Penny glances over her shoulder at me and shrugs. "Let's get this over with."
A growl builds in my throat. This is exactly the thing I’m aiming to avoid by not fucking her. I'm not a damn chore. Time to change my strategy again, it seems. I seize her upper arms before she can reach down to strip off the skater dress—a shade of purple this time that matches that bra and panty set she wore here—and I drag her into my chest. Before she even formulates a protest, my hand finds its way into her hair. It's soft and slides easily between my fingers. I twist them at her nape, dragging her inexorably toward me.
A moment of stunned realization flits across her face before my mouth crashes into hers. I back her in slow steps toward the bed, and she tips backward onto it when her knees hit the edge. I fall with her, coming to rest on top of her, elbow crooked just above her head to keep the worst of my weight off of her. As tough as she appears, my bulk would still crush her flat. I know I shouldn't give a fuck about her comfort. She's a means to an end, a lure to get Kase and Cruz to come over the line and face me. If I'm exceptionally lucky, Kase might bring Brooklyn within arm's reach, and I can assure her safety in my household once again.
But for some fucking reason, I do care. And if I force myself on her, I'm little better than the bastard who sired her.
I grind my hips into hers, even as I hungrily devour that warm, spicy mouth of hers. God, she tastes good all over. How the fuck is that fair? I half-expect her to quail beneath the evidence of my arousal, realizing just how easy it would be for me to lift her skirt and slide into the warmth of her pussy. The only barriers are a button, a zipper, and a painfully thin amount of cloth. But she doesn't shrink away from me or scream. What she does instead shocks the hell out of me.
Penelope groans into my mouth, lightly nipping my bottom lip even as her hips squirm, bringing the bulge into even closer proximity to her core. Even with a barrier between us, I can tell she's wet. She wraps those long legs around my waist and removes all space between us, grinding her pussy hard against my front.
She's not saying it in so many words, but it's the first indicator she's given that she wants this to go further. She wants me inside of her. I move my lips to her throat, nibbling a trail up to her ear, smirking when she bucks even more forcefully against me.
"All you have to do is ask, little Spade."
Penelope stills, and the fevered trance she seems consumed by dissipates. She blinks at me, as though seeing my face for the first time that night. Her jaw flexes, and that steely, stubborn denial slams back into place like an iron shutter. I almost groan. For fuck's sake.
"Not a fucking chance."
"Why the hell are you being so stubborn? I know you want this."
I dip two fingers into her core for emphasis. She's so fucking wet, and I'm dying to slide into that slick heat. It's been so long since I wanted a woman this badly. I can't remember having an obsession this heady since Trinity. That should scare me more than it does. She was never supposed to be more than a tool. But now I want her for more than the pleasure of fucking with her brothers, though that's still there. I want her. I want her surrender. I've worked damn hard for it, all things considered.
She shivers as I work my fingers into her slowly, giving her a taste of what she could have. Fingers are a poor substitution for my cock, and she knows it.
"You don't have to go to bed wanting," I coax, sliding my lips to the shell of her ear.
She shivers again, and she clenches tight around the fingers inside her. She cuts her head to the side in denial, but her body doesn't lie. She's trying to pull me in deeper with every shallow thrust. She squirms, hips shifting, delicious friction building between us. I could almost laugh at myself for enjoying it so much. God, when did I turn back into a teenager again? I haven't been this hard-up in a long time, and the last time I got into heavy petting like this, I was still a kid.
It brings me up a little short when I realize that comparatively; she is a kid. The same generation as my daughter, though a few years younger. She pulls me out of that little moment of realization when she fixes me with an accusatory stare.
"You could just ask, you know," she points out. "You can't fucking deny you want it."
She frees a hand and slides it down my front, tracing the musculature of my chest with long, slender fingers. I hiss out a breath between my teeth when she toys with and then slips her hand under my waistband. Her fingers close around my cock the next instant with firm, sure pressure. She's not a virgin, that's for damn sure. The girl has handled a cock or two before and knows just how a man wants it touched.
My fingers pump into her a little harder. I hate the idea of another man inside of her. Her fingers around his cock, him inside that perfect mouth of hers. Because I wasn't fucking kidding her when I told her I didn't share well.
"That's not the way the game works, and you know it, sweetheart. Ask me or get a good grip on the sheets. You know what comes next."
Penelope's eyes screw shut, and the tension floods out of her body. She lets out another shudder and releases my cock. I'm sure that she will say it. Her perfect, kiss-swollen lips part and...
"Get on with it, Gardel," she says in a tired voice. "I want to do something fucking productive with this night when you're through toying with me."
It hits like a slap to the face. What the fuck did she just say? After all that, she still says no? I want to shake her. I open my mouth, ready to demand she give me an explanation. I shut it and grind my teeth instead. I made the rules, and I'm sticking to them. She wants me? She'll have to fucking admit it first. I'm not like her father.
Instead, I take out my frustration on the skin of her throat, teasing her flesh until she's writhing under me again, enjoying the rough treatment. I'd just love to paddle her ass for this. I work my way down her body to her breasts, suckling each into hard peaks, using teeth and tongue until she's squealing. And when I finally work my way between her thighs, I show no fucking mercy. If she wants this, she can damn well have it.
Her fingers thread into my hair, and every cell in my body jolts like a live wire when she scrapes her nails across my scalp. All of it surges straight to my cock, which is actually physically painful. I will probably retire to the shower when I'm done and tug one out. Fucking Kylie or another of the working girls feels too much like giving up. I will fuck Penelope Cruz one day. I can wait.
She's dangling on the precipice of an orgasm when I discontinue suddenly. All movement in her body lurches to a stop, and she groans at the loss.
"Say my name," I demand.
She moans again, hand flying into her hair. "Finish it."
"Say my fucking name," I say, thrusting my fingers inside of her savagely once more, tracing the pad of my thumb across her clit, replacing my tongue for the time being. She lets out a soft whimper and tries to follow the pressure of my fingers, whimpering when she can't get it just where she wants it. "Say it, or I'm getting up this instant."
Give me something, woman, I snarl wordlessly.
