“Right,” I reply. Sable glances over at me, her eyes sparkling with delight. She’s trying to get a reaction out of me, but I just step between them, shouldering Kane into the wall as I pass.
Every muscle in my body is tight as I step into the kitchen. I flex my fingers and drag several slow, unsteady breaths, trying to calm the fire inside me.
I go to the pantry for some bread, then grab some cold cuts from the fridge, and when I turn around, I see Sable standing at the door.
She’s not wearing a bra, and the lace of her shirt perfectly clings to the flawless lines of her breasts. I bite my lip as my cock grows hard.
“Someone’s in a bad mood.” She smirks, needling me with her tone.
“Someone needs to put some clothes on,” I reply, averting my gaze. I grab a knife from the drawer and start spreading mustard on my bread.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see her stalking toward me, moving like a model on a runway.
“You don’t scare me.”
“Then you’re not very smart,” I reply, driving the knife into the counter. I let my eyes fall on her and see her looking back at me with something like amusement.
Sable Noir, the girl who shows no fear.
She may have been built to start wars, but I was built to finish them. And as she moves closer, the tension in my body builds. My heart rate quickens as the scent of her perfume reaches my nose.
“You really need to stop provoking me,” I growl, adding lettuce to my sandwich. Pressure coils inside me, blooming where I don’t want it right now.
“Why don’t you make me?”
A smile tries to break through, but I crush it into a scowl. Her beauty is staggering, especially up close. Lips that are just begging to be kissed…
…or wrapped around something I have that would split her in two.
Her shorts barely cover anything. I can see all of her thighs—sculpted and smooth—with barely just a tiny triangle of fabric hiding her pussy from me.
More blood pulses through my shaft, causing me to wince in pain.
“Get out of here, Sable,” I say, turning my back on her. To my surprise, she slips in front of me with the grace of a ballerina.
“Or what?” she asks. “You’ll run to Daddy and tell on me?”
That’s it. I’m done holding back.
I whirl, grab her arms with both hands, and slam her up against the wall. Her eyes flare, and she lashes out with her knee.
But I see it coming. I twist to the side and deflect the blow, then press my body against hers, pinning her in place.
Christ, her tits are so soft but firm and plump at the same time.
She bucks back against me, and my bulge slides between her thighs, causing her pupils to dilate.
Shit, there’s no hiding it now.
“You don’t challenge me in my house,” I snarl, so close I can feel the warmth from her body. I can smell her own unique scent beneath her perfume. The scent hits me like a drug.
She almost laughs, cocking her chin in defiance. “I’ll challenge you whenever the hell I want!”
My fingers curl, and my grip tightens. I swallow hard as I press my body against hers, feeling every inch with my own.
I’m about to do something Ishouldnotdo, and when Sable shifts her hips and I feel the warm nook between her legs, I lose control.
“You want to push me? Fine.” Without hesitation, I grab her by the waist and toss her over my shoulder.
