“You’re a terrible, self-absorbed little rat,” he spits out, panting against me. “Someone ought to teach you how to mind your manners.”
“Plenty of men teach mea lotof things, thank you. Now paws off, you won’t be one of them.” I’m pleased that I’m able to keep my words from slurring together, but Nathaniel isn’t impressed as I struggle against him.
It’s not arealstruggle, not after I’ve been primed for sex and he’s so hot against me. But I try anyway. I have to; otherwise I’ll regret it in the morning.
Hate and attraction seem to blend seamlessly with liquor involved.
With his firm grip still encasing the back of my neck, Nathaniel drags me from the dance floor and into the hallway that leads to the restrooms, where he shoves me against the wall.
This area of the club is far less crowded, with only the occasional patron passing by to utilize the facilities.
Which means we’re basically alone.
“Let go of me,” I demand, but as the words leave me, I find myself gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer.
All I can taste is whiskey, and yet all I cansmellis Nathaniel. His hands trace my body as he pins me down, his eyes stern and assessing.
I can see the battle in them, can sense his hesitation.
He’s just as fucked as I am. Drowning in hatred and lust and so fucking confused.
Nathaniel leans in once more, his lips brushing the shell of my ear and pulling an embarrassing shiver from within me.
“You act so tough for such a submissive man, little Lanny,” he whispers, and there are traces of tension and restraint laced in his voice.
A small laugh leaves me at the absurdity of it. “I may bottom sometimes, but never once have I been consideredsubmissive,Nate.”
The nickname slips from between my lips so easily, yet it pours poison down the back of my throat. I’m becoming too familiar with him, too comfortable.
And I’m not the only one affected by it—Nathaniel shivers, his warm, hard body pressing further into mine.
It’s strange. Julian and I were perfectly matched in almost everything; his body was a comforting weight against my own because of this. I love fucking with men who have my build—it’s a preference.
But as Nathaniel pushes into me, taller and broader and so mean, I can’t help but crave it. And he’s staring at me as if he’s promising me a pleasure so severe it will shift into pain.
“In my hands, under my command, youwouldsubmit. I’d force you to,” he tells me.
“You could certainly try,” I shoot back. “In your dreams, that is.”
Rage swells in his eyes, and Nathaniel grips the side of my head, digging his fingertips into my scalp and yanking at my hair.
God, why does that feel sogood?
“When Julian had you pinned down, taking you like he owned you, did you cry?” he asks, his voice dripping with violence and promises of doing just that. “Did you finally drop this bratty act?”
Mentioning Julian was a mistake. Even intoxicated, that murky darkness builds inside my chest, turning me into a cornered animal. I shove at his chest, meeting his eyes head-on as I narrow my own.
“When Julie fucked me, I held him down and rode him till he begged for me to stop,” I snap. “And after he filled me up, I flipped him over anddestroyedhim.”
Heat flashes in his honey-colored, cat-like eyes once more. It battles the rage, the primal look within them.
“Isn’t it sad?” he purrs, voice suddenly gentle and yet mocking at the same time as he leans in again, brushing his lips over my cheek. “Isn’t it so disappointing that my boss’s son will now be the one to ride him until he cries, babydoll?”
Babydoll. The nickname is sickeningly sweet compared to how he stares down at me, how he speaks. How hetouches. I love and hate it in equal measure, absolutely appalled by his audacity.
And still, something inside of me cries out in misery. The idea of Atlas, sweet and kind, riding Julian like that makes me sick. Makes me angry.
Iwas the first to do it; the first to learn his body and his desires. It’s just not fair.
