Page 149 of Twisted Knight

“Liar,” I say when I tear my mouth from his.

Just a finite amount of time and a hunger that never seems to get sated.

“I’m in here with you, aren’t I?”

Just our hands fumbling—mine with my panties beneath my dress and him with his pants until his cock is free.

Our eyes hold in a suspended state. It’s a split second—anger meets jealousy, hurt joins confusion, lust fuels need—and then we crash into each other again.

Bodies against one another’s.

Mouths taking.

Fingers roaming.

Need escalating.

Moments flash. His hands on my ass, lifting me onto the shallow counter. My hands in his hair. His taste on my tongue. His fingers parting me and finding me wet. His appreciative moan.

He enters me without warning. There’s a sting of pain chased by a rush of pleasure as he seats himself with a feral grunt.

“Fucking take it, Sunshine. Take the whole goddamn thing.” Another low growl as my fingernails score his neck, prompting him to lift me up so that I have no choice but to take every deliciously hard inch of him.

“I hate you,” I groan out.

“No, you don’t.” A chuckled moan.

“You’re a prick.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he lets out as he thrusts into me. “Just like that,” he praises, my legs falling farther open. “Just. Like. That.”

His restraint is snapped, his control lost as he presses my back against the wall—pinning me there with his body against mine as leverage—and begins to move.

It’s all rushed and euphoric. We’re harsh pants and unrefined movements. Our only thought is chasing the high. Our only need is to make sure we reach it.

“Holden,” I moan his name out and then catch myself when reality seeps momentarily in to remind me where we are.

“No. Don’t stop,” he murmurs roughly against my ear. Each word said between a thrust up. “Ride it. Just like that. God, you ride my cock like a goddamn pro, baby.”

His every action is my reaction.

His every exhale, my next inhale.

It’s not soft.

It’s not tender.

It never has been between us. But there’s something about this time. Maybe it’s the moment, the seeing and not touching, the hiding from the outside world and reveling in our sexy secret, the knowing if we get caught there’s hell to pay … whatever it is, it’s violent desire mixed with desperate need.

It’s about being wrong but feeling so goddamn right.

It’s about his date being out there while he’s here inside of me.

It’s about his murmured praises and his gruff commands.

It’s about the orgasm that hits like a lightning strike—I knew it was coming but when it strikes, I succumb to its fire. My skin. My nerves. My breath. My pulse.

I sink my teeth into his shoulder to muffle my moan.