Chapter 50
fifty
If humiliation were a color, it would be a dark, horrific red. Mix that with the white-hot rage coursing through my veins, and you’ve got a hurricane of emotions ready to shoot out of my mouth like it’s a locked and loaded machine gun.
“Perfect. A storage room. Gimme a sec while I find something to stab you with!”
“If it’s anything sharper than that tongue of yours, then I guess I’m as good as dead, eh, Sunshine?”
Rage flows through my veins as I whirl and get in his face. “You left me alone to run off with Carrie!”
“Goddammit, Iz. How many times do I have to tell you? I’ve never been with her, not once! We’re friends, that’s it. Anything else you’ve seen is for publicity or tabloid bullshit,” he growls in my face.
At this point we’re practically nose-to-nose.
Whatever spark I felt out in the hall falls away as a literal snarl falls from my lips. “Fuck you and your fucking face, you egotistical, arrogant asshole! I wish you would—”
Hand shooting up to collar my neck, his mouth slams down on mine, and I instantly melt. Anger and frustration are at war with everything I’m trying not to feel until he suddenly pulls away.
Grip firm, he uses the heel of his hand to tilt my face up.
Eyes locked with mine, he runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he quirks an eyebrow.
“Unless you plan on finishing that sentence with, ‘Please lick my cunt until I come all over your face,’ the only scream I want to hear coming outta that smart ass mouth of yours is my name,” he growls, flexing his fingers before pressing them more firmly into my flesh. “You got that, Sunshine?”
His voice, low and deep, vibrates over my skin in a way that makes me lose all coherent thought. This is a side of Rowan I’ve never seen before and fuck if my pussy isn’t pulsing for it.
“Yes,” I breathe.
Mouth descending again, he devours mine, sucking every molecule of air from my lungs. My bones melt into unadulterated bliss as his tongue slides over my bottom lip right before he gives it a quick nip, turning my legs into jelly, my pulse thumping wildly between my legs.
He breaks the kiss, gaze smoldering. “Now. Let’s get the fuck out of here so I can prove to you just how ‘not into’ Carrie Southern I really am.”
Grabbing my hand, he yanks open the door. Half-walking, half-running down the hall, Rowan pulls out his phone to text with the other.
“Who are you texting?”
“Limo driver. Gonna have him meet us out back.”
As promised, the car is waiting patiently for us when we rush out the back door and into the night air.
Heart racing, I can just make out hints of the Pacific Ocean floating in the air as Rowan opens the car door and we scramble across the seats.
“Home,” he commands the driver before jabbing a button, raising the partition.
As soon as we’re sealed off from prying eyes, he’s on me again, lips soft, mouth hot as he takes control. I melt into him, all the fight draining out of me as his hands slide over my bare back.
“Do you have any idea,” he rumbles against my neck, “how fucking gorgeous you look tonight? I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I manage to gasp as his teeth graze my collarbone.
He pulls back just enough to look at me.
Hazel eyes burn with intensity as his fingers trace the line of my jaw, sending shivers down my spine. “I don’t want her. I never have. We’re just friends and that’s all we’ll ever be. You believe me, don’t you?”
My breath catches in my throat. “I…”
“Tell me you believe me,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against mine. “Tell me you want me. Just me.”
“I believe you. It’s always been you, Ro. Only you.”
We’ve barely come to a stop before he’s is dragging me out of the back of the limo, up the steps and into his house.
The instant the door slams behind us, we’re all over each other.
Rough hands slide up under my dress. When he lifts me up, my legs immediately wrap around his waist as I rake my hands through his hair.
His mouth scorches against mine, tongue sliding along my bottom lip before he delves in deep.
The fabric of my dress bunches around my hips as his hands grip my thighs.
“Fuck, Lizzy. You’ve always been an itch I can’t scratch,” he growls against my neck. “No matter how deep I dig my nails under my skin, you’re always there. A permanent part of me.”
I tug his hair, forcing his head back so I can look into his eyes. His pupils are blown so wide, they’re nearly black with desire as I search his face. “You truly mean that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
In one fluid motion, he spins us around and carries me up the stairs. Breasts smashed against his chest, his lips never leave my skin as we climb. I can feel how rock hard he is through his pants, pressing insistently against my core.
When we reach the bedroom—his bedroom, I realize with a start—he sets me gently on my feet. The room is bathed in moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything, including him, in a silvery glow.
A king-sized bed dominates the center of the room, its slate gray upholstered headboard spanning half the wall.
Sheets, crisp and white with the faintest hint of a pattern that look like they cost more than my monthly rent, are pulled taut across the mattress with a fluffy dark green duvet resting on top.
“Turn around,” he commands, voice husky.
Breathless, I obey, heart hammering as his fingers find the short, hidden zipper of my dress. He draws it down slowly, lips following the path of my spine over my exposed skin. The dress pools at my feet, leaving me standing in nothing but a lacy black thong and heels.
“Hell,” he breathes, hands skimming my sides. “Perfect. You’ve always been so perfect, Iz.”
Warm breath tickles the back of my neck. Every muscle in my body constricts as his spicy masculine scent rolls over me, making my thighs squeeze together.
Gripping my arms, he spins me around. When his head dips and his mouth takes mine, my entire world bursts into flames. Flames that burn their way past my lips and into my heart, igniting my fractured soul.
I cling to his taut, muscular shoulders for dear life as his hand splays against the middle of my back, bending me backward so he can trail his lips across my collarbone and down to my breasts.
Hyper-aware of every graze of his lips and the way he’s rubbing his impressive length against my lower belly, I groan.
The noise seems to knock him back into the moment, because he sucks in a breath, baring his teeth in a crooked smile. Eyes dark and hungry he uses his whole body to walk me backwards toward the bed.
God, he’s so hot. Otherworldly hot. Mind-blowingly hot.
My core pulses, and I suck in a shattered breath when his fingers, soft as a whisper, curl around my neck.
His thumb brushes gently over my pulse point, making it jump wildly under his touch. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble vibrating over my skin. “Having you in my bed. Naked. Writhing. Panting beneath me.”
No other man has had this much of an effect on my body. Parts of me I never would’ve thought could clench and pulse, flutter wildly.
The back of my knees brush the edge of the mattress. Moonlight casts half his face in shadow. Wide-eyed and breathless, I can still see the fire in his eyes as he drinks me in, my mind going a gazillion miles per hour.
“Get naked,” I whisper, reaching for his belt.
He catches my wrists, bringing my fingers to his lips. “Patience, Sunshine. Get on the bed.”
I crawl onto the bed on my hands and knees, taking a brief look over my shoulder as I do.
Thrill courses through my veins when I see Rowan’s heated gaze trained on my ass as he slowly, deliberately, shrugs out of his jacket before tossing it onto a nearby chair.
Once I’m on my back, I slowly spread my legs and slide my arms above my head, stretching languidly as we hold each other’s gaze.
Eyes locked with mine, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of tanned skin and toned muscle. When he pulls it free from his waistband and lets it fall to the floor, my pulse ratchets.
Forearms flexing, the tribal sun tattoo on his chest appears to pulse with life and my thoughts scatter as he starts to stroke himself over his pants.
“What are you thinking right now?” he asks, the corner of his mouth lifting into that infuriating smirk I use to hate, but have come to love.
Love. I love him. Holy shit. I still love him.
Shoving the shocking realization aside, I focus on giving him what I know he wants.
“That I want you to get your hot as hell ass over here and fuck the shit outta me,” I reply casually, despite the fact that I’m practically naked, squirming and panting for him.
His chuckle is a low, almost a feral growl as he shoves his pants and boxer briefs off and onto the floor.
My breath catches in my throat as he stands before me in all his naked glory. Jesus Christ, he’s magnificent—every inch of him sculpted to perfection. His cock, thick and hard, juts up proudly, head glistening with pre-cum.
The mattress dips as he places one knee on the bed. Gripping my ankle, he slowly removes my shoes, one at a time, dropping them to the floor.
My heart hammers as he slowly, deliberately, crawls up my body, until his powerful forearms bracket my ribs.
Thumbs grazing back and forth over the sides of my breasts, he hovers above me, not saying a word as he drinks me in. The weight of his gaze is almost palpable—as if he’s committing every inch of me to memory. I feel exposed, vulnerable, but oh so powerful under his heated gaze.
When I reach out to touch him, he catches my wrists, pinning them firmly above my head with one large hand.
“Let me look at you,” he murmurs, voice gruff.
Using his free hand, it travels down my throat, over my collarbone, between my breasts. I arch into him, desperate for more, but he takes his time, fingertips trailing fire across my skin.
Lowering his head, he sucks my nipple into his mouth, hard, teeth grazing my skin in the most delicious way as his fingers move even lower.
They skim over my stomach and I suck in a breath, muscles contracting, stomach caving under his touch. After a moment, my brain somehow registers that he’s tracing patterns, drawing what feels like invisible infinity symbols on my skin. His expression is intense, focused.
“Rowan,” I plead, squirming.
Gaze flicking up, he continues his silent exploration. “Be quiet and keep still. Can you do that for me my sunshine girl? Or am I gonna have to tie you up?”
Tie me up!? Hot damn. Who is this feral man?
I’m doing everything in my power to do as he said. But when his thumb brushes over the lace of my panties, it makes me gasp and jerk my hips.
The corner of his mouth quirks as he traces up the length of my slit over my panties, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide how wet I am for him.
When he presses his thumb firmly against my clit, I cry out, throwing my head back against the pillows.
“Fuck,” I whimper, trying to wrench my hands free from his grip.
But it’s no use.
He circles my clit slowly, deliberately, watching my reaction with burning intensity. My hips buck against his hand, seeking more friction.
“Please,” I beg, not even sure what I’m asking for anymore. All I know now is that I need him inside me.
Releasing my hands, he hooks his fingers into the sides of my panties and drags them down my legs, leaving me fully exposed.
The hunger in his eyes makes me feel like the most desirable woman on earth. “Such a pretty, wet cunt,” he murmurs as he lowers his face between my thighs.
What happens next has me moaning. But that moan of pleasure breaks into an, “Oh, fuck!” when he shoves two fingers inside me.
The way his thick fingers stretch me as he pumps them in and out of my pussy has my legs wrapping around his head. His tongue licks a hot line through my folds before latching onto my clit, and it makes me scream.
“Unnggh!” My hands grip his hair tight as his tongue invades, swirling through every part of me.
He moans, the vibration sending shockwaves through my entire body.
Hips bucking wildly against his face, his strong arm pins me down, firmly holding me in place as he works me over. The dual sensation of his fingers pumping and his tongue flicking has me climbing toward release hella fast.
“Ro,” I pant, fisting the sheets as my legs squeeze his head. “I’m gonna—”
Without even a hint of warning, he removes both of his fingers and his mouth.
Next thing I know, he’s hovering above me, cock notched at my entrance.
“Hey! I was close!”
“Tell me again.”
After being deprived of the orgasm I was so close to having, it takes my sex-addled brain a few seconds to comprehend what he’s asking.
“Tell me, damn it.”
Then it hits me.
His eyes track my tongue as it slides across my bottom lip. “It’s always been you, Ro. Only you.”
With a heart-wrenching groan, he sheathes himself inside me in one, soul shattering stroke.