“You ever wanted a man so much you begged him to fuck you until your throat felt raw?”
“No.” Her voice turned breathier.
“You ever come so hard you weren’t sure you had any bones left in your thoroughly melted body?”
Sasha’s saucer-wide eyes told him she wondered if such reactions were even possible. “No.”
“Ever even fantasized about those things?”
Her gaze dropped to her lap again. She swallowed. “Why all the questions?”
“Yes or no?”
“I agreed to give you my body, not my mind.”
Nick had no right, but that answer pissed him off. If he was going to risk her hatred and his own self-loathing, then by god he wanted all of her.
He grabbed her chin in his grip and forced her gaze up to his. “If you can’t even answer me, then you’re not ready for the way I intend to fuck you. Not even close.”
Sasha jerked from his grip. “What more do you want? You can force me to spread my legs for you and give you everything between them. You can’t force me to share everything under my skin.”
With a jolt, Nick realized that was exactly what he wanted—her thoughts, her consideration, her heart—and he was never going to get them.
“Until you can give me all that, don’t offer me your body again,” he said softly.
“I’ll never share those deep parts of myself with another man. I loved Mike.”
Nick had known that, but hearing her say the words still stabbed him deep. “Then we have nothing else to say. Go to bed.”
Another outburst sat on the tip of her tongue. It was all over her face, but she stifled it, jerking down to lay on her side, back to him, and yanked the covers to her neck.
“Fine.” She reached up and turned off the dingy lamp on her nightstand, killing the bit of glow in the room. “But how are we possibly going to convince anyone tomorrow that we’re in love?”
Because she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t loathe him. Message received loud and clear. He’d gotten what he wanted—for her to think he was a douchebag and to keep her distance—so he shouldn’t pout like a bitch about it now.
Even if he hated the corner he’d wedged himself into.
Nick turned off his own lamp. “Sasha?”
“What?”
The parking lot lamp outside their window lit the room just well enough to see her outline in the bed beside him. He grabbed her wrist and tugged her onto her back. An instant later, he was on her, sinking his fingers into her hair, breathing her name against her lips as he captured her mouth with his own.
Sasha already suffered a soft ache between her legs when Nick began asking pointed questions in sexual growls. When his long fingers scorched their way around her wrist, her blood had caught fire. Then suddenly, she’d found herself lying flat on her back, staring breathlessly into his midnight eyes as he silently dismantled her defenses.
You ever wanted a man so much you begged him to fuck you until your throat felt raw?
Was he saying he could do that to her?
She was still wondering the answer to that question when he dragged her beneath him. With a fist in her hair, he tilted her head until his mouth loomed right above her own. She knew what he intended. Nick Navarro was going to kiss her.
She gasped, part surprise, part protest. He didn’t worry, pause, or care why she squeaked out the sound. He ignored everything but her mouth as his lips seized hers unerringly in the dark. No fumbling. No hesitation. No lack of confidence. And absolutely no lack of skill. Just the thorough caress of his shockingly soft lips, proving without any doubt that he was determined to take and taste her, to lay claim to her until she surrendered every bit of herself to him and his will.
Oh, my goodness gracious…
He didn’t bother to hold in his groan as he shifted closer and nudged her lips apart. It wasn’t a polite request that she let him in but a demand, pure and simple. His kiss lit a passion she’d thought dead, one that roared into a sizzling torch she’d never even known existed.
He delved in with his tongue, taking command. Owning her. Slowly, shyly, she curled her fingers around his steely shoulders and parted her mouth to invite him deeper.
