races, my skin hot, and Maverick starts to fuck me as I stare at his brother down below.
Mav’s hands find my hips, then one tangles in my hair, jerking my head back. My neck is arched, and I can feel himeverywhere,deep, and the sounds of his cock pounding into me fills the air.
But I’m still staring in horror at Atlas. It’s dark in the driveway and he’s got his backward hat on, so it’s hard to make out his facial expression. But he’s definitely looking up, and he’s definitelywatching.
“You’re so fuckingtight,Ella,” Maverick breathes, leaning against me, his palms coming over top of mine on the glass.
I’m terrified he’s going to see Atlas too, and I turn my head quickly, fear wound tight in my gut. I’m clenching around him, no longer relaxed, so each push and pull is uncomfortable, but I try to focus onhim.
This moment.
I’m with him.
Maybe Atlas can’t tell what’s happening. Maybe he has no idea what we’re doing up here. Maybe he can’t even see me in this window.
“Say you’re mine.” Mav’s words as I stare at him while he thrusts his hips, driving into me. “Say you’re only mine.” There’s a desperation to his voice that drags my thoughts from whatever Atlas may or may not be seeing. “Ella,” Mav pleads, his eyes on my own as he slows his thrusts. “Please fucking say it.”
Please.
He never says please. Not for anything, not to anyone.
It scares me, seeing this vulnerable side of him, then I chastise myself for being nervous about the very thing I want most from him.His secrets. His feelings. His wounds.
“I’m yours,” I tell him as he presses his fingertips harder against my own, trapping me to the window. “I’m always yours. Only yours.”
I mean it.
I mean it.
“I love you,” he says, and I remember how I told him just that after he went down on me the first time. How he said I didn’t. How he couldn’t fathom that I could love someone like him.
“But you’re perfect.”And those words leave my lips before I can stop them, a broken, hoarse whisper I didn’t mean to offer up.
His lips quirk up, and he leans his weight into me. He’s so deep inside of me, I can’t fathom ever feeling empty again. “I’m perfect?” he repeats, amusement laced in his words, but something unguarded too.
My entire body feels like it’s blushing, my hands slipping again against the glass, a loud, screeching sound in the quiet room as Maverick just stays inside of me, not moving. “Yes,” I tell him, my heart full to bursting with the confession of his love. It’s not like he’s never told me before. He tells me often, but not really when we’re fucking. Not in moments like this. And yet even without words, he just proved it a million times over, down there on the street. And I tell him the truth, exactly what I think.“You’re perfect to me.”
There’s a flicker of something vulnerable in the sharp planes of his face. His brows pull together, his eyes going wide as he studies me.
Then it’s like a switch flips.
He moves back, barring his forearm around my throat, his other hand on my ass, spreading me wide. He fucks me harder, hitting deep, keeping my chin tilted up so I can’t look through the window anymore and I don’t want to.
I don’t want to think of Atlas.
I won’t.
I. Won’t.
Maverick’s hips collide with mine, jostling my body with the force. I can’t breathe with his arm barred over my neck, and he’s speaking in my ear as he fucks me.
