Before I can second-guess myself, I move upwards and press my mouth hard against his. Rebel doesn’t even pause, opening his mouth over mine and thrusting his tongue inside. I glide my hands over his biceps and down to his forearm, making him groan as I press my thumb into the cut.
He drags his arm away and grabs my shirt, then pulls so hard it tears straight down the middle. He has to have some serious strength to do that, but I can feel it radiating off him, the desire and need.
His lips trail down my chin and neck, over the hollow of my throat, and I reach back to unclasp my bra.
He drags it away, his mouth already closing over a nipple before I’ve even let it slip down my arms.
“Oh god,” I fall backwards, but he wraps his arm around me again and holds me close, scraping his teeth across my nipple and grabbing my hair, tugging it so my head tilts back.
“Fuck, I need inside you,” he moves back and grabs my sweatpants, dragging them down hard enough that I almost slide off the table, but he steadies me and steps back between my thighs.
Not wanting to just sit here and let him take control, I reach beside me and take the knife.
Rebel pauses when he sees me bringing it between us. He’s breathing just as hard as I am, but neither one of us moves for a moment. He doesn’t know what I intend to do, but he will not stop me.
Without looking, I glide the blunt side of the knife along my hip and under the fabric of my panties.
He watches as I twist it and slice through the fabric and nick the skin where my hip meets my thigh.
Rebel takes the knife and tosses it behind us, it clatters across the wooden floor as he drops to his knees and pulls my panties out of the way. Before I have time to ask him why he did that, we might need it again, he’s pressed his thumbs on either side of my pussy and is dragging it open enough for him to thrust his tongue into me.
I cry out and fall back on my elbows as he lifts my thighs and throws them over his shoulders. His finger trails through the blood, and I tilt my head up, watching as he draws circles on my abdomen with it.
His eyes are on mine as his tongue works, moving between my clit and dipping in and out of me. His nose bumps up against my pubic bone as he drags me closer.
I fight to get away from him while wrapping my thighs tighter around his neck, craving the press of his thumb against the wound and his tongue as it strokes and licks, teeth scraping and biting.
How do we understand each other so well? How is it possible I’ve met someone who craves the same things as me? And why does it have to behim?
My eyes stay closed as Rebel stands back and pulls his jeans open. With one quick thrust he’s inside me, and this time I can’t help but cry out, far too loudly. I don’t care because he is inside me and I can feel every solid, hard inch of him as he thrusts in and out, holding my hip andpressing his other hand down on my pubic bone, smearing the patterns he made.
This is fucked up, but neither one of us wants it to stop, even as the table thumps against the wall with every single thrust.
I spare a thought for what or who might be on the other side of the wall, but he fucks away any concern, rocking into me so hard my brain can’t focus on anything else.
Rebel leans over me, staring into my eyes. He almost says something, but whatever it was dies on his tongue as he kisses me again, trapping the words he was going to say between our battling tongues.
Chapter Fourteen
Rebel
Everything inside me has closed in on one thing and one thing only. Fucking her. Owning her body, tasting her mouth and feeling her wet heat around my cock, clenching and tightening and making every thrust a hard-won battle.
I saw how she stared at the knife as I threw it, but I know myself well enough to understand that can’t be anywhere near us when I’m like this. I would never hurt her, or take it too far, but the temptation would be too powerful.
As much as I enjoy seeing the blood form like small red pearls on her perfect skin, I won’t cut her anymore.
All we need now is to fuck away the need.
I’m supposed to be meeting Fury and intended on getting the two women off the damn street, furious that Kinsley was out here again and pissed that Katrina was trying to talk to me.
I know why I’ve ended up here. I would have left as soon as she was inside until I saw that drawing. And I knew what the brownish strokes were. It made my heart pump too fast, my blood run too hot through my veins, becoming dangerous.
She’s moaning and thrashing so I pin her arms to hold her still as I bite her neck. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough that she stills, only moving with each thrust of my cock inside her.
Being Kinsley, she doesn't allow me to pin her down for too long, she twists her arms out of my grip and grabs the back of my neck, tightening her fingers in my hair to the point it stings.
We’re making way too much noise, so I straighten, grab her under the thighs and step back, moving to the wall that backs onto the outside of the building, not the church.
