At first, I think the girl is angry. Red’s face is arranged in a snarl, her eyes wild. But then she rips off her sweater and the shirt underneath in one fluid move, leaving her in the ugliest, nude bra I have ever seen in my life.
I blink and she is on top of me, smashing her hot, hungry mouth against mine. Red grinds desperately against my hard groin.
The control I cultivated for almost twenty years snaps like a brittle twig, and I grab her by that gorgeous fucking fire hair and release the beast inside.
Chapter5
Forest Fire
RED
Inside, inside, I fucking need him inside me now.
My body was already a roiling mess of hormones, but when he touched me, it was like I became possessed. The weak, thready protest I had, burned away the second his thumb caressed my mouth.
Between my thighs is a pulsating slip and slide and I need, need, need . . .
Fae lords, I need release. No, not just release. I want to be filled, stretched, pounded into.
I force him on the bed, and now I’m mindlessly grinding and rubbing on him. Some small part at the back of my mind tries to warn me I’m out of control.
The protest disappears when Brexley reaches up and grabs both my aching breasts, his thumb roughly brushing through the material of my bra. The one I wear to ensure I keep my shirt on because it’s so ugly. Stretched out in the wrong places, thin, and stained, it looks like it belongs to a bedraggled housewife with seven kids who never wants to be sexy again, to protect herself from having to push anything more between her legs.
The off-putting bra was getting fired because it didnotdo its job. It had ONE job. But the scarred sex god under me tweaks and plays with my aching tips through the hideous thing. I groan and rock harder against him, my nails cutting down his hard chest.
He’s unleashed something inside of me.
Calm down. You are getting out of control. You don’t want to freak him out.
I can’t stop. It’s difficult enough to try and tone myself down in normal circumstances. But there’s something about Brexley, the energy thrumming between us that makes it almost impossible to hold back. The spicy, masculine smell that wraps around me and makes me wonder if his cock tastes as good as he smells.
A whisper of sensation against my back and the worn material releases from my chest. I sit up, still keeping my center flush against the promising hardness between his legs. Brexley rips the bra off and throws it, muttering, “You should burn that.”
Violence and sex pulsate in me too strongly, and I slap him right across the face for the comment.
Everything in me freezes.Did I just do that? Over a bra I absolutely should burn?
Yep. My hand stings from the contact, and his cheek has an angry red glow.
He blinks up at me in surprise.
What the actual faefucks is wrong with me?
The reality of my violence cools my crazy impulses. Shame has me backing up off him.
Brexley’s nostrils flare as his eyes darken dangerously, and there is a glimmer in them as if . . . as if he liked it. I’m yanked back as he grabs my wrist. “You want to act like a little brat? I’ll treat you like one.”
He searches my eyes, and I can only guess what he sees there. Excitement. Deep, bottomless lust. And a girl who wants a taste of the violence he promises.
This is exactly everything that’s wrong with me. Yet, I see the same thrill mirrored in Brexley’s expression. Eyes alight, lips parted, and tongue curled as if to suppress his fathomless hunger.
He flips us, laying me out. Rearing back on his knees, he rips off his sweater, revealing an unreal body.
Seriously, it has to be fake. Nobody has muscles sculpted like that. There are corners and ridges I instantly want to lick and grind against. A dark patch of hair travels suggestively down his taut abs, disappearing into his low-slung jeans.Sweet witchtits, he even has those deep divots defining his hips that make the most innocent of girls dumb and horny as hell. And I sure as hell am not innocent.
My desire explodes back into full flames at the sight of him looming over me.
I reach up, wanting to touch every bit of him at once. Before I can, he grabs me by the throat, slamming me down on the bed.
