I grab her chin and force her to look at me as I step closer. She flushes and breathes heavily, but she tries to plaster that angry scowl back on her face.
“Let me go,” she says, more breathless than defiant. “Don’t touch me.”
She tries to pull away again, but I’m done pretending. She can fight it all she wants, but we both know how this ends. With her under me, gasping my name.
I grab her thighs, hauling her up so we’re face to face. “Not this time,” I growl, my voice low and deliberate.
Her body freezes for a moment, and my words sink in, before she starts struggling. She pushes against my chest, tries to kick her legs free as I move us to the couch. Her protests are a blur of sound I can barely register. All I can see is her, all I can feel is the heat radiating from her body. I sit, forcing her to straddle my lap. Her initial struggle causes the most incredible friction, and my cock hardens further with every accidental grind. Slowly, her movements shift, the fight draining from her as her hips begin a deliberate roll.
“That’s it,” I murmur, threading a hand into her hair and pulling her mouth to mine. My kiss is hard and claiming, a collision of everything we've been holding back. I should’ve done this sooner. Should’ve claimed her the second she started looking at me like this. The moment our lips meet, something inside me snaps—weeks of tension, unspoken words, and lingering glances all crashing into this single breathless second. She tastes like defiance, like need, and like everything I never let myself have.
She pulls back, panting, and slaps me across the face. My cock twitches.
Fuck, she’s perfect.
She thrashes, but I rip the oversized shirt over her head, and trap her arms in the fabric. Her breasts are bare, her nipples hard and tempting. The sight sends a bolt of heat through me, possessive and primal. I drag my teeth over the sensitive skin of her neck before latching onto one taut peak, savoring her sharp intake of breath as I take her into my mouth.
She sucks in a breath, her body arching into me as a low moan escapes her lips. I release her nipple, blowing on it lightly to watch it pebble further beneath my gaze.
“Look at you,” I rasp, voice thick with possession. “So fucking beautiful like this. Made just for me.”
“You’re an ass,” she counters.
“You love it,” I reply, flipping her onto her back with just enough force to bounce her head against the couch cushions. She’s momentarily distracted, giving me the opening to slide between her legs.
Chapter 35
My Body Betrayed Me
Violet
What the actual fuck is happening right now?I came down here to tell him I was done playing his games. Being teased and turned down last night was my final straw—and yet here we are.
His mouth was on mine for the first time, and for one perfect second, it was everything. The heat, the hunger, and the way he claimed me like he had every right. Then I slapped him. Hard. And instead of pushing me away, he looked at me like I was something he wanted to break and savor in the same breath.
Now, his hands grip my thighs, lifting me just enough to slide my shorts off. My protest dies on my lips as his mouth descends on me, licking a long, and deliberate stroke through my folds.
“Oh, Kitten, you’re so wet for me,” he purrs, his voice a sinful caress.
“I am not,” I lie, though my traitorous body says otherwise. His grin is wicked as he moves up my body, his mouth claiming mine.
The taste of my arousal on his tongue sends a shiver through me, and I hate myself for the moan that escapes when his fingers slide inside me. My body bucks involuntarily at the invasion.
“I don’t want you,” I manage, breaking the kiss. “You had your chance last night!”
“The fuck you don’t,” he growls, his mouth returning to my core. His lips and tongue work me with expert precision, his fingers curling inside me to hit a spot that has me trembling.
I should stop this. I have to stop this. My confidence and bravery are no longer with me this morning. I can’t want this.
But his words cut through my spiraling thoughts. “Stop thinking, Kitten, and let yourself come.” His voice is a low growl, his breath hot against me. His lips close over my swollen clit, his tongue teasing mercilessly as his fingers stroke deep.
I’m losing the battle, my resistance unraveling with each torturous second. I should struggle. I should stop him. But instead, I yank my arms free from the shirt tangled around me and grab his hair, holding him against me as I grind against his mouth. My body is a live wire, and the release slams into me, leaving me shaking and grinding against his face.
Panting, I try to gather myself, but he doesn’t stop. His mouth stays on me, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until it’s almost too much.
“Stop—I can’t,” I gasp, squirming beneath him.
“You can, and you will,” he says, his voice firm as he pulls me closer.
