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He wasn’t buying it.
He flipped her around until she faced him, his dick crammed against the softness of her stomach. She arched her back and looked up, her eyes wide and focused directly on his.
“What’s your game?” he bit out, wanting nothing more than to delve into her head and see her thoughts so he’d know how to get the response from her that he needed.
“Game?” she asked on a puff of air, her eyes looking wild for a moment, the pulse in her throat working convulsively.
“Why aren’t you fighting me anymore?”
“I don’t want to fight anymore—I can’t fight anymore.”
He felt confusion at her words, but only allowed his impatience to show in his voice. “Why the hell not?”
Her eyes held his—and then dropped to the floor as if she couldn’t maintain the intimate contact.
She continued to look down as he studied her—he needed to see inside her head like he needed air to breathe. She was so fucking beautiful, she had him tied in knots. Her skin was smooth and creamy, her lashes ridiculously long—everything about her was driving him wild. He wanted to keep her locked inside this room so badly he almost couldn’t fight the feeling. His eyes dropped to her heaving breasts and he couldn’t contain the groan that rattled from his throat.
She jerked her face up at the sound and their eyes clashed and held. “Max—”
He cut her words off with the force of his lips on hers. She stiffened for a single second and, not allowing her time to get away, he clamped his hands over her shoulders. Her body immediately turned rigid, her muscles tensing, her mouth set firmly in a flat line beneath his.
He couldn’t stand it—he couldn’t wait. He’d been a fucking fool to promise her time to adjust. He continued to kiss her, continued to ignore the wall she’d put up between them since the moment they’d met—the wall that had become even more impenetrable since he’d brought her aboard his plane.
He needed to feel her softness; it had to be now. He trailed his hand to her breast and she whimpered against his mouth. He kneaded her soft flesh but it wasn’t enough to take the edge off. Overcome with the need to take what he wanted, he jerked her shirt up and found her breast covered by the flimsy cotton of her bra. His fingers sank around her soft flesh as he pushed his hips against her, once, twice, and again, in a parody of sex meant to entice her and to soothe him.
She made a tiny mewling noise and then her muscles relaxed again as all residual fight seem to leave her. As if giving up entirely, her arms wrapped around his neck, and elation hit him from all sides at her silent invitation. Unable to slow down, he plunged his tongue inside to taste her wet heat. He wanted all of her, he’d never let her get away from him. Yes, all of her. With that thought ringing in his head he had one realization—they were married and he wasn’t going to use a condom. He was clean and she was protected against pregnancy—there was zero reason to use anything more. He wanted to feel her inner walls surround him and milk him; he wanted her bare slick pussy around the hardness of his cock—just the thought was sending beads of sweat coursing down his spine. Jesus, yes, he wanted to mark her as his—he wanted to feel himself thrusting against naked skin. He admitted that revenge had no part in his thought process; this was another way he wanted to bind her to him—the ultimate act of intimacy. He needed that with Erin as he’d never needed it with anyone before her. He wanted to push naked inside her, he needed to mark her with his seed—the thought was driving him berserk. And someday, someday, by God, she wouldn’t be protected against pregnancy as she was now—and then he’d really get what he wanted.
Scooping her up, he took her to the bed and tossed her in the middle, supremely intent on only one thing. He came down over her on all fours, swooping down for another heated kiss. The involuntary tremors of her body set him off—she was as intoxicating now as she’d been the first moment he saw her. More so even now—because now she was his.
He lifted his head and studied her, trying to figure her out through the desire clouding his mind. Her eyes remained closed, her head moving from side to side on the pillow as if agitated. He couldn’t stand it any longer, he wanted her naked and he wanted it now. This game between them would have to wait. He’d allow her to pit her intelligence against his another time. Now—right now—he needed to fuck her hard and fast. He needed to feel her come. He needed her slick and wet as her orgasm milked him.
