Chapter 22
Kane felt her body clamp around him, tight and trembling, and every instinct he had snapped into a sharp, possessive focus.
He held still for a beat, letting her adjust to his size, letting himself breathe through the primal urge to take everything she was offering and then some.
He was a big man—no ego, just the truth—and she was gripping him as if she’d never taken a man like him before. Hell, maybe she hadn’t.
His hand slid down her spine as he pushed her forward until her palms hit the mattress.
He straightened behind her, taking in the sight he knew would be burned into his brain forever—her back arched, her hair a wild mess, and her ass flushed from his earlier smacks.
Beautiful and his. At least in this moment, she was his.
That possessiveness hit so hard it bordered on violent, the kind that made him want to track down every man who’d ever touched her and break them in half just because they existed.
He dragged himself out halfway, the drag tight and almost too good, then slammed back in, watching the way her ass shook with the impact.
He listened for any sound of discomfort, but all he got was a breathless moan.
When she wiggled her hips, silently begging, a low growl rumbled out of him.
His hand slid around her body, cupping her breast, squeezing, feeling the way her nipple hardened beneath his fingers.
A little pain, a little pleasure—testing her, learning her, and fuck, she responded to him like she was made for him.
Yeah, the guys called him a manwhore. And sure, he liked sex more than he liked half the people he worked with.
But none of them knew the truth... he wanted more.
A woman who could match him, challenge him, and give back as hard as he gave.
Someone who didn’t want to tame him but could take the parts of him that could never be tamed.
Monica cried out his name, voice high and desperate. “Kane, please.”
“Patience,” he warned, giving her ass a sharp smack, though he couldn’t help the primal grin that tugged at his mouth. She wanted him. Needed him. And damn, that hit him harder than he expected.
He thrust again harder this time and felt her whole body jolt. Her knees wobbled, and he tightened his grip on her hips to steady her.
“That’s it,” he hissed, voice low and rough. “Give in to it.”
Her breathing stuttered. She tried to push back against him, meeting his rhythm, and something in him broke loose. He moved faster, his hips snapping against her, his fingers digging into her skin. The sounds she made were raw, needy, honest—no holding back.
“Kane—I’m—” Her voice cracked.
“I know,” he growled, leaning over her as he drove into her, his chest brushing her back. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
She shattered with a cry, her body tightening around him. He thrust through it, riding the waves of her climax until his own hit him like a punch. He buried himself deep, groaning her name against her shoulder as he came hard, pulse after pulse, until he was shaking.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Then Kane carefully eased out of her, his hands steadying her so she didn’t collapse. She trembled, and the protective part of him—the part he pretended didn’t exist—rose to the surface.
“Easy,” he murmured, running a hand down her back. His voice had softened without his permission.
He lifted her gently, turning her onto her back and brushing her hair out of her face.
Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen, eyes hazy, but she looked at him like he wasn’t just a rough bastard with a reputation.
Like she saw something worth staying for.
That messed with his head in ways he wasn’t ready to admit.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, thumb brushing her jaw.
“Yes,” she said with a full, satisfied smile. “More than okay.”
Kane knew he’d been a little rough, and the fact she took it and owned it hit him in a way he wasn’t prepared for.
He pulled the blanket over her, then lay beside her, his hand sliding to her hip as if it belonged there.
Still claiming her, but softer now. Protective in a way he didn’t bother hiding.
“You?” she asked, and damn if that didn’t tug at him in a way nothing else had.
“More than okay,” he echoed, a slow smile touching his mouth before fading just as fast.
Monica rolled to her side, her own smile slipping. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” He tried to brush it off, but she wasn’t buying it—not with that look.
She pushed herself up, holding the blanket to her chest. “Kane?” She tilted her head at him. “I’m a confident woman, but when a man frowns after sex with me, it knocks that confidence down a notch.” One brow lifted, challenging him.
Kane reached out and tugged the blanket right out of her grip, exposing her bare skin to his stare. “When you’re in my bed, don’t hide your body.” His voice dipped low, a command wrapped in heat as his eyes moved from her breast to her face.
She wasn’t going to drop it. He could see that stubborn fire catching in her eyes.
“I want you to quit your job with Farrar,” he said bluntly.
“Excuse me?” she asked, head tilting again, but he knew she heard him just fine.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this and—”
She cut him off by kicking the blanket away and climbed out of the bed. She found her panties on the floor, stepped into them, and didn’t spare him another glance.
“Monica—”
She was already at the door. She glared over her shoulder. “You didn’t have to fuck me to have this conversation, asshole.” She stormed across the hall into her room and slammed the door.
“Fuck,” Kane growled, getting out of bed and following her. He grabbed her doorknob. It was locked. “Open the damn door!” He was a second away from kicking it down.
She opened it instead and shoved past him. She went straight to the bathroom and slammed that door shut. Water started running.
Kane frowned. What the hell was she doing?
He tried the knob—locked again. With a sharp curse, he hit the door with his shoulder and went straight through it.
“You’re fixing that,” she called from the shower. “Now go away, Kane. Actually, get your shit and get out. You’re fired.”
“Fired?” he barked with a humorless laugh, standing there naked as hell. “You can’t fire me.”
“I just did. Get. Out.” She shut off the shower, pulled the curtain back, and stepped out—dripping, pissed, and absolutely gorgeous. She grabbed a towel to cover herself.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, still not understanding any of this.
“Washing you off me,” she snapped, trying to push past him again. This time, he didn’t move.
Okay, that fucking stung a little bit. “You wasted your time,” he said darkly, grabbing her and pinning her gently but firmly to the wall. “I’ll have you again, Monica.” His face was inches from hers.
She just stared at him without saying anything.
“Tell me you didn’t like it.” He demanded, still feeling a little pissed about her washing him off her remark. No woman had ever dared say anything like that to him. Yeah, his ego took a big hit, and he didn’t fucking like it.
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” she whispered.
Her breathing shook, and he caught the shimmer in her eyes, tears she refused to let fall.
She straightened her spine, chin lifting with pride.
“I didn’t expect romance from you, Kane.
I didn’t expect cuddling or declarations. What I did expect was respect.”
He stared at her, completely lost. “How the hell did I disrespect you?”
“I opened myself up to you in the most vulnerable way I ever could,” she said, voice raw but steady.
“And one of the first things out of your mouth is that I need to quit my job with Farrar. What did you think? That once you got me in your bed, I’d roll over and do whatever you wanted?
” Her eyes flicked away. “A man tried that... once.”
“I’m not your fucking ex,” Kane growled, his eyes going dark.
“No,” Monica tilted her head to look him square in the eyes. “You’re not. He didn’t fuck me right before he demanded I choose between him and finding my sister.”
Once again, that stung more than he’d like to admit, and it pissed him the fuck off.
No woman had ever come at him like this, and he had to admit his respect for her had hit a new level.
He decided to remain silent because he didn’t want to say anything he would regret, and wasn’t that new.
.. he never gave a shit what he said or who he said it to.
“I made a promise to my dead sister that I’d take down her killer. And nothing—nothing—not even a good fuck is going to make me break that promise.”
“I didn’t sleep with you to bribe you,” Kane snapped back, stunned she even thought it.
She laughed once, sharp and humorless. “Maybe if you waited a few damn hours before bringing it up, I might’ve believed that.” She shoved him, and this time he let her go. “Get your things and leave.”
She walked out, heading to her room, leaving him standing naked in the bathroom like a complete idiot. Knox poked his head through the doorway before it shut again, and for a second, Kane swore even the damn dog looked disappointed in him.
He dragged a hand over his face and let out a low, vicious curse.
What the hell was he doing? He wasn’t the type to chase after anyone; hell, most women were lucky if he remembered their names the next morning, and most women just didn’t give a shit.
The ones he went for wanted the same thing as him, good sex and quick goodbyes. It was an unspoken mutual agreement.
But Monica? She wasn’t just in his head. She was under his skin, buried so damn deep he couldn’t shake her even if he wanted to. And there were no unspoken mutual agreements with a woman like her.
He’d definitely screwed this one up. He could admit that to himself, at least. Dropping that shit about quitting her job right after they’d just blown each other’s minds…
yeah, he could see how that landed wrong.
It wasn’t that he didn’t respect her. It was the opposite.
She was strong, stubborn, fearless, everything he wasn’t used to.
But saying it like that? Right after he’d been inside her, after she’d let herself be vulnerable with him, was definitely a dick move. It probably sounded like he was trying to take something from her instead of protecting her.
“Fuck!” Kane leaned his shoulder against the busted doorframe and let the truth settle like a weight across his chest, heavy and uncomfortable, but real.
He wasn’t used to giving a damn. And he sure as hell wasn’t used to being the one who screwed things up and had to fix them.
But for Monica? Yeah. He’d fix it. Because for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to walk away from a woman.