Page 40 of Unruly

“Not yet, Darlin’.” I slide one hand up under the hem of her shirt, palm flat against her warm, soft stomach. “Tell me who called. Tell me what was said that’s got you looking like you want to crawl out of your own skin.”

She yanks hard on the rope, breathing fast.

I grab her chin firmly, tilting her face up so she has no choice but to look at me. “You’re not going anywhere until you talk. And with the way your nipples are poking through that shirt, the way your thighs keep pressing together … fighting me is turning you on.”

Her cheeks flush darker. “You’re disgusting.”

I grin. “Am I? Then why are your tits heaving like that, Darlin’?”

Before she can answer, I grab the front of her shirt with both hands and rip it open in one sharp yank. Buttons fly. Her black bra is exposed now.

“Fuck,” I breathe, staring. “Look at you. So fucking pretty. So fucking turned on.”

She yanks against the rope again, face burning.

I lean in, lips brushing her ear. “Tell me who called, Halle, or I’m going to keep playing with you until you’re begging me to let you come.”

“You wouldn’t dare touch me,” she says.

My mouth crashes down on hers, and for half a second, she kisses me back. Then she bites my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic tang hits my tongue, and I pull back just enough to taste it, grinning like a madman.

She glares at me, breathing fast. “I warned you …”

I spin her hips slightly and bring my palm down hard on her ass with a loud crack. She yelps, the sound turning into a shocked moan as I immediately grip both full, soft cheeks in my hands, squeezing hard and pulling her flush against my aching cock.

“Fuck!” she gasps.

“Yeah?” I growl against her ear, kneading her ass possessively. “You bite me like a feral little cat and expect me to be gentle?”

“I expect you to untie me so I can kick your fucking ass.”

“Not a chance. I can smell how much your pussy likes being tied up and handled. Stop pretending you don’t want this.”

“I don’t want you,” she hisses, but her hips rock against me once, involuntarily.

“You keep saying that,” I murmur, biting her neck, “but your cunt is dripping down your thighs while you’re tied up for me. You like being at my mercy, don’t you, Darlin’?”

Her voice cracks with anger and exhaustion. “Ugh! Fine, it was Zach, okay? Happy now?”

“No, I’m not fucking happy.”

She laughs bitterly. “You don’t get to play the hero, Cash. You’re ten years younger than me, and you think you can just⁠—”

“I don’t give a fuck about your age,” I say. “I’ve never given a fuck about your age. That’s your thing, not mine. You keep throwing that ten years at me like it’s supposed to scare me off. But, Darlin’, that just means you’ve had ten more years of nobody touching you right.”

She whimpers, half anger, half need. “You’re such an arrogant asshole.”

I slap her ass again, harder this time, then soothe it with both hands. “And you’re a stubborn, beautiful, broken-hearted woman who needs to be fucked until she remembers she’s worth everything.”

Her mouth opens. Closes.

I drop to my knees and peel her shorts and underwear down in one slow drag, hands trailing down the outside of her thighs as I go, and the sight that meets me short-circuits my brain for a solid three seconds. Thick, soft thighs. And between her legs, she’s already wet, glistening in the low light.

“Fuck,” I breathe. “Look at this pretty cunt.” I spread her open with my thumbs and just look at her. “Already dripping down your thighs for me?”

“Cash—” Her voice cracks.

“Shh … let me eat.”