9. Paul
9
Paul
T he burn in Paul’s side could’ve been a thousand times worse if his reflexes weren’t as sharp. Harper had sliced into him, but it wasn’t too deep. He doubted it would even require stitches, but it got his blood pumping—and his dick hard. She was feisty, and he loved that she wouldn’t take this lying down.
She was just as much of a spitfire as he had anticipated.
Good.
She should put up a fight.
When he got within striking distance, she reached for his shoulders and lifted her knee. Twisting at the pelvis, he avoided a blow to the nuts but used the opportunity to grab her and throw her onto the bed.
Taking advantage of her disorientation, he climbed on top of her and pinned her with his weight, just as he did before. His balls were heavy, and his cock ached. His desire for her raced through his veins.
She struggled, bucking her hips and squirming. Her body was hot, her nipples were hard, and her cheeks were flushed. He’d put money on her pussy being slick as hell. It only made his need to be inside her grow more intense.
“Get off me,” she demanded through clenched teeth.
Like hell he would. Instead, he rolled his hips so his erection ground against her bare belly. He appreciated the fact that they hadn’t taken the time to get dressed after their last romp. It meant he could feel the softness of her skin and see the betrayal of her body against her words.
She said no with her lips, but everything else about her screamed yes. Such a beautiful creature. It was a damn fucking shame someone wanted to end her.
She narrowed her eyes as she stared into his. “How are you going—”
He swallowed her words by covering her mouth with his. Forcing her lips apart, he thrust his tongue into her warmth and groaned. Allowing his full weight onto her, he could feel her rapidly beating heart against his own.
Fuck.
Her teeth pressed into his tongue but didn’t quite bite. A warning, perhaps. Maybe even teasing.
Interesting .
The fight against his hold lessened. She wasn’t bucking as hard anymore. If anything, he’d swear she’d relented but didn’t quite submit to him yet.
Above her head, he brought her wrists together so he could hold them with one hand. With the other, he ran his fingers through her hair, down over her cheek, along her jaw, and eventually around her throat.
His palm rested against her windpipe, his thumb pressed against the rapid pulse of her jugular. He squeezed teasingly, though not enough to restrict anything. He only wanted to give her the sensation of pressure—to let her know he was in control.
Pulling back, he studied her flushed expression. “It’s fucking criminal that they want you dead,” he said between kisses along her collarbone.
“Who?” she asked breathily.
He wished he knew. Then maybe he could broker some sort of deal.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me .”
“Whoever you pissed off.”
She whimpered and wriggled against him. It made his dick throb.
He groaned. “I don’t want to kill you, Harper.”
“Then don’t.”
“If not me, someone else will,” he whispered into her ear before he took her lobe between his teeth gently.
“Why?” She shivered.
“Money mostly,” he said as he moved lower and nipped at her shoulder.
She inhaled sharply. “How much? I’ll pay it.”
Chuckling, he kissed northward. “You don’t have it.”
She shuddered when the heat of his breath hit her ear. “How do you know what I have?”
The challenge in her tone, despite her predicament, was one of the many reasons this woman had such a grip on him. She didn’t back down and would never surrender. He’d question where she got such resolve, and balls, but he knew. A woman raised among bikers couldn’t be meek. She had to be gritty, or she’d never have survived this long. Harper stared in the face of her executioner and demanded answers.
“I assure you, I know you have roughly twenty-five grand in savings with three hundred eighteen and some change in your checking,” he murmured.
She’d been involved with criminal organizations all her life. It was an insult to Paul’s intelligence to think he hadn’t done research on her before he showed up.
“It’s not enough,” he added.
The faintest of moans escaped her lips when he gave her a tighter, but brief squeeze of her neck. The shaft of his cock slid in his own precum along her belly. Between her thighs, the inferno told him she was just as turned on as he was.
Kinky .