Chapter 10 #2
“We’re not friends,” I declare, losing the untamable control of my own voice. “More like frenemies, maybe, and even that’s pushing it.”
He laughs, and it only continues to undo me. That gravelly rasp of his tone, it unfurls this deep-seated desire for things I never even considered before him: someone steady in my life.
It’s stupid, I know. It sounded stupid as soon as the thought left me. But what if…
“Answer me one thing.” He bores his piercing gaze into mine, and my pulse rises as though hostage to his command. “Have you thought about me once since the last time we saw each other?”
“I—”
“And try to be honest for once. I know how difficult that is for you.” Amusement lines his expression.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes. “Maybe once. Twice.”
“Twice?” Both of his brows rise in a cocky way. “Wow. A lot more than I imagined.”
I swat his chest, and he chuckles, catching my wrist and kissing the inside of it.
My heartbeats pummel, his eyes sinking into mine as his lips remain there, bound to my pulse.
I straighten my spine and clear my throat.
“I don’t know what’s going on in that big head of yours, but my thoughts of you literally lasted for seconds,” I lie. “It was more like, ‘Wow, those were some great orgasms. What’s for dinner?’”
“Made that pussy come hard, and now you can’t forget about me, is that right?” He smiles knowingly.
“That’s not what happened.” I huff, while pretending what he just said isn’t in fact the whole damn truth. “I forgot about you. You were completely forgotten.”
He shakes his head, unable to wipe that smug grin off his face. Then out of nowhere, his amusement dies, the smile fading away as though it never was, and in its place is a man sheathed with a raw kind of prowess.
My pulse hitches. With excitement.
His hand wraps around my throat like he owns me.
“Liar,” he drawls, intensity brewing on his face, the hollows beneath his cheeks deepening.
Then, he smashes his lips to mine and kisses the holy hell out of me.
His palm tightens around my throat, his tongue invading the warmth of my mouth as he forces me to kiss him back, to undo the invisible chains that bind me, that he doesn’t even know exist. The ones that keep me from the things that could’ve been mine if only my life wasn’t so unspeakably changed.
His free hand roughs into my hair, tugging and pulling with the roughened roll of his tongue around mine. He’s groaning, desperate for more, while my hands act of their own volition, practically clawing at his shirt.
When I curl my arms around his shoulders and groan, his kiss gentles and deepens, an unhurried lull of passion seeping between us.
I want more of whatever this is. This everlasting high I’ve never known.
I want his hands between my thighs, quenching this thirst I’ve never felt before.
Want him to flip me around, bend me over, and fuck me until I see stars.
A slip of a moan falls out of me, and a satisfactory growl rumbles out of him.
His teeth bite my lower lip, drawing it into that sinful mouth of his as he grunts deep in his chest. The kiss is unearthly, a shattering of my existence, a mere combustion of attraction and lust and desire.
I don’t know what to do with it or how to stop it, and I desperately want to stop it. Or my brain does. But my body? It wants it all.
Breathlessly, he pulls away, his chest rising higher with each inhale, those eyes fastened with mine. “Fucking hell, Red. I knew you’d kiss me back like you meant it.”
He groans low, the sound thundering as both hands sink into my hair, gripping roughly.
“I kiss everyone like that.” I swallow thickly, trying to come down from the high.
“You don’t even lie well,” he retorts, eyes growing heavy-lidded.
I turn my head sideways, trying to fight a smile. Kinda, sorta succeeding.
“So adorable.” His hand slinks out of my strands, an index finger tapping my nose.
I pitch him with a glare, and his smirk widens. I swear the man enjoys getting a rise out of me.
“You repulse me,” I fire out.
His chuckle echoes as his hand glides down the side of my torso and climbs up my inner thigh.
“Are you sure about that?” That voice grows slicker, gravellier.
And fuck me, I get wetter the more he talks, the more he touches me this way.
“Yes…” I breathe, hating myself for sounding weak.
His darkened eyes trap me in his inescapable gaze, and with his hand clutching my hair, he flips me around and presses my front up against the elevator, pushing my cheek into the wall with his palm.
“I guess we’re gonna find out how repulsive I really am.” He yanks up my tiny dress, the cool air hitting my bare ass.
A finger runs between my cheeks, his thumb hooking into the thin strap of my white thong.
“I’ve been counting down the minutes till I have you under my grasp, and this right here…” He spanks my ass. “This is even better than I’ve imagined.”
His words hunger for a taste of me, and I swear I’m about to give it to him. Roughly, he drags my panties down until they tighten around my upper thighs.
“Spread them,” he demands, and like his little puppet, I obey.
My core throbs for his fingers, needing to feel myself come undone once again.
“Has anyone touched your pussy since I have?” he asks, as though daring me to tell him they have.
I shake my head.
“Brava ragazza…good girl,” he grunts, relief swallowing his tone.
And I swear, if any other man ever called me a good girl, I’d deck him.
But coming from him, especially in two languages… I like it.
What the hell is happening?
Before I can think a second more about any of this, his heavy palm strikes me across my rear once more, my hair clutched in his fist as he snaps my neck backward.
“You’re not going to run from me again, do you hear me?” His warm and heady breath wisps across the shell of my ear.
I don’t disagree. I couldn’t if I tried, not with the way I feel in this very moment.
But I will. I’ll run, and this time he won’t catch me. He can’t. I won’t let him get close. My secrets need to stay buried. My scars are not his to bear. I’m destined to be alone. It’s the way it has to be.
“I haven’t heard an answer, Red.” He spanks me again, harder this time.
“I won’t run,” I breathlessly submit.
“That’s my girl.”
“I’m not your girl.” My reply sounds like a lie even to myself.
“Not yet. But you will be. It’s only a matter of time.”
Then he thrusts his thick fingers inside me, filling me to capacity, giving me something no man has before: a sense of possession and yearning. An unexplainable feeling I’ve never felt.
Maybe it’s the orgasms. They’re loading my head with all kinds of stupid thoughts.
Like maybe I can keep fucking the same guy and hold my secrets intact.
Maybe he won’t find out who I am or why I’m such a mess when no one’s around.
Or why I can’t seem to get rid of the nightmares, no matter how long ago it happened.
But even as I try to rationalize it all, I know that’s a fantasy. If I keep seeing him, he’s bound to find out everything, and I’m not ready for that. I’ll never be ready.
“Repulsive, huh? You get this wet for every man who repulses you?” He curls his fingers, stroking my G-spot with a gruff strain of his tone. He deepens his strokes, tugging my hair in his palm. “Your pussy is dripping, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.” He drives inside me, all the way deep.
“Oh, God, shut up,” I gasp.
The more his punishing strokes assail me, the more he speaks those dirty words that apparently I’m very much into, the more turned on I get.
I let out a loud cry when he slides out and then back in with brutal force, like he wants to remind me I’m his to do with what he wants.
“Hush now.” His lips fall close to my ear, velvety soft. “Wouldn’t want an audience.” He sucks my lobe into the heat of his mouth. “Unless that’s your thing, bambina.”
But I don’t get to respond, because the man sends me headfirst into oblivion, so intensely I have no other option but to fall.
Hard and fast.
Completely unprepared.
With nothing to hold on to.