I slam her against the door, my chest to her back, and the door bangs shut.
She flails, trying to get her nails into me, and kicking my shins. Holding her with one hand to her neck and my hips pressing into her lower back, my knees trapping her thighs, so she stops striking me, I grapple with her top.
It has to come off, in case there’s a listening device in it.
“Let me go!” she yells and squirms, and the unfortunate consequence of her lithe little body rubbing against mine as she tries to escape is that my cock is caught between us, and I shift from partly aroused to rock-solid.
“Shut up!” I snarl, knowing that it will have the opposite effect.
Her top is trapped, and my patience is finished. I grab the cotton and rip it right off, then shove at her tight-fitting yoga pants, careful to leave her knickers in place. I don’t think that’ll be visible with her between me and the wall.
She sobs, screaming.
The clothes fall to the floor, and I lean my head down, narrowly avoiding her attempted headbutt. She’s making this a fight every moment, and my crazed brain loves it. I tighten my hand on her neck, hard enough to restrict her air supply.
I press my mouth to her ear, and whisper, “There’s something you need to know…”
Her yell splutters to a whine. My lips brush her soft skin and her hair, falling out of that tight style, touches my cheek.
“Your sisters sent me.”
4
TAYLOR
My emotions explode like confetti as I sway, lightheaded from lack of air. A mess of colour and happiness and dread.
What?
“Hayley and Payton.”
It’s been years since I’ve heard those names aloud.
“Keep screaming,” Kon demands roughly, easing the pressure on my neck, and it’s only then I realise I’ve stopped. “They can hear us outside.”
But he starts to release me, and my brain fires into life. If he really is here because of my sisters, there’s something he needs to know.
“No! Stop!” I scream, then add, in a whisper. “They have cameras too.”
If they suspect Kon is trying to rescue me, he’s dead.
He yanks me with him instead of pinning me to the wall again, and when I stumble because of the yoga pants around my ankles, he bear-hugs me and half carries half drags me to the bedroom and roughly pushes me onto the bed, ripping the covers aside so I’m laid on the pristine white sheets.
When his hands leave me for those seconds, I scramble away, only for him to catch my ankle and ruthlessly drag me, shoving me over onto my back and covering my body with his own.
His skin is both rough and silky, his hair soft prickles and the warm muscles smooth.
He’s so big.
His cock pushes against my belly. Thick, heavy, hot.
And absolutely huge, velvet-covered steel.
My reaction is pure instinct. Primal.
The fact he’s hard might just mean he’s a great actor, but my body interprets it as desire, and I have no idea why, but that excites me.
A lot.
