“Sweet little rabbit,” I growl, “I can answer that for you. Of course I can fuck you. I was just inside you. And since I’m a murderer, I can kill your husband for putting these bruises on you.” My fingers trace her chest, only partially concealed by her blouse. I drop a hand between her thighs and move upward, past the bruises that make her flinch. “We can’t kill him.” I lean closer to her mouth. “We aren’t going to. You aren’t doing anything. I’ll take care of everything, just like I’ll take care of you.” I kiss her, and her breath hitches as I tug down her pants.
