Closing that fraction of an inch, I bite her pouty lip. “Tell me to fucking go, Tess.” I follow that with a soothing lick. Warning and enticement. “Last chance. Tell me you want him.”
She finally looks me in the eye again, that spellbinding mix of her fierceness and her vulnerability peering up at me as she shakes her head. Breath hitched, cheeks flushed, lashes fluttering. “I never loved him.”
Fuck it.
My mouth captures hers, and she opens for me, but it’s anything but a submissive tethering. She’s pissed that she can’t fight this, which only makes me crave her more. She’s arrogance and lust, vexation and cravings. Terror and beauty.
My irresistible Nightmare.
Our tongues entwine. Part battle. Part tango.
Rough and punishing and relentless.
The hard edges of my body mold to her soft curves as I hike her up to my hips and growl into her mouth, “You’re so goddamn infuriating.”
She scoffs against my lips, widening her thighs to accommodate me between them. “You’ve got some fucking nerve.”
I curl my hand around her throat, pinning her in place.
She fists my hair, yanking out my bun until my scalp stings, and my strands fall into a mussed curtain around us.
Her untamed spirit meets my unhinged hunger, stroke for ravenous stroke. It’s reckoning and retribution. An exhilarating penance.
Christ, she makes kissing feel like fucking. She’s everywhere.
Unable to control myself, I grind my hard dick against her pussy so she has no doubt what she’s doing to me. “I knew you’d fucking taste like this.”
“Like what?” she pants between breathless kisses, the flavor of chocolate and strawberries bursting inside my mouth.
She’s an aphrodisiac in the flesh.
Her hips rock in an unapologetic pursuit of friction that has both of us gasping and moaning.
“Like sex and sin and an all-consuming melody. Everything I crave.” I grab her wrists from behind my neck, clasp them in my hand, and hold them above her head, nipping at her lip so she can’t block out my words. “Like mine.”
She whimpers in return, such a sweet sound escaping from my brutal girl.
“Maddox,” she whispers, crashing her mouth to mine again.
Her gravelly, lust-drunk voice chanting my name has an electric current zipping through my balls and up my spine. I want to sink inside her and hear her say it, scream it, pant it, and purr it in every fucking position imaginable.
But not against the side of her parents’ garage at her sister’s engagement brunch.
Slowing us down, I pepper kisses along her neck and jaw and dainty earlobe, transfixed by the way she gravitates towardevery brush of my lips, searching for more. She’s so responsive. Her skin is flushed and pebbled with goose bumps, and I already know if I slipped my fingers beneath her dress, I’d find her wet and ready for me.
It takes every morsel of willpower inside me, but I finally release her hands, cradle her face, and rest my forehead against hers. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, but … one damn taste, baby girl.”
Never enough.
Those stunning eyes of hers that are often so jaded have an innocence to them as she melts into my touch, and, fuck, it unravels things inside me.
Until the screeching bark of her name severs everything between us.
“Tessa!”
“Shit,” she wheezes, dropping her legs and waving her hand in front of me. “Fix yourself.”
“Take a breath, Tess. We’re not kids who got caught making out in the back seat of a car. We’re grown-ass adults who were—”
