Wraith slaps a hand on the wall beside my head to steady himself. He dives for my panties with the other. I haven’t forgotten Jester’s downstairs, and I try to pull his hand away, but he braces his legs and shakes his head.
“Relax.” His lazy smile gains him a victory. I give myself over to him, putting myself in his hands. I trust him, and he knows it, the arrogant bastard. “There’s my girl. There’s my Jamie.”
He keeps his hungry gaze fixed on mine as he glides a finger along the waistband of my underwear. My plain underwear that have no business being part of this illicit encounter. But here they are, being stretched away from my body. And oh my God, when Wraith dips below that durable elastic, I almost come undone in his arms. He knows exactly where to touch me. How to touch me. And all I can do is grip his shoulders and hold on as he slides that talented finger along my slit. Teases my clit until I’m biting my lips to keep from crying out as waves of pleasure crash into me.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he growls against my lips.
“It’s your fault,” I accuse.
He slides into me, and I grind down on his hand. “Damn right it is.”
A second finger follows, and I lift up on my tiptoes to escape the stretch. But Wraith is ruthless. He forces me flatfooted as he fills me. Swallowing my moans as he rubs a spot deep inside me. Igniting a fire that burns almost too hot. The heat lifts me so high, I feel like I’m inches from the sun. Every muscle locks, and I come apart in his arms right there against the wall as he works magic using nothing more than two fingers. And when I think it’s over, he slips his hand out of my underwear and spins me around.
“Wraith, no.”
Shame is a bucket of ice water that extinguishes the inferno. I press my forehead against the wall and wait for the disgust I know is coming.
Wraith gathers my hair and traces each scar etched across my back, and when he’s done, he kisses the nape of my neck. “We match.”
I hitch in my breath on a tearless sob at his acceptance of the ugliest part of me.
A whip marred the smooth perfection of his back.
My father ruined mine with a leather belt.
Turning, I wrap my arms around Wraith’s neck and press my lips to his. But where my kiss is soft, Wraith turns it feral. A demand I can’t ignore as his hands explore my body. Every peak and valley, pulling breathy moans from me as I touch all of him, groping beneath his shirt to run my palms along his skin. Unbutton his jeans to reach inside his pants to stroke his length. But he rips his mouth from mine and glances away. Desire and fear intertwine when he clamps his hand around my throat. The frustration in his eyes matches my own, even as the hunger behind it electrifies me.
Wraith presses a finger to my breastbone. “Iwillfuck you, Jamie.” He moves away, and I shiver as a flood of cool air flows over me. “But not with an audience.”
He saunters back to his room, leaving me standing there confused and aching.
I turn my head to see Jester standing on the stairs, a slice of pizza in one hand and a beer in the other.
“That’s it? That’s the show?”
Right at that moment, I wish the floorboards would open so I could crawl beneath them to hide. “How long have you been there?”
He takes a bite of pizza. Chews. Shallows. “Long enough to get a proper hard-on.”
“Did it occur to you to do the polite thing and walk away?”
Jester shrugs. “Nah. House has bedrooms. Figured if you wanted privacy, you’d be in one of them.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “So, you stood there watching us?”
His crooked grin is arrogant but charming. “Some folks get off on it.”
“I’m not one of them. Our make-out session was spontaneous.”
“Look, if I see some sex happening, I’m rubbernecking. You’ve been warned.”
I give him an imperious glare. “You need to mind your business.”
“Oh, sweetheart, as long as you’re in Mayhem, youaremy business.” Then he continues on his way to his bedroom. “You’re hot when you’re deep in it, by the way, even in those granny panties.”
My dignity in shambles, I retreat to the guest bathroom to take that shower, and while I’m in there, I can’t help wondering what’s happening in Gomorrah. Chaos, most likely. David must be livid that his wife and favorite toy are gone. A normal person would worry I’ll spill secrets, but he’s too arrogant. He’s never regarded me as a threat on any real level. Or, if he does, he believes he’s built himself into an unstoppable and untouchable force.
The man’s a fool.
