It’s so wrong that I can want him with the intensity of a billion burning suns, while still hating him so much I want to chop his limbs off with a machete. My body’s already responding to the shiver-inducing sensation of having his tongue gliding against mine, and the air is thick and hot in my lungs. The trace of blood doesn’t lessen the addictive flavor of him. And the feel of his erection pushing against my belly is driving me wild.
I honestly need therapy more than sex. But my body and hormones disagree as his hand glides down and slips under my dress. Before I can stop him, he’s already touched the V between my legs.
“You’re wet,” he mutters against my mouth.
“So? You’re hard.”
“Some sacrifice you’re making for the team.”
“Asshole.”
He laughs, the sound like a devil’s whisper. He dips his head to reclaim my mouth, but I jerk away. He grabs my hair, looping it around his fist, and then his mouth is back on mine and he’s kissing me like I’m more important than breathing.
Nobody can fake this kind of desperation. My head spins as I struggle to draw in air. The fact that he reacts to me like a horny teenager is driving me crazy. And a small part of me despairs over the fact that no matter how much I hate him, I’m always going to crave him like a drug.
He pushes me against the wall, then rips my underwear apart with ease, his arm muscles flexing. He undoes the zipper on the side and tugs my dress down, exposing my breasts. The cool air in the foyer feels good against my overheated flesh. Pushing the bra out of his way with his nose, he buries his face in the mound, his mouth on the hardened tip. He inhales my scent and groans around my nipple. Lust sparks along my spine, and I grow wetter. He seems to know exactly how to push me, and I’m embarrassed at how soaked I am between my legs.
I want to hide my reaction, stay quiet and unresponsive, but I can’t. He sucks my nipple harder, and my back arches before I can regain control. He laughs softly, but there’s no trace of mockery, just an odd sense of resignation and heat. I feel like a kid who can’t quit pushing her finger into a live socket, even though it’s going to shock me. I’m overcome with this weird thrill—dangerous, self-destructive and fucked up.
After disposing of his shorts and boxers in one rough gesture, he positions me until I’m cradling his cock between my bare folds. I bite back a curse at how good it feels to have him pulsing against my most sensitive flesh.
“Holy fuck,” he mutters.
I take that moment to look at him, wishing there was something that would turn me off. But all I see is the need blazing in his darkened gaze, his cheeks flushed and mouth wet. He’s absolutely stunning in the throes of desire, and my hormones go wild. A soft whimper tears from my tight throat.
Cursing, he drives into me. The position leaves me vulnerable, pinned against the wall, helpless and needy. He feels like hot steel inside, and the power of his thrusts is pushing me closer to a delicious edge. It feels like my entire body is on fire, and my nerve endings burn with pleasure.
There’s no self-loathing, guilt, resentment or recrimination as he’s pounding into me. It’s just the heat, the bliss, the raw need. I’m obscenely wet, and he’s impossibly perfect inside me.
I hang on to him tighter with my thighs, digging my finger into his shoulders as I climax faster and harder than I’ve ever done before. “Oh my God,” I sob, out of my mind with pleasure.
Shudders go through him, and he pulls out fast, although his arms are still wrapped around me. His hot cum hits my thighs, and, a moment later, it’s on the pristine floor and my panties. It’s lewd, but hot at the same time. Proof that we’re nothing but animals acting on instinct when we let our urges take control.
I loosen my grip and lower my legs until my feet are touching the floor. I move carefully so as not to step in the fluid. Now that sanity is slowly returning, I don’t know what to do. I came here to warn Grant to stay away from Grandpa, and I don’t know if I got to do that.
“Aspen,” Grant says.
Suddenly, apprehension clutches my chest, and I don’t want to hear whatever he plans to say. All I want from him is to leave me alone. He’s going to want more than I ever want to give, just like he did all those years ago. I yank the bodice of my dress up, covering my chest. I need to re-shield myself,now.
“Listen—”
My phone rings.Thank God for the distraction. I hurriedly reach into my purse, dropped on the floor earlier, and answer.
“Hey, Aspen,” comes Zack’s voice.
“Hey, Zack.”Yes.Warm affection and gratitude wash over me for his impeccable timing.
Grant puts a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off, turning my back to him. From this angle, I can see the vast expanse of tile and marble that leads to the other side of this gigantic mansion. “What’s up?” I say.
“I was just calling to see if you can cover my lunch shift next Saturday. No, wait, I mean the one after that.”
Normally I’d love to help Zack out, but a lunch shift means being at the bar by ten. Added to my regular evening shift, I might not have the time to visit with Grandpa.
“Hang up now.” Grant is directly behind me, his voice low and tight.
I turn my head away, hoping Zack didn’t hear him.
Grant says, “We aren’t finished.”
