“Here. Cover yourself it’s getting cold”
Her eyes flicked down.
It was his jacket.
The same jacket he’d worn when he killed a man.
She could still see the faint smear of blood on the inside seam.
She didn’t move.
Couldn’t.
Her body was still wrecked..ravaged by the orgasm he’d torn out of her with nothing but fingers and cruelty. Her n*****s were hard and glistening. Her thighs were soaked. Her cunt pulsed with a heartbeat of its own, fluttering from emptiness and overstimulation.
And now he wanted her to wear him?
He didn’t even look at her. He didn’t have to.
He drove.
Silent. Casual. One hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on the gun between them, like it belonged there more than she did.
Her hands twitched. Hesitated. Then finally, obediently, she pulled the jacket
