Anders and I get into my car and make our way back to the little cabin.
As we park, I turn to Anders, finally able to say what I’ve been wanting to say all morning.
“Get inside and take off your clothes. I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”
17
Anders
To say I scrambled out of the car and into the cabin is an understatement. I broke land speed records. Omar had been low-level seething since that guy tossed me on my ass, and not even the irrepressibly weird sweetness of my parents could blunt the fire in his eyes.
We aren’t two seconds in the door when he slams it shut and whirls me around, arm-barring my chest as he pins me against the solid wood.
“What the fuck was that this morning?” he snarls. “Were you trying to get your ass killed?”
I test the strength of his hold, and fuck, he’s solid. So goddamned solid. “He was stronger than he looked.”
“The fuck? No one is stronger than a bullet to the brain. Why do you insist on doing things the hard way?”
I breathe deeply, watching his arm rise against my chest, unable to help the smirk playing with the corner of my lips. Hooking my leg behind his knee, I take his legs out from under him, crashing us to the ground.
“Because it’s fun,” I whisper breathlessly in his ear.
I grab his hands and shove them above his head, kissing him hard, meeting his erection with my own. Not hesitating for a second, Omar matches my energy, struggling against his raised arms, kissing me breathless as he punches his hips up.
One hand still holding his arms, I pull away, giving my lungs the oxygen they’ve been begging for. Omar easily breaks the hold and trails after me, growling from the broken contact. He wraps one hand around the back of my neck while gripping my hip with the other, pushing me onto my back as he rolls those insane hips, controlling the kiss.
“You almost fucking died because you wanted to kill him with your bare hands. Did you even consider what I’d have to do if you died?”
If he thinks he’s going to take the lead here, or somehow guilt me into just shooting people in the head, he’s lost his fucking mind. I roll us halfway over and get to my knees, then to my feet.
Omar rolls up into a crouch and launches at me, slamming me into a wall as he brings his leg between my thighs. His mouth is on mine, and his tongue plunders my every brain cell before he moves down my chin and neck, laying bites—hard bites—along my collarbone. He rucks up my shirt and…oh, fuck, my nipples.
I inhale sharply, and he pulls back immediately.
“S-sorry. Got a little carried away. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
I rip my shirt off and gesture to the angry teeth marks around my nipple, raising my eyebrow. “Nobody told you to stop, darlin’,” I say as I whirl him against the wall and in turn rip off his shirt.
Holy hell. I damn near drool over the dark chest hair and treasure trail over rippling abs. Shaking my head, I drag his head to my nipple. “Bite and suck.”
He immediately does as I order, but I’ve made a tactical error. The nipple play renders me distracted, and I barely realize that he’s walking me backward until the back of my knees hit the mattress. My arms windmill as I lose my balance and fall ass-first into the bed.
Using my unsteady momentum, he slams me down onto the bed, landing on top of me in an aggressive grind. Now that he has full control over me, he begins to kiss and suck and lick my throat, my Adam’s apple, and his groans propel my hips up.
I whisper rough into his ear, “You gonna be my bottom bitch? You gonna take this thick cock? I know you’ll like it.”
A dark protest rumbles up from his throat. Grabbing my hands, he forces my arms back to the bed, pinning my forearms with his. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To fuck me?”
I nod, smirking as I tip my hips this way and that, trying not to come from the slide of his dick against mine.
“If you want it, you’re gonna have to wrestle me for it,” he says, a dangerous smile on his face.
I finally get him off-balance enough to punch my hips up and tip him over, unseating him.
“Whaddya think I’ve been doing this whole time?” I ask, biting his lip.
Stealing his move, I use a forearm bar against his upper chest, spreading my knees between his legs, opening them for me as I grind my erection into him once again. His back arches and he lets out a groan I know isn’t voluntary. I wrestle his hands above his head and into my grip, then use my other hand to rip down his jeans and boxer-briefs, freeing his glorious cock.
