“You care about me?” he scoffs. “You barely know me.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything? I can care about someone I just met, or someone who I’ve been around nearly every hour of every day for the last week. Who rescued me from a jackass vamp and who is protecting me now. So, fuck you. Don’t make yourself feel better by saying that we haven’t known each other long enough. If you didn’t care about me, then you wouldn’t be pushing me away. You’d have already put your dick in me like you do to other women.”
He takes a step forward, then stops. Rage glows in his eyes.
“See. Coward.” I nod my head in his direction, then turn to leave.
I don’t hear him coming. I only feel his hand on my wrist, grabbing me and turning me around.
“I’m not a coward,” he seethes, breathing on my neck. “You want me to fuck you, little fae? Do you want me to press my cock so deep inside of you that you can taste it on your tongue?”
“Not anymore.” I try to lie convincingly.
He chuckles, “I know you’re lying, little fae. I can smell your arousal, and I’m fairly certain if I slipped my hand into your pants, I’d feel how wet you are for me.”
“Try it and I’ll break your damn fingers,” I spit back.
“Before or after you let me get you off?”
I should move. I should get away. But I can’t. I’m glued to this spot, needing to feel him. Wanting to feel him.
He leans in and plants his lips softly on my neck and I lean to the side, giving him more access. He chuckles as he sucks my skin in hard. Pain quickly turns to pleasure as his hand slips under my shirt and around my waist, holding me in place.
“Tell me to stop, little fae.”
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but my mouth doesn’t move.
“Coward,” he whispers before he punishes my mouth with his kiss. My knees buckle as a moan eases itself out of my throat.
My hands run up his chiseled abs, up to his pecs before I grab his shoulders and pull him towards me, pressing my body against him.
“Fuck me, Jax.”
He pulls out of the kiss, lips still touching mine, and smiles. “Now you want me to?” He pulls back, drops his hand from under my shirt, and stares at me.
“You fucking asshole.”
“Because I had to prove a point?”
“Yes!”
His smile is mirthless. “I’m not fucking you. I’ve already told you.”
“Fine. Then I will just get myself off while you watch.”
“Everlee,” he growls, and his eyes flash again.
Seeing that fills me with such joy that I feel like I’m about to explode. If he wants to fuck around, then so can I.
I slip out of my shirt and pull down my pants. Lately, I’ve been opting for no panties or bra, because why? Knowing good and goddamn well I can’t stand and have an orgasm without collapsing into a messy goop on the floor, I lay down and spread my legs in front of him.
“Everlee,” he hisses.
Ignoring him, my left hand snakes up my body, rubbing over my breast and rubs my nipple between my finger and thumb. For good measure, I throw out a groan and arch my back while my right hand slides down my body and dips between my legs. “Oh, I guess I was wet. Very, very wet,” I say, looking at him and blinking slowly.
Because that’s always sexy. Nothing sexier than the ye ol’ slow blink. But one must practice the blink, which I have done. Too fast and it’s not sexy, too slow and it will look like you’ve ingested toad’s tongue poison or something equally bad and are falling asleep.
“You need to stop.”
