Chapter Eight #2
“No.” I touch his stubbled cheek. “I got on the back of your bike willingly and went to care for Consuela. I didn’t exactly fight you. I knew what had to be done.”
“I could have found another doctor.”
“Could you?”
He makes a strange growling sound.
“And would he have been as sexy as me?” I smile and reach for his towel. It needs to go.
“Scarlet.” He grabs both my wrists and hauls them above my head.
My torso elongates and my shoulders tug. His grip is tight.
“You have no idea what you’re asking for.” His body presses into mine.
“I know exactly what I want.” I glare at him. I hate it when people tell me what I want or think. Only I know that. “I always have and always will.”
“This time you’re mistaken. My world is dangerous, lawless, my hands are soaked in so much blood it will never come off.” I pause. “I made my first kill at seventeen. An asshole who was going to shoot me if I didn’t shoot him. Seventeen, Scarlet.”
“Survival.” Her jaw tenses. “I know about that.”
“I was in the middle of a goddamn shoot-out over drugs. That’s not the kind of guy you want to hook up with. I am not the type of man you need at your side.”
“What if I disagree?” I can’t deny what is in my heart. I am falling for this guy and that has to be acknowledged.
“I’d say you were stupid, but I know damn well you’re not.
You just have to open your eyes.” The blue in his irises flash like lightning.
“You need to see that I’m a killer. My past is dark, chaotic, I’ve left a shitload of wreckage behind me.
Know that as a truth, Scarlet. You should be damn scared of me right now.
” He kind of snarls and his nostrils flare.
I hold my own and speak my truth. I don’t recoil from his obvious anger and frustration.
“I know Billy would never have rescued me like you did today. Hell, he’d have watched the show like it was daytime entertainment.
And if I’d been set on fire, he’d have warmed his hands on my burning body, asshole. ”
He snarls and clasps my wrists in just one of his big hands and keeps me trapped. This position, being at his mercy, gives me a thrill I can’t explain. His broad chest touches mine as he breathes and his cock is hard, pressing into me.
“I’ll kill anyone who ever tries to hurt you.” He cups my cheek. “You know that.”
“I do know that.” And boy, did I ever. “I’ve seen you in action.”
“I hate that ... that you saw me. I’m a fucking monster.”
“No, you did what had to be done.”
“You don’t believe that.” He frowns. “I know you don’t.”
“Some people deserve to be in hell. That man you killed today did.”
He leans closer, so his lips are almost touching mine. “I’m one of those people too.”
“No. That’s not true.” I tip my head forward and kiss him. I hate that he thinks that about himself.
He groans and kisses me back. Instantly taking control of the kiss and searching for my tongue. His hand slides from my face to my chest and he cups my left breast, squeezes.
I groan as lust pours into my system. This man makes my body react in a way no one else has ever done.
His hand slips lower and then he shoves it down into my sweats. I moan and part my legs as he presses between my thighs. I’m at his mercy. He can do what he wants with me. I trust him in a way I haven’t trusted any man for a long time.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmurs and finds my entrance. He pushes in, fully, two thick fingers, and the heel of his hand catches on my clit.
“Oh...” My knees shake and weaken but his grip on my wrists keeps me harnessed against the wall.
“I’ll give you this but then you need to see sense.”
“I am seeing sense.” I shift up the wall as he fucks me with his fingers—sharp, satisfying thrusts that heat my skin and curl my toes.
“I’m not the man for you,” he says onto my cheek, his breath hot. “I’m not good enough for you.”
“You are ... oh ... oh ... yes...” How can he say that when he has me racing toward orgasm within just a few moments of fingering me? “Reaper. You are good enough for me.”
He keeps going. It’s almost violent the way he’s fucking me with his hand. It is as though he has a savage need to show me who he is at his very core. I let my body go slack in his grip. He has me. I know that. And I want to experience what he is at his core.
“This isn’t what you really want,” he growls into my ear. “It’s just an illusion.”
“Oh ... oh, I’m coming.” And that was no illusion. It was careening toward me at speed. The pressure so big and bright it was about to overspill.
He pulls his face back and stares into my eyes. I topple into ecstasy and hold his gaze. Bliss captures me and I pulse against the wall, my pussy spasming and weeping around his fingers. I grind onto the heel of his hand, my throbbing clit sending bliss up and around my body.
“Jesus, give me strength,” he mutters.
Suddenly he releases my wrists and pulls his fingers from me. The next thing I know my sweats have been yanked off, his towel is gone, and he’s lifting me up the wall.
“You’re gonna come again,” he says, angling his cock at my entrance.
I’m panting and my heart is racing. I wrap my legs around his waist and cling to his shoulders.
“Get ready for it.” He drives into me.
I cry out, it’s so good, so dense, so fucking hot.
He barely pauses at full depth and pulls almost out. Then he’s charging in again, the thrust of his hips grinding his body against my clit and knocking air from my lungs.
He grunts and repeats the action. Fucks me with a wild desperation that soon has me on the edge of ecstasy again. I rake my hands into his thick hair and lock my ankles. I’m consumed by him, I’m on his rough ride to satisfaction.
“Hell, yeah ... fucking ... oh, God...” He closes his eyes tight, little lines shooting to his temples and his neck muscles are taut.
And then he stays buried deep, throbbing, coming, releasing.
I join him and more waves of pleasure crest and pulse in my very core. I shake against him, our skin sweat-damp and our breaths colliding.
He kisses me, his nose banging mine. I hold him tight, not wanting to let go until I can convince him he’s a good brave man who is worthy of love and happiness.