Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
LUKE
To prove my point, I rubbed my dick against her pussy.
Glancing up, she stared me dead in the eyes. “Eh. I’ve had better.”
Unable to hold back, I called her out on her bullshit. “’Cause your panties aren’t wet right now?”
She angled her head up in defiance, sassing, “I’m not wearing any.”
Her leg shot up, trying to nail me in the balls. She instantly made me release my hold to block her retaliation. She didn’t let up and tried to punch me in the face. I blocked each attempt, only pissing her off.
She growled in frustration. I didn’t know if it was from her not being able to actually hit me or from what I said, aware it was the truth. Or maybe it was from knowing she wasn’t going anywhere unless I allowed her to. She lost her footing, falling to the ground, and tried crawling away from me to get back up.
“Oh, fuck no!” I grabbed her ankle, dragging her ass back toward me, not making it easier on her by any means.
She fell forward with an oomph, and I used the momentum to turn her ass over and hover above her, pinning her beneath me. She panted profusely, trying to catch her breath. Her chest was rising and falling, her heart pounding against my chest.
The scent of her.
The feel of her.
It was too much to take.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I affirmed. “You want to play rough?”
I could see it in her eyes. At that moment, she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Her glare glazed over to this heady expression I’d never forget. I was breaching the walls she securely had in place for me. I swear I could physically feel every part of her thoughts wreaking havoc on her.
Leaning forward until I was close to her mouth, I breathed out against her lips, “Not so tough when your ass is on the ground.”
And then I lost all reasoning, crashing my mouth onto hers.
My hands dug into her hair, and her hands clawed at my chest.
It was intense.
It was needy.
It was all-consuming.
She met each push and pull I delivered. Clutching onto the sides of her face, I devoured her perfect pouty lips.
Her soft tongue.
My body on top of hers.
She forcefully gripped the front of my shirt, yanking me closer like we weren’t already close enough. Trying to mold us into one person before she moaned into my mouth…
Making my cock twitch in my slacks.
DUCHESS
I gasped, surprised by the turn of events. His body was between my legs, and he pressed his cock into my core. His right leg was hitched against my ass, and the other stretched out behind him. He had one hand gripping my left thigh up to his hip and the other around the back of my neck, holding me firmly into the mat with his weight.
My thighs clenched, and my face felt on fire, igniting his flame to keep going.
He pointed out, “Are you ready for me, Duchess? You think you can take me?”
I wasn’t sure if he was still talking about fighting or if he meant it in a sexual manner, but either way, my body responded for me. Loudly moaning, I rolled my hips into his rock-hard cock.
My eyes shut tightly.
My breathing hitched.
My hands went to his back.
This embrace was much different from our last. His lips were rough but smooth against mine, his touch firm yet gentle. My heart drummed so fast, I swear he could hear it, feeling it against his chiseled chest. He pulled me closer by the nape of my neck as if I wasn’t already close enough, pinned beneath him.
My body molded perfectly against his. Words couldn’t describe what I was thinking.
What I was feeling.
What he was making me feel.
This push and pull between us was as uncontrollable as whatever would happen between us from here on out. There’d be no resisting him after this. Incoherent thoughts ran rapidly in my mind with no end in sight.
His hand moved from clutching my thigh and began roaming. It started in my hair and traveled down to my face as I writhed and moaned beneath him, enticing him to go further.
“Fuck… you feel good. How do ya feel this fuckin’ good?” he growled, gliding his hand toward the top of my breast.
I could feel my nipple hardening through my flimsy cotton sports bra. I pushed my chest further into his hand, and he immediately gripped it harder, using his knee that was still holding up my thigh as leverage. My hips moved on their own, rubbing against his hard dick through my thin shorts.
He groaned, knowing exactly what he was stirring inside me as he kissed me with all the passion and hunger of a starved man. Our movements became headier and more urgent, both of us searching for something when, all of a sudden, he kissed me one last time and slowly pulled away.
My eyes snapped open, connecting with his intoxicating stare.
Scaring the absolute shit out of me.
Feelings weren’t something I ever considered or even thought about for that matter. My life had always been about one thing and one thing alone—my career. It was a lonely life I created, where I had believed my own lies about not needing to rely on anyone other than myself. I was the source of my sadness and possibly the destruction of my happiness.
It was easier that way to drown out the chaos of the life I led day after day. It was the price I had to pay. My mind was always my own worst enemy. Our lives may have been completely different on the outside, but the internal scars were similar.
Making our connection something deeper than I expected.
There was so much I wanted to say as I looked into his eyes.
There was so much he needed to know.
But I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
I just wasn’t made like that.
I did the only thing I could in that situation. I avoided the subject. “Did I win or lose?”
“You’re lyin’ beneath me. I’d consider that a win for me, ya feel me?”
I smirked, knowing he meant it as a double innuendo. “I didn’t even get to show you my best moves.”
He was impressed with the skills I did show, and asked, “Who taught you how to fight like that?”
“I grew up with two brothers.”
Despite this being the first thing I told him about myself, he didn’t call me out on it. Probably because he knew how hard that was for me.
“And where was that?”
I smiled. “Don’t push your luck.”
He grinned. “You owe me another confession.”
“Maybe later.”
“On our date?”
“Oh, we’re going on a date now?”
He kissed my lips. “We were always going on a date.”
“Don’t think just because you’re kissing me right now means you’re going to have the right to kiss me whenever you want.”
He kissed me again. “And how do I get that right?”
I shook my head, whispering, “Don’t fall for me, Jameson.”
“Says the woman who’s on the floor.”
The emotion…
I could touch it.
Feel it.
Taste it.
It surrounded me.
Choked me.
“Tell me your name,” he insisted.
I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him that what you saw was what you got when it came to him.
What he said was what he meant.
No matter what.
Whether I wanted to see it or not.
Whether I wanted to hear it or not.
And those were always the most dangerous kind of men.
Proving my point, he propositioned, “I’ll tell you what, the day I learn your name”—he paused for a second to stare deep into my eyes—“is the day that you’re mine .”
If things were complicated and confusing with us before, well this, this just added a whole new dynamic to our relationship.
The only thing left for me to say was the truth. “You’re playing with fire.”
Fully aware I was going to burn us both.