“Wow,” she murmurs, shifting so her head’s resting on my heaving chest. We’re both damp with sweat, hot to the touch, faces flushed. She stares up at me, asks, “Can we do that again?” “As many fucking times as you want,” I chuckle, wrapping one arm around her shoulder. “Just give me a little time to recover.” “Five minutes, then?” I choke on my own saliva. “You really want to kill me, don’t you?” “No, I want to fuck you,” she says with a cheeky smile. “And then I want to kill you.”
