She sets a borderline-psychotic glare on me. Maybe this is what Jax meant when he said we should bond over our crazy. Either way, I find her sudden heart for humanity adorable.
“Fine,” I concede. “If the witness is a Betty White type, I’ll send her to Aruba to sunbathe until her time in an urn arrives, but …” I trail off for a beat, swiping my cock against her opening with an arched brow. It’s impossible to focus with her unholy body pressed against me.
Her voice trembles with need, reading my unspoken query. “It’s been a while for me. I’m clean and on birth control, but if you—”
“I’m clean. It’s been months for me too. Since before Ryker and Mercy’s wedding.”
She rolls her lips in, unable to dismiss the weight of that statement. We danced that night. She didn’t want to, but we got pushed together, and she was making nice for Mercy. It was three minutes, tops, but her tropical fragrance was on me for the rest of the evening. In the months that followed, despite all the reasons I shouldn’t pursue her, I couldn’t find interest in anyone else.
“Let me fuck you bare, Nightmare. I want you to feel what you do to me while your screams echo throughout the city.”
Her breath whooshes, composure long gone. “Yeah. Do that.”
MADDOX
Asoft chuckle escapes me before I push us toward the cushioned headrest across from us so her back doesn’t suffer. And once we land, I line myself up and drive inside her.
It takes about thirty seconds to get my bearings, and her sultry moans don’t help matters, nor does her heat, spasming around my length.
“Christ, I’ve never felt anything … not like … so tight and wet.” I’m reduced to gibberish and nearly blind from ecstasy.
I shift us slightly so the jet near her lower back hits right at her ass, and she loses it, clamping down on my dick, which propels me to drape her legs over my bent elbows, piston my hips, and inform her things are changing.
“I’m moving you in here.”
“No, you’re not.” She balks, her lashes fluttering as she attempts to battle the sensations to form a rebuttal. “I cannot live at La Lune Noire.”
I pause my rhythm andslowlyswirl her clit, knowing the lack of adequate friction will rankle her. “You can, and you will. I’ll give you your own suite. Or maybe not. The penthouse wouldbe better. You’d have me, Mercy, and all my brothers.” To sell my final point, I plunge into her with a punishing thrust. “That’s your goddamn inner circle.”
She whimpers, muttering nonsensical musings, likemoreandharderandfeels so good, while dragging her nails down my arms to etch me with streaks of her ire. “We have these nice moments, and then you open your fucking mouth and remind me how unhinged you are.”
The sting on my soaked flesh only enlivens me. It’s a testament to how much she’s in this. Tessa is peeved but indifferent when she doesn’t care. Passionate when she does.
“You didn’t seem to fucking mind when I had that unhinged mouth on your pretty shaved pussy.”
Prettyis the understatement of the century. Smooth and pink, wet and responsive. A divine delicacy.
“I just told you I was going to fix things with my family. That won’t work if I’m living here,” she snipes, gripping my shoulders and climbing me like a wicked spider monkey—either to deepen my position inside her or to drown me.
I’m up for either.
It takes everything in me to tamp down the laugh bubbling up in my throat as she knocks me backward into the middle of the hot tub. Water sloshes, the center floor jet gusts up between our legs, and my balance falters when she rocks her hips and groans like a thunderclap, creating the perfect storm.
We dunk beneath the surface, clinging to one another in a heap of tangled limbs while never losing our rhythm. My girl is voracious, even when she’s seething. Maybe more so. She gyrates her hips, and I plunge into her, pressing my foot against the hot-tub wall to secure one vicious thrust after another. Hydro-aerobics at its finest.
Her hair drifts and sways and sparkles from the moonlight, and she coils herself around me like I’m her life preserver. Itsteals my breath far more than being submerged, but it also fuels my frustration. After about twenty or thirty seconds, I push off the bottom, and we breach the surface. The splish-splosh of us reemerging is nearly deafening as we both suck in air and wipe the beads of our dip away.
“Interesting.” I smirk to really goad her, even though my retort is dead serious. “Earlier, you said you live your life on your terms and keep your door open for them. But apparently, you’ll slam the door in my face, sacrifice something undeniably great, and put yourself in danger in the process.”
She halts her movements, her inner walls pulsating around my shaft and her blues both savage and imploring. “You can’t use it conveniently. Either there’s no issue for me or there is. You don’t get to just fling the danger angle when it suits you.”
Everything that comes out of her mouth holds this profound weight to it, like she’s unveiling who she is, one word at a time. She’s terrified of being manipulated.
“You want the truth, Tess?” I trump her refusal to move, stand with her wrapped around me, and drive deeper inside her to emphasize my point. “I’m doing my damnedest to keep you out of it. But I won’t be careless. If they find out, they are the kind of people who would hunt you down. I want you here for several reasons, but that is one of them. We can worry about your mother’s reaction later. I think she’d be more upset, attending your funeral.”
That’s harsh, but necessary.
“This … this is …” she stammers, unable to manage her objection because she’s too wrecked by every caress, but I hear it anyway.
