Page 65 of Lawless Rivals

“You’ve been making this difficult from the second I put ya in that car,” I say against her lips. “You know that?”

“You’re an asshole…” she rasps. “What happened to Tallons hating Harringtons?”

I pull back just far enough to look at her. Her lips are red, her eyes blown dark, water streaming down her face.

There’s defiance in her glare but underneath it, underneath the Harrington pride, there’s something raw and real that she doesn’t know how to hide right now.

I sense the war in her. The anger clashing with need. Her soft skin is slippery under the water, her breasts squashed against my chest, nipples hard peaks that make me groan.

“Tell me ya don’t want this,” I growl against her neck, biting to mark her, to claim what I know I shouldn’t. “Tell me.”

She shudders, one leg hitching higher, her body seeking friction even as she glares at me like she’d rather burn than admit it.

The hunger inside me twists tighter and there’s no fucking way to stop it.

Rather than answer, her mouth collides with mine, and she slips her tongue into my mouth.

This isn’t kissing anymore—it’s combat. Teeth, breath, need.

She bites my lip until I taste iron, and when I pull back a fraction, her eyes blaze with that lethal mix of Harrington haughtiness and lust that drags a growl from my chest.

I spin her around, pressing her cheek to the tile, my body caging hers.

“You wanted to know what kind of man I am.” My mouth finds the curve of her neck, teeth grazing. “Now you’re going to find out.”

She shudders and pushes back against me. I fist her wet hair, gathering it in one hand, tilting her head to expose the line of her throat. My other hand slides from her stomach, dropping lower, until my fingers part her folds and find her clit.

“Saint…”

“You’re into this, princess, aren’t ya?”

I work two fingers into her and grind the heel of my palm against her clit, feeling exactly how much she wants this despite everything she’s fought and thrown at me for days.

“Is it because I shouldn’t be touching ya?”

While she’s panting, hips rocking back against me, chasing the pressure, I take my time. Her cunt clamps around my fingers every time I curl them.

Not because I’m patient. I’m not, not with her, not anymore.

But because I want her undone before I take her. I want every wall she has around her stripped away so there’s nothing left but this.

“Tell me to stop,” I say against her ear, my fingers stilling just enough to be cruel. “Tell me before I go too far.”

“Damn it… If you stop.” Her voice is wrecked, barely above the sound of the water. “I really will stab you.”

A short involuntary laugh breaks out of me.

“I hate you, Saint Tallon,” she hisses, but she pushes her ass against me, grinding herself over my throbbing cock.

It jerks against her, so hard the pressure borders on pain. Every reason I shouldn’t want her vanishes beneath the slow roll of her hips until there’s nothing in my head but fucking her against the tiles. No woman has ever stripped me down to pure instinct like this.

Keira Harrington should be the last woman capable of it. But fuck, I want her.

“I know, princess,” I force out through clenched teeth.

I yank her hips back so she bends forward, fist my cock and notch the head of it against her entrance, dragging it through her slick until she’s shaking.

There’s no foreplay, no teasing games. Just two people who’ve circled each other too long and have to give in to the attraction.