I drag the stubble on my chin down her neck, loving the trail of goosebumps left behind from my touch. They’re not produced in fear. They are from her muscles tightening in excitement.
“You smell good enough to eat. Perhaps I should eat you?”
“I doubt I’d be nutritious enough to sustain your appetite for long.” The jealousy is her tone is highly anticipated, and very much appreciated. Only someone disinterested would be unaffected by the scene I’m confident she just witnessed.
While tracing my finger over a bulging vein in her neck, I ask, “Is this sexual tension or anger?”
“Both,” Justine grumbles, seemingly incapable of holding back the truth when my hands are on her.
“I can fix that.” I lean into her more, ensuring she can’t mistake the best form of therapy in the world. Fucking won’t stop global hunger, but it sure does make the world seem not so grim. “All you need to do is ask.”
My lips raise against her neck when she mutters, “And my other dilemma? What’s your solution for that?”
I assume she’s referencing the whores she saw me with, but her quick nudge to the door doing a bad job of concealing the near-orgy occurring in her living room reveals I still have a lot to learn about this woman.
“They’re my men,Ahren. They go where I go.”
“And the women? Do they go where you go as well?”
There she is. The sweet little temptress, ready to lay claim to her man. I knew she’d eventually crawl out of the trench her shyness placed her in. I just had no clue it would occur so quickly.
“You're as sexy as fuck when you’re jealous,Ahren.”
She huffs as if I’m being outrageous. “I amnotjealous.”
I drag my finger from her ear to her collarbone, secretly growling when her skin hues more with every inch I travel. “Your skin flames with heat when your little green monster raises its head.” My voice reveals my internal struggles. Patience is not a strong point of mine, and I’ve never wanted something as badly as I want her beneath me, so this isn’t just testing my patience, it’s steering me straight toward failure. “Most men would think you are embarrassed, but I know the real cause for your blooming color and seductive scent.”
A sigh expels from her mouth when I brush my hand down the marks on the back of her right knee. If she’s panicked I’ll be turned-off by her scars, she has no reason to fret. I’m five seconds from devouring her where she stands. That’s how much she clouds my judgement.
“Unlike your face, this area only flames when you’re angry.” I pause, mortified about the sappy fuck I’m portraying, but incapable of giving her the lines I use on my whores. “Or turned on.” I tilt my neck so we meet eye to eye. “I sure fucking hope you’re blushing now because you’re turned on,Ahren. I’m not a patient man, and I’m beyond ready to have you beneath me.”
Justine opens her mouth before closing it again. Her eyes reveal her conflict—her torment. She wants this, but at the same time, she’s afraid by what that means.
She’s also still overcome with jealousy.
I spin her around to face me to ensure she sees the honesty in my eyes when I say, “If I were a man who took what he wanted without asking, I’d be fucking you where you stand, proving there is no reason for your jealousy.” As I step closer to her, my nostrils flare to drink in her aroused scent. The sharp, quick breaths I’m sucking in are released with a growl when I say, “There is only one woman I want wrapped around my cock,Ahren. It isn’t my sister.”
“The brunette was your sister?” she splatters out, her pitch high enough to pierce my eardrums.
I could answer her, but the generous tilt of her tits expose I don’t need to. She is relieved, horny, and on the verge of giving in to the tension gripping every inch of her.
While gliding my index finger over a peaked bud I’m dying to sample, I mutter, “The good girls always want to tame the bad boys, but what happens when the good girl likes the bad boy just the way he is, but she’s too afraid to admit it?”
It’s the fight of my life not to spread her thighs and eat her now when she fails to deny my comment. I would if a blinking red contraption in the corner of the kitchen didn’t capture my attention. It’s late in the day, meaning Vladimir will most likely be walking the gallows.
My blood thickens with lust when Justine groans in disappointment from my hand moving away from her generous breasts. “Soon,Ahren. Very soon,” I promise.
Smirking to hide my annoyance I’m being watched like a criminal on death row, I snatch the unopened pasta off the counter, craving something more than useless calories. I’d rather save them for something more appetizing, such as Justine’s sweet-smelling cunt.
“Perhaps if I fill your stomach, you’ll let me gorge on you.”
She doesn’t answer me. She doesn’t need to. Even angels know better than to double guess the devil.
While I switch out the pasta for potatoes, steak, and fresh vegetables, Justine clears away stacks of paperwork from the kitchen table. From the thickness of the files, I’m going to assume getting me off my charges was her main focus the past three hours.
Curious to see how deep her dig went, I ask, “Did you discover anything interesting in my records?”
“Umm…” She spins around to face me, her nose screwing up like it does in her sleep. “I wouldn’t necessarily say interesting.”
