Chapter 16
TAYLOR
‘Holy fuck!’
‘There ain’t anything holy about this, Baby Girl.’
He’s right, there isn’t.
He’s slamming into me from behind, pinning my upper body against the cool marble of my kitchen island. Gucci blouse wrenched to my wrists, breasts spilling from my bra, leather skirt hitched to my waist, stilettos still on; it may not be holy, but it is fucking heaven.
Another month has gone by. Another period, come and gone. But the fun is in the trying, right?
And we’re really fucking trying. More sex than I’ve had hot dinners since the wedding, and he never ceases to blow my mind.
‘More, Ax. More!’
He kicks my feet wider, lace knickers biting into my ankles, threatening to snap.
‘You play dirty, you get fucked hard.’
I did play dirty. My inner devil preens.
Yesterday’s ‘business’ meeting with Theo, I drove Ax crazy in this very same outfit.
Leaning across the desk to check the figures Theo was poring over, giving Ax more than just a glimpse of cleavage – the bra too.
Crossing and uncrossing my legs wide enough, he didn’t need to guess whether my knickers matched… or whether I was wearing any.
The second I left the room, my phone pinged:
That outfit. Your place. Tomorrow. 6 p.m.
No:
If you’re free?
Will you be home?
Do you want to?
Just command after command. Ax, all over. And I’m so here for it.
No sooner had I opened the door than he had me up against this counter, kissing me hard. Claiming. Punishing. Making my head spin.
I got as far as yanking off his tee before he spun me around and drove into me.
He grips my arse now, rough enough to bruise.
‘You had me so fucking tongue-tied, Theo thought I needed a bloody intervention.’
Oh my God. That is too funny. And I make the mistake of laughing; I can’t help it.
‘You think that’s funny?’
He spanks one round cheek, and I cry out – pleasure-pain, a thrill through my veins.
‘You think it’s funny you got him so worried, he cracked open the good stuff and wouldn’t let me leave until I confessed everything?’ he demands, pounding into me. ‘Only I can’t confess everything, can I?’
‘No! No, you can’t!’
He spanks me again and I shudder.
‘You swan off, scot-free, swaying these hips as you go, driving me insane, and I’m left with the third degree.’
I moan as he drives into me harder, hitting my sweet spot deep inside.
‘Newsflash, Tay.’ He leans over me, mouth rasping at my ear. ‘I don’t like lying to my best mate.’
I know he doesn’t, but—
‘So what do you say to me, Baby Girl?’
‘Fuck me harder.’
He inhales sharply as he straightens, spanking one cheek, then the other.
‘Try again.’
‘Fuck me harder,’ I gasp, ‘please.’
‘You’re so fucking wrong.’
I know he wants me to say I’m sorry, but the fun is in the game. He’s loving this as much as I am. Two months of this and I’ve learned every one of his tells, in bed and out of it. I know exactly how to push him, how to get what I need.
He spreads my arse, his thumb stroking between my cheeks and making me quiver.
‘Bad girls don’t get what they need…’
My breath catches. I’m not the only one absorbing every tell; it’s like he’s in my head, reading every word.
He leans over me again and I think he’s going to whisper not-so-sweet-nothings against my ear when his hand reaches for the olive oil.
What the—?
I push up. ‘What are you—?’
‘Shh…’ He pins me back down, and I tense as warmth dribbles down my crack. ‘I’ve had this fantasy ever since that firepit talk.’
‘Ax! This blouse is worth— A-a-ah!’
It shudders out of me as his thumb presses against the tiny, puckered opening, sparks of pleasure firing off in all directions as my pussy clenches around him and my eyes fly shut.
‘What was that, Baby Girl?’ He teases inside the sensitive ring, hips still moving. ‘Use your words.’
But I can’t. Can’t speak. Can’t breathe. It’s too good. Too much, too good.
‘I don’t give a fuck about your blouse,’ he growls. ‘I give a fuck about you. This body. This tight little hole.’
He presses deeper, drawing another helpless sound from me.
‘Relax, Baby Girl.’
My legs quake as both his cock and thumb ease out, then slide back in – out and in – stretching me right to the edge of pain and packing me full of pleasure. My God. My legs give way completely, taken out by the sensory overload.
Relax? Try ruined.
Ruined, and still craving more.
‘You like that, don’t you?’
He hauls me upright against his chest, hand closing around my throat, teeth scraping at my ear. ‘You like being fucked like the dirty girl you are?’
‘Yes,’ I breathe. ‘God, yes.’
I do. I fucking do.
‘I should fuck you here,’ he rasps, thumb pressing deeper until my core clenches hard, my whimpers turning frantic. ‘Claim that tight arse while my fingers fuck you here…’
His hand slips down my front, under my bunched-up skirt, cupping my bare pussy.
‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ I whimper, because it’s the damn truth. I’ve never wanted a man like this. Never felt like this: wanting to be ruined, wanting to be taken over so completely, there’s nothing left of me but need. Totally possessed.
‘It wouldn’t make you a baby,’ he murmurs darkly, ‘but I bet you want it anyway.’
I do.
I want him everywhere. Filling me every way. Over and over. Because I can’t get enough. Not of him. Not of this.
‘Do it, Ax. Please. I want you to fuck me.’
‘Where, Baby Girl?’
I moan, rocking my hips. ‘Here.’
‘Not good enough. Tell me where.’
‘My arse, Ax,’ I gasp. ‘Please. Fuck my arse. Make it yours.’
He shudders behind me, a curse tangled up in his breath, and I wonder if I’ve shocked him.
Hell, I’ve shocked myself. Saying it. Wanting it.
Knowing what it means. Letting this chance of a baby go.
But the nerves waking under his thumb, the nerves that’ll come alive when his cock stretches me further…
‘Please, Ax,’ I push back, taking his thumb deeper, his cock pressing harder.
‘Patience, Baby Girl.’
He forces me back down against the counter, palm firm at my lower back as he pulls out, emptying me in one swift move, and I miss him instantly. His cock. His thumb. Him.
‘I’m gonna savour this.’
He drags his slick length through my cleft, spreading our combined heat over my skin. More oil follows. It trickles down my crack, my pussy, my thighs, making me tremble and beg.
‘Please… Ax. Please.’
‘You’re lethal when you beg.’
He spanks me again, and I bite down on my lip, breath rasping through my nose.
‘Even more when you wear my mark.’
He strokes away the sting, fingers soft – too soft – and I thrust back, greedy for more.
He laughs softly. ‘Impatient too. Is this what you want?’
The head of his cock presses against the tight hole and I gasp. Too big. Impossible. I’ll—
‘Relax, Baby Girl, relax.’
He rocks, teasing, coaxing me wider, inch by inch. The sound that leaves me is barely human: a long, tiny mew. My cheek burns against the marble, my breath fogging the gold-flecked surface, every pant getting shorter, louder… the pressure building into something blinding.
‘You’re so tight. So damn tight.’
The world narrows to sensation: cool stone, slick heat, the obscene fullness of him inside me. My kitchen gleams around us, bright, creamy perfection, and we’re fucking like rabbits all over it. Tainting it. Dirtying it.
And I love it. Love this.
‘You feel so fucking good, Ax. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.’
He drives in harder, his hand slipping between my thighs, finding my swollen clit, and I know I’m done for. He rolls it, tweaks it, and I’m gone, pleasure crashing so violently, I can’t tell if I’m rising or falling, only that I’m lost when it breaks.
My cry ricochets off the tiles, and he follows, body locking tight as he pulses wildly inside me, hot seed shooting deep.
‘Fuck!’ he grits out, jerking, groaning, lifting me up against him as we ride the wave together.
‘You can say that again,’ I murmur, hooking my hands behind his head to hold him near.
He kisses my hair, my ear, my throat – sweet little kisses that belie the end I know is coming.
Just as it always does.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks, and I give him the smile I’ve come to perfect.
‘Are you seriously asking me that after making me come so hard, I think I saw into next week?’
He chuckles, the look in his eye making my chest ache as he eases out. I want to stop him. Pull him back. Say—
Ping.
My private elevator chimes.
Like meerkats, our heads snap up in unison. Only a handful of people have access to it, and even less have access without pre-approval.
‘Tay? You here?’
Fuck, Sadie.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
We spin apart, scrambling behind the island.
Open-plan living is such a great idea… until it’s not.
I’m shoving myself back together as he zips himself away. There’s oil, there’s mess, there’s his T-shirt across the way—
I dive for it, snatching it back before her footsteps change tone and I know she’s in the living room behind us.
I press the shirt to his chest, allowing a nanosecond of appreciation for the inked muscle beneath my palm, before meeting his gaze.
I point to myself before throwing a thumb over my shoulder, then gesture to him and the door, hoping he’ll get the message: my turn to run distraction, your turn to get out.
He nods and I let go of him. Smooth down my hair. My clothing. Slam a cupboard and pop up.
‘Sadie!’
My sister freezes halfway into the room, her eyes as wild as her hair. She’s soaked through, shivering like crazy.
‘Jesus, what happened to you?’ I rush forwards, fear replacing everything else. ‘Are you okay? Is Theo okay? Lottie?’
She’s nodding as I grab a hold of her arms, concerned gaze raking all over her.
‘Sorry to j-just show up like this, s-sis.’
‘What’s happened? What’s the matter?’
‘It’s— it’s Danny…’
‘Danny?’ My voice thins. Her ex? ‘But he’s in prison.’
Surely he can’t have been released. Not without us knowing. Not without—
‘He’s d-dead, Tay.’