My body and mind are not on the same page.
Daegel’s lips are harsh, just as his hands are, as he pins my wrists behind my back and grips my hip so hard it hurts.
“Daegel—” I try, but my voice breaks.
I need a break. I need him to pause, to give me space to breathe.
This doesn’t feel right.
“This won’t fix anything,” I say against his mouth. “I fucking hate you right now.”
His eyes are dark and deep as the ocean in the night. “You know damn well you don’t hate me. You still love me. And you’re mine.”
He growls the last words, possessive and primal. There’s a new kind of darkness within him, one I haven’t seen before.
It scares me.
I gasp when he rips my leather jacket away. It flies through the room, and before I know it, he pushes me down onto the plush rug on the floor. He removes his leather jacket and then rips my pants off, too.
“Daegel,” I say, propping myself up on my elbows.
He doesn’t listen, consumed by the need to claim me. Roughly, he pushes my legs apart and settles between them.
His weight on top of me is familiar, and it makes my core tickle with the need. But the way he handles me sparks anxiety inside my chest.
It eases when he brings his lips to mine and kisses me as if he needs me just as much as he needs oxygen to live.
His fingertips trail down my shoulder and arm until he reaches my hand. Our fingers weave together and he pulls my hand up and pins it above my head. I arch my back, and my aching breasts push against his hard chest.
I hate the way my body reacts to him.
I don’t want this.
Not like that.
Without breaking the kiss, he finds my other hand and pins it above my head, too. My head is dizzy.
But I can’t help the resistance that rises inside me. So, once again, I catch his bottom lip between my teeth and nip it. With a hiss, he retreats.
Two hot-as-coal obsidian eyes pin me with a dangerous stare. “You’ll drive me out of my damn mind, princess.”
“You’re being an asshole right now.”
He plants a soft kiss on my neck, then grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin there. I try to pry my wrists from his hand, but his grip is ironclad.
“Don’t you dare leave a fucking mark,” I say, voice full of threat.
The tip of his hardness slides up and down my folds, and every time it glides over my clit, it sends a spark of pleasure up my spine.
My body betrays me.
Against my neck, he whispers, “Your body tells me you want this, even if you’re angry with me right now.”
I scoff. The sound is replaced with a gasp when he aligns the head of his cock to my opening and thrusts inside with force. My fingers curl around his hand, nails digging into the back of his palm.
I pant between his powerful thrusts.
Daegel releases a sound that’s a mix between a moan and a growl as he buries himself deep inside me, and then retreats almost to the very tip in one slow roll of his hips. My toes curl, the heat curling low in my stomach against the anger I feel in my chest.
