I lock him in.
Fuck.
She's going to be engaged?
I need a minute. But I don't get to assess my feelings before the ray of sunshine walks into the office.
She's so fucking extraordinary, confident but a little unsure. Thinks she's pretty when she's incredibly fucking stunning.
"Hi," she says.
The last time I saw her, two hours ago, I told her I loved her, like a fucking idiot in the middle of the fucking street. That's not what I meant to say out loud. Did I forget she's a city girl? Howcould she possibly be happy here in Candy Creek with me for the rest of her life? She was always meant to go back to her world.
But I will have this.
I don't say anything. I just pull her into my arms, my lips crashing down on hers, tasting every part of her with possessive strokes, marking her. She kisses me back, clinging to me.
Somewhere at the back of my mind, I can hear the bastard's muffled voice coming from the cell. He's hysterical, throwing himself at the bars. Marlowe hears it too, but I distract her. I could so easily carry her into my office and fuck her there, but I want the bastard to see how she lets me touch her.
I pick her up and drop her onto the desk. She gasps at my roughness but doesn't stop me. She's wearing a long flared skirt, thankfully, and I hike the fabric up to her thighs, exposing her bare legs. I step between her parted thighs.
"What is that?" she asks, trying to figure out the banging sound.
But I kiss her again, taking her breath away until she's completely dependent on me. I leave bite marks down her throat. She tosses her head back, pulling at the hair on my nape, either trying to pull me off her when I bite too hard or pulling me closer when she needs more.
I have to make her come.
My hand travels up her thigh as I suck on a mouthful of flesh at her throat, determined to leave my mark on her—a fucking hickey—and I don't care.
She's so soft; she makes my calluses feel like they're touching velvet. My fingers slip into her panties, into her pussy. She's so wet she turns me into an animal.
I drag my fingers deep into her, then suck her juices off them—a taste to tide me over. My thumb glides over her clit while I penetrate her with my middle finger. She's going to come. So close. She reaches for my cock.
Fuck. All I want to do is come in her hand and watch her lick my cum up as she looks at me like she knows she belongs to me.
I fucking love it when she wraps one of her legs around me to pull me nearer, and the bastard can see it all. While I'm trying to make her come, she's trying to unbuckle my pants to put my cock inside her.
But another sound reaches her, and she slackens in my arms, wanting to peer around me, but I'm not ready to let her go. I bite her harder. Then a crash resonates through the office. I can't contain her any longer. The douche managed to slam the bed against the wall.
I lose her when she sees him. Shock pales her skin as she rights her clothes. I can't read the expression on her face now. She's closed up completely.
"Oh my god, Tony," she says.
"Do you love him?" I ask.
"What?"
"He's your fiancé, right?"
"It's a prearranged family thing; it means nothing. But I shouldn't have run away from home in the first place. Such a stupid way to do things. My god, Zephyr, let him out right now."
I don't move.
"Zephyr, release him at once. I have to go home and sort this out. Please."
I feel my cheeks ripple as I clench my jaw.
She's going home.
