Page 90 of Resisting Mr. Rich


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Her heart thuds against it.

“Shut up,” she breathes.

I tease the neckline of her dress down low enough that I can suck the swell of skin at the top of her breast. She moans as I graze my teeth over her, leaving a mark, before smoothing my tongue over the tender spot.

“Logan…”

“Tell me to stop.” I pull her dress lower and kiss dangerously close to her nipple.

She says nothing, so I kiss her again, over and over, working my way up past her collar bones and onto her neck. A small squeak escapes her parted lips as I place my lips by her ear.

“You want me, Mads. I bet your pussy’s all swollen and wet underneath your dress now that you’ve seen me again.”

She struggles to swallow around a small whimper. I look further down the corridor.

“Come.” I take her hand and lead her to the end and around the dark corner.

The minute we’re out of sight, I cage her in between my arms against the wall, reveling in the fact she doesn’t push me away or object. Instead, she stares at me with lust-filled eyes.

But I’m still playing with fire as I slip a hand underneath her dress and skate my fingers up her inner thigh.

“Stop,” she whispers, making no attempt to make me.

Her breath grows ragged as I move higher, and she drops her purse to the floor.

“Don’t give me that shit about us meaning nothing again,” I growl.

“We don’t. This is nothing,” she murmurs.

I slide my hand higher, and she jerks, gasping as I rip her panties to one side.

“You’re a liar, Maddox Harper. You want me as much as I want you. You don’t make the same mistake over and over.”

“I hate you,” she says with a frustrated moan as I push my fingers through her silky skin.

“Sure feels like it.” My fingers glide through her arousal until I’m circling her swollen clit. She tries to hide her shudder, which only makes me smile. “See. You’re fucking soaking for me.”

“This isn’t happening.” Her hands find my shoulders, holding onto me for support. Her lips part as I move my fingers to her entrance, groaning as silkiness coats them and runs into my palm.

“This is so fucking happening.” I bury my head into her neck and inhale her scent as I push two fingers inside her.

Maddy gasps, her nails biting into my skin through my jacket.

“You can’t tell me Italy meant nothing to you,” I say as I hold my fingers still inside her. She wriggles around them, her body urging me to move them and give her relief. But I keep them still, enjoying the rising blush creeping up her neck.

“I can,” she utters.

“I spent the whole last night on the island inside you, Mads. My body joined with yours. And it wasmy nameon your lips when you came. Every single time.” My voice lowers to a hoarse rasp as I remember her body gripping onto me and bursting into pleasure around me that night. “You even whimpered it when you were exhausted but refused to stop. You pulled me into you again and again that night. You wanted it. Every single minute. You looked into my eyes, and you felt it. You feltthis.” My gaze burns into hers. “I know you did.”

“No. We were never meant —”

“But we did! Accept it, Mads. You and me. We fit. As much as you don’t want that to be true, nothing has ever been more real. What are you scared of?”

She shakes her head and her eyes pop wide as I move, pulling my soaked fingers out and sliding them back inside her slowly. Her pupils dilate as she stares at me.

“I hate you.”

“Kiss me.”

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