Maybe nothing at all.
The thought makes my vision blur.
“I want to hurt him,” she whispers, leaning in until her lips brush my jaw. “Help me hurt him, Gabriel.”
Ryder.
Always fucking Ryder.
My jaw clenches so hard I hear a crack. I hate that his name is in her mouth. I hate that he’s the reason she’s here.
But I’ll take it. For now.
“Forget him,” I command.
I slide my hand up her thigh. Her skin is fire. Soft, smooth, burning. My palm is rough against her and she shivers.
I find the hem of her panties. They’re lace. Flimsy.
I hook a finger under the fabric and drag it to the side.
She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders, and she’s so fucking wet she’s slick against my fingers.
Triumph roars in my ears.
She can say this is about revenge all she wants. She can lie to herself. She can lie to me. But her body? Her body is telling the truth.
She wants this. She wantsme.
“You’re soaking,” I murmur against her neck, inhaling the scent of her arousal. It’s intoxicating. Better than the scotch sitting on the table. Better than the money in my bank account. “Is this for revenge? Or is this because you’ve been wondering what it would be like to be with a real man instead of a boy?”
She shudders, her hips seeking the pressure of my hand. “Gabriel…”
“Say it.”
I rub my thumb over her clit, slick and swollen.
Her head falls back, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat. I want to bite her. I want to mark her so deep the bruise lasts for weeks. I want Ryder to see it at Christmas dinner and know exactly whose mouth put it there.
“I want you,” she sobs out.
That’s it.
My willpower shatters.
I reach down between us with my free hand and work my zipper. I free myself, the cool air hitting my skin for a fraction of a second before I’m lining myself up.
“Look at me,” I order.
She drags her eyes open. They’re blown wide, dark with lust and confusion.
"I’m going to ruin you," I warn her. Ipromiseher. "After tonight, you are never going to be able to look at another man without wishing he was me."
I grip her hips and lift her.
She whimpers, desperate, trying to impale herself on me.
But I don’t let her.
