The barrel of his service pistol, still warm from being on his hip, slid through my slick folds, teasing my entrance. It should have terrified me. It should have made me safe-word or beg him to stop.

But it didn’t.

Instead, a fresh rush of arousal flooded through me, making me even wetter. The danger, the taboo, the sheer filth of it made my pussy clench hard.

Malakai noticed. He chuckled darkly.

“Such a dirty little girl,” he murmured, pressing the cold metal barrel against my clit and rubbing it in slow circles. “Getting turned on by your step-uncle’s gun on your pussy.”

I whimpered, pushing back against the weapon,...