I know what he’s doing.
He’s deliberately being nasty to get me to change my mind. Well, two can play dirty.
I lift my hips and grind my pussy against his erection,tsking. “Feel any balls there? No? I Didn’t think so. Just the courage I was born with. Well, that and my vagi—”
Havoc’s mouth slams down on mine, cutting off my cheeky retort. He pulls his hand from my throat and moves it to my leg. Scrapes his fingers up my thigh. He pins it there, grinding against my core. His length throbs through his sweatpants, sending a rush of moisture between my legs. It saturates my panties. I grab at his back, clawing at him, silently demanding more of him as my empty body clenches with need.
There’s nothing tender about his kiss. It’s possessive. Violent. He means to shock me. To scare me. I’m neither shocked nor frightened. Instead, I roll my hips to meet his thrusts. His growl reverberates through me as our tongues clash. And when he rips his mouth away, I whimper at the loss. He works at the flesh of my neck. Licking. Nibbling. I writhe beneath him, pleasure rocketing me as he takes cruel little bites.
But Havoc isn’t here for my pleasure. He’s here for my pain. When he inches farther down and nips at my breast through my shirt, I shoot up with a gasp.
I want to smack the sneer clean off his face.
“Don’t boast about things you don’t have, Duchess,” he snarls.
The snide bastard.
He means courage.
“Do it again.” I throw my head back and close my eyes. “I dare you.”
Havoc isn’t one to back down from a challenge, obviously. He palms my breast through my shirt. Rolls my nipple between his thumb and index finger. Soft at first. Achingly tender. Then shockingly rough. He squeezes it until I suck in a breath from the pain and snap my head to find him watching me, expecting me to demand he stop.
But I don’t because, oh God, it hurts so good.
This intense sensation has me questioning everything I know about myself. I was taught sex should be sweet and loving. Not angry and violent. Yet I’m lying beneath this man, drenched and aching, and with each purposeful tug on my nipple, a new wave of desire rips through me.
It makes me want more.
Much more.
Havoc moves to my other nipple, giving it the same brutal attention. Until tears well in my eyes and a cry falls from my lips. Only then does he stop and grab a fistful of my hair. He yanks my head back, and his furious, gorgeous face becomes my whole world.
“Don’t dare me, Duchess. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
I trace a finger along his hairline, down the side of his face, to his lower lip. Admire his stunning male beauty, so rugged and wild. “I’m not scared of you, Havoc.”
His eyes—those tragic brown eyes—burn me. “You should be.”
That’s all the warning I get. He kisses me savage, claiming my mouth with ownership that spins me out of control. I have to wrap my arms around his broad torso to anchor myself, his thick cords of muscle straining beneath my palms. He’s again proving his cruelty. But years spent trapped in Brighton’s gilded cage, of being forced to suffocate in its societal confines, have snapped something inside me. I grab his ass and press him harder to my core, thrust up to meet his erection. I swallow his moan and answer with a desperate whimper.
Too soon, his lips leave mine. I want to scream in frustration. Doesn’t he realize I’m not done kissing him? Oh, Lord. Never mind. Havoc lifts my shirt and I arch my back, my breasts an offering to his greedy mouth. He sucks at my nipples and grazes them with his teeth, just enough to send a warm frisson of fear sparking through me. His fingers are an exquisite tease inching lower, and I tense as his touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake over my already feverish flesh.
His lips tickle my belly when he kisses around my navel. Soft. Hesitant. A sharp contrast to the punishing way he took my mouth. Almost as ifhe’sthe one afraid. Terrified to break me. Scared I’ll push him away and run.
Joke is on him because I’m not going anywhere.
“Christ, Duchess, why do you have to be so fucking pretty?”
I let out a breathless laugh at his compliment and smile at him as I smooth away his serious expression. “I could ask the same of you.”
He shakes his head, clearly baffled by my opinion of him. “You’re insane.”
Okay, maybe Havocdoesn’trealize how handsome he is. Guess I’ll have to keep reminding him…
…after he’s done doing this thing with his tongue because…oh, myGod.
Havoc may be good at violence, but he’s equally talented when it comes to turning me on. Especially when he dips his hand inside my panties, and my first instinctisn’tto grab his wrist to stop him as I’d normally do.
