As if she could break the connection.
Not until I was finished with her.
After pulling the tender tissue between my teeth, I bit down, grinning inwardly when she cried out in pain. My visions turned darker, filthier. The thought of marking her as mine entered my mind.
Not possible, but it didn’t mean the desire wasn’t there.
I lifted my head as well as hers. Now we were both panting.
“Oh…” Every time she moaned, I was captivated by the sound.
We remained locked together, rocking until the chair started to creak. The feel of my cock being so deeply inside was pushing me to an edge, the need to erupt into her sweet pussy all I could think about. With her head tipped upward, I was able to catch her heated expression. Just the way her eyelids were fluttering, her long lashes skimming her rosy cheeks could keep me enthralled for hours.
But the feel of her muscles clamping around me kept my attention rapt.
“So wet for me. Aren’t you? So damn hot.” I could barely say the words. The sound was husky, primal in every way.
My cock continued to throb, my balls so damn tight my pulse raced. I slowed my pace, trying to keep control of myself and my actions. That was becoming increasingly impossible.
When she jerked, another series of whimpers floating into the air and every muscle in her body flinching, I pumped harder and faster. A climax rolled through her and I became a true savage, thrusting harder, brutally to the point I was certain I was hurting her.
She didn’t seem to care, meeting every hard thrust while her lips twisted in rapture and frustration. Still transfixed, I allowed the moment to continue until she slowly eased back down from the intense high, now taking gasping breaths.
My God, the woman was so damn beautiful, I was lost in the vision for a few seconds.
But I couldn’t hold back any longer, the need too intense.
Her eyes were slightly dilated and she squeezed her knees against me once again, riding me in slow and deliberate motions.
There was nothing like the feel of her walls contracting around my shaft. With every muscle in my body as tense as hers, I pumped long and hard.
Until I couldn’t take it any longer, finally allowing myself the release I likely didn’t deserve.
She was too innocent, too sweet.
And I was far too brutal.
CHAPTER 7
Sinclair
The art of interrogation.
I’d become damn good at it over the years, even more so than Alexander or my other two brothers. With Alexander, the person on the receiving end of the heated conversation rarely survived past ten minutes. At least I was somewhat more resourceful, utilizing anticipation of what could or in most cases would eventually happen if they didn’t talk.
Whoever this asshole was, he certainly didn’t seem eager to talk.
But a thief was a thief.
Maybe the hours spent suffering had provided him with a change of heart.
Those who knew me well realized I channeled various attributes, complex sides to me that usually allowed me to keep an edge. The switch from one to the other was often without provocation.
Terms used had been around, everything from playboy to intellectual entrepreneur. The lifestyle I lived could certainly provide proof of both. I was usually the one sent to handle situations in other states and countries, which had afforded me the luxury of experiencing different cultures.
Liars. Rats. Thieves.
I hated all three, but when someone had the fucking audacity to steal from my family’s empire, there was no redemption possible. The person would pay a severe price.
