Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-Five
Caine
When Margot spun around, puffed up like a cat out for blood, I didn’t anticipate things going from fuck all the way off to please fuck me.
I should have. The woman has incredible range.
I’m on her in an instant, cupping her face in my hands.
She moves into my touch, pressing her breasts to my chest, but turns at the last second. My kiss lands on her cheek.
“Wait a minute.” Her voice is breathy, full of mischief. “I said you could cut my panties off, not kiss me. The deal stands.”
A deal I completely forgot.
Forehead resting against hers, I try to compose myself enough to think. Enough not to beg. “Right, no kissing.”
Our lips are so close they could brush with the slightest movement. That temptation is agonizing in the most delicious way. After aching for her for years, being this close and unable to kiss feels oddly appropriate.
“Yep.”
God, I can taste the word. She’s right there.
Fighting back a groan, I keep going. “But kissing you other places is on the table.”
Her heart races, fluttering where our chests touch. “I suppose. Where are you thinking?”
I’m a dead man. That’s the only explanation for how I walked behind a building and ended up in heaven.
Nuzzling my way down her cheek, into the crook of her neck, I inhale deeply, unable to resist. Fucking hell. I could come in my pants again right here if I’m not careful.
Shuddering, she lets out a shaky breath as I rasp against the side of her throat, “Your neck to start.”
Kissing the delicate skin, I wait until I feel her inhale beneath my lips. Then I nip her, the slightest bite. Continuing to kiss my way down her throat, I pause at the gentle swell of her breasts.
“Then your perfect tits.” I kiss as low as the neckline of her sundress allows, though I’m dying to tug the material down and bare her.
Fabric separates her skin from my mouth as I trail kisses down her stomach, dropping to my knees before her.
There’s a tremble in her legs, an unsteadiness that makes me grip her hips.
Teeth dug into her bottom lip, she watches me press a light kiss on the fabric covering the apex of her thighs.
“Your pussy.”
Her hips sway into me the slightest bit before she stiffens, catching herself. It’s all I can do not to drag her down on top of me right here.
“Oh no,” I pull away long enough to murmur. “Don’t hold back. If you want to fuck my face, you fuck my face.”
Her laugh is breathy. “I’m not fucking your face behind a library.”
“Your car is right over there.” I nuzzle her. “Or we can leave it here, and I’ll drive you back to the house.”
Her fingers thread through my hair. Easily one of the best sensations of my life. Tugging it gently, she pulls my face away from her body, starlight sparkling in her eyes. “I want to go back to the Abattoir.”
· · ·
We make the trip in record time. As I finish setting up Gremlin in the office, Margot’s rummaging through her purse.
“What do you need?” I ask, re-fluffing a tiny dog bed.
“ChapStick.”
“There’s one in the outside pocket of my backpack.”
“Thank you.”
The sound of a zipper being tugged open freezes me.
OH, SHIT.
Be cool.
“Not that one. It’s in the water bottle pocket, gorgeous—”
“What the fuck?”
I turn from Gremlin to see Margot. My battered black backpack is in one of her hands, an assortment of silky and lacy fabrics in the other. She holds up the panties—her panties—the same way I’ve seen her show Gremlin a de-fluffed toy.
In my defense, the first pair she left at the haunt, Cinderella style, the night we met.
The second and third pairs were pure thievery, though.
The second snagged from her room while “helping” her pack for the convention, and the third plucked from her laundry when I was helpfully taking it to her room.
I’m not ashamed of my collection. However, I would have preferred to reveal it to Margot, not have her stumble upon it herself.
Presentation makes a world of difference.
“Um.” I tilt my head thoughtfully. “Looks like laundry?”
“For all of the kinks on my list, I don’t think having my underwear stolen was on there.
” She steps closer, radiant in her aggression.
“Have you ever heard of boundaries?” Beneath her snarl, though, an entirely different beast is waiting.
That wild part of her beckons me, whispering, Come closer. I bite, but you’ll like it.
Damn straight.
A smart man would have an excuse ready. A decent man would apologize when that excuse didn’t work. Nobody has ever called me smart or decent, and the next words out of my mouth prove why.
“I’m unfamiliar.” I move closer, grabbing the door frame with one hand, leaning in until I can smell her peach body spray. “Definitely going to need you to teach me. If you really want me to learn my lesson, you’d better sit on my face while you tell me.”
A delicious, indignant sound escapes her. “Who does this?”
A man who cannot get enough of you.
“I do. And I will probably do it again.”
She blinks at me. “Wait, so panty stealing is an ongoing problem for you?”
Shit.
“I’ve never stolen anyone else’s.” Hopefully, she can tell it’s the truth. “I like having yours, though. Like knowing they were between your legs, covering your needy little pussy.”
She narrows her eyes, fidgeting slightly. “It’s not needy.”
“Trust me, that’s a needy pussy. Grabbed me so tight I didn’t think she was going to let me go.” I wonder if she realizes how she squares up instinctively, if she’s aware of her arms uncrossing, her upper body shifting toward me. “I bet she’s dripping for me right now.”
If her eyes roll any harder, I’m going to be chasing them down the hall. Still, there’s an energy coming off her that’s undermining the stern attitude she’s trying to maintain. This arouses her. The same way she was into me haunting her at the library.
“Am I wrong? You can tell me if I am. Tell me you aren’t squeezing your thighs together right now, wishing I were between them.”
“You owe me an apology.” The words are angry, but her tone…isn’t. It’s breathy, throaty, that of a woman who wants to be fucked within an inch of her life.
This would be a good time to beg for forgiveness.
Promise to rein in my obsession. But there’s no quelling this, so why would I try to pretend I can?
A little collecting is far from the reddest flag I have when it comes to my obsession with her.
Besides, Margot loves a challenge. If that challenge turns into a battle?
Even better. Despite that knowledge, I still get heart palpitations when I sweep my arm toward the doorway.
“Show me where you want to be wrecked, and I’ll give you the best fucking apology of your life. ”
Holding my breath, I watch her process, see the adorable little thinking wrinkle she gets between her eyebrows while my words register.
I see on her face when they do. The heat in her gaze, the way her teeth sink into her bottom lip.
Turning on her heel, she heads into the haunt.
The glance she throws me over her shoulder is the biggest challenge I’ve ever seen.
“Come on, then.”