CHAPTER THIRTEEN #2
I hear a growl at this. It’s low and unmistakable, the growl of an animal when it’s poised to attack, and I have to clench my thighs and let it pass through me.
I have to tamp down my shivers because I like it.
I like how crazy protective he is. How insanely guarding.
I know if I told him to, he’d kill my father for me.
I know that. But this is for him. For his sake, not mine.
So I explain, “It’s just… it doesn’t make you happy, what you do”—I swallow, looking him in the eyes—“to those men. You do it because you’re angry.
You’re so angry, Radisson, and I don’t even know how you’ll ever not be angry after everything you told me, but…
” I have to swallow again to get control of my tears.
“But I want you to have a chance of that. Of not being angry. Of somehow, some way moving on. It controls your life, what happened to your family, what my father did, and… I want you to have some closure, do you understand? Some of the justice that you dole out for other people. And if that means killing my father, so be it. He’s destroyed too many lives.
He’s created too much misery and suffering.
He deserves whatever you’ll do to him, and you deserve peace. ”
His eyes are swirling over my features, swirling and swirling, a strange expression on his face. Strange because I can’t quite believe it’s there, not on him. A hint of tenderness as he mutters, “Fuck, she’s so fuckin’ sweet.”
His words are like a sucker punch and I ask again, “Can I please come to you now?”
Something flares in his eyes that makes my heart race and my skin hot. He shakes his head once and rasps, “No.”
“But—”
He glances down, at somewhere by my hip, and with my heart in my throat, I follow his gaze.
My knees shake at what I see. The skirt of my dress is stuck to the wall.
With knives on both sides. The ones he threw that went lower, that I didn’t bother to see, they’re pinning my dress, me, to the wall like a butterfly.
Like the prey I am. For a few seconds all I can do is stare at them in shock, those sharp gleaming objects skewering the fabric.
Then, a deep shiver of fear rolls through me, making me all cold.
Followed by a gush of wetness between my thighs, making me hot.
By the time I process what has happened, I’m flashing hot and cold and my breaths are haphazard.
It doesn’t help that in the next second, my hunter is on me.
He’s in my space and I’m breathing his air, his words as he rasps against my lips, “So fuckin’ sweet that I pin her to my wall for sport and my Princess gets wet for me.”
“I am…” I say shakily, clutching his shirt at his torso, “also very s-scared.”
His lips do the twitching thing again, making his scar ripple and look even more beautiful as he whispers, “That makes it even better.”
“I don’t think—”
“Scared and tremblin’,” he rumbles, letting his eyes wander over my face, pausing at my trembling mouth, the fluttering pulse on my neck, my heaving chest. “And so fuckin’ horny that I can smell her pussy.”
His name is a whimper on my lips.
And he looks up, his green eyes intense as he runs a rough finger down my blushing cheek. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I hiccup, unable to say anything at all.
“Wonder what she’ll do,” he muses, rubbing his thumb along my lower lip, “if I really bind her. Rope her like a runaway filly with a knot so tight that no matter what, she can’t get away from me.”
My belly whooshes and I twist his shirt. “Because it’s… all about the knot.”
His gaze seems to affirm that I remembered. “Yeah, it’s all about the knot.”
“You… It’s not just the cowboy thing, is it? The ropes.”
His eyes locked with mine, he shakes his head.
My heart slams in my chest as I blurt out the first thing in my head, “Have you ever… Before?”
He moves his thumb over my mouth, staring down at it, taking his time answering. And I have to say I don’t like that. I don’t like the sting of jealousy in my veins. As much as it scares me, being tied with a rope, I don’t like the idea of him doing it to someone else.
“Never met someone I wanted to pin down so bad. To use my ropes on.” Then, pulling my lip down, toying with it like he always seems to do, he adds, “Thought a lot about it, though. About meetin’ someone sweet enough to wanna capture.”
I shudder so hard at this that I bite the inside of my cheek.
I have to trap my moan in my throat because it was going to be so loud and embarrassing.
Although I shouldn’t have bothered because it’s not as if my reaction goes unnoticed.
Not when he’s around. And this time, his mouth pulls up in a smirk.
As always, tiny, but his very first and so freaking cocky and appealing that I shudder some more.
Before I can speak, though, I feel something. Down there.
I feel his hand creeping under my trapped dress, gliding up my thigh. “What are you… doing?”
Staring deep into my eyes, he answers, “Checkin’ to see where else you’re sweet.”
My hands fly over to his bare shoulders as my belly trembles. “I don’t…”
“You don’t what?” he prods when I simply trail off.
I lick my lips. “I don’t think you should do that.”
He stares at my mouth. “Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because you…” I dig my nails into his skin. “You don’t even like me.”
Again, his gaze seems almost amused as he shakes his head. “That ain’t the problem.”
“But—”
“What else?” he asks.
“Uh”—I swallow—“I-I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“So?”
“So we shouldn’t be doing this,” I say. “We shouldn’t… What happened before, at the cliff, it was a mistake, and I don’t think we should r-repeat that.”
Exactly. What happened between us was a giant mistake. I’m already too invested in him, too involved. He already makes my heart beat a certain way, and I don’t think getting more tangled up in him is a good idea. Especially when I won’t be seeing him after tonight.
He stares at me for a moment before asking, “What else?”
“So you agree?” I ask, my eyes going back and forth between his. “It was a mistake, right? We shouldn’t have done that. We’re… There’s too much between us, too much b-bad blood, and it just felt so good that I didn’t…”
“Want me to stop,” he says, picking up my thread.
And despite all better judgment, I shake my head. No, I do not want him to stop, and he doesn’t.
For the next several seconds, all we do is stare into each other’s eyes as he moves his hand down below.
His fingers slide up and up, rasping against my soft skin, and the silence is so thick, I think I can hear them move.
Somehow I can hear my thighs tremble, too, or maybe that’s just my breaths.
And then he reaches the seam of my panties and I go up on my tiptoes, my trapped dress pulling against my body, my nails digging even farther into his hot skin.
I’m drenched. There’s no two ways about it.
And he likes that. Of that there’s no doubt because as he rubs his thumb up and down the crotch of my soaked panties, his nostrils flare and his chest moves with a large breath.
It’s satisfaction, I know it. Even though on him, it looks savage and violent.
So utterly breathtaking. I open my mouth to say something, to break this tense, thick, charged silence between us, but I can’t think of any words.
I also want to look away from him because this is too intimate.
Staring into each other’s eyes, letting him watch and read every single emotion on my face as he explores me down there, under my dress, is too intense.
But I don’t know how to look away either.
A second later, I’m not thinking anything because his fingers are right there. On my pussy. On my bare pussy.
He’s moved my panties aside to get to my soaked core, and all I can do is blink.
And feel. I gasp at the first touch of his scraped fingers against me and he growls.
I pull at the sleeves of his vest, my eyes wide, and he runs his thick digits up and down, slowly, deliberately, as if trying to feel something exotic. Something he’s never felt before.
“Knew it,” he whispers thickly.
“Wh-what?”
“That the girl with the voice of an angel’s got a soft as fuck pussy.”
I blink again and swallow wordlessly as he keeps running his fingers down there.
“I pegged you right the very first time, didn’t I? You are a real princess.” He goes on, watching me, my eyes, “My Princess.”
“I’m not.”
“Sweet as fuck,” he continues, ignoring me, now brushing his calloused knuckles against my core, making me gasp again. “Hot as fuck.” Then, pausing to lick his lips, “Wet as fuck too.” His eyes narrow, possessiveness stark in the depths of them. “All for me.”
“Radisson, please, I—”
“Ain’t it?” he prods.
“I—”
His knuckles brush my clit then, making me flinch as he commands, “Say it. Say you’re my Princess.”
“I can’t be.” I shake my head. “My dad—”
“Fuck your daddy,” he growls.
“But—”
“Fuck him,” he growls again, flicking my clit. “And fuck everyone else. Fuck this whole fuckin’ world. Tell me you’re mine.”
Swallowing, I obey. “I’m y-yours.”
“My Princess,” he goes on.
“Yours.”
“My pussy.”
“Your p-pussy.”
He hums in satisfaction and brushes his knuckles over my clit again.
I can’t do it anymore. I close my eyes. It’s too much, too intense.
So, so good. I even let my head drop down to his chest. Or at least I try to, but he doesn’t let me.
While his one hand is busy down there, he grabs me by the jaw with the other and holds my limp neck up.
He leans closer to me, his chest grazing mine as he commands, “Eyes on me, darlin’. ”
I don’t want to do it, but they pop open without my say-so and I look into his.
The green in them has disappeared, has become engulfed by the black, and he really looks like a devil in the moment. Pressing his thumb against my jaw, he whispers, “You know I like to watch you, don’t you?”
“Yes.”