Page 14 of Secret Dynasty

“And you think that’s what I want?” I needed to understand where Spencer was coming from, even if I didn’t believe a word he said.

“No,” he said apprehensively, “I think maybe it’s what I want. I wish that it could be that way. I wish we could take our time without pressure. Maybe I’m jealous.”

I bit my lip, shocked that he’d finally realized this. “You two need to sort this out.”

“We will,” he promised.

But I knew they wouldn’t, not without time or therapy or probably both. Still, I found myself longing to believe him. If only to escape the harsh reality rushing toward me. If Spencer could work this out, I wouldn’t be the target of his paranoid regret. Maybe if he could clear his head, he could see that we didn’t have to go through with this.

“I don’t deserve you, but I need you.”

Spencer’s words hung in the air, a strange combination of truth and lies. He didn’t deserve me. He didn’t need me. And yet he did. I was his only chance at salvation. But I was also his punishment. Maybe he was mine as well.

He dropped my hands and raised his palm to my face. Caressing it down the side of my cheek, he murmured, “You are so beautiful.”

I hooked an arm around his neck, staring up into his eyes. It wasn’t his words that spurred me forward, it was the pain running through them. His anger and hurt had nothing to do with me. Just like mine had nothing to do with him. But I knew that we needed the same thing. Neither of us could run. Neither of us would. Our destinies had been laid before us and while Spencer’s cage might be larger than my own, I could see its bars now all the same. We were both kept creatures. At least, if I joined him in his captivity, I could fly freer than in my own.

“Take me to bed,” I whispered.

Spencer closed the final space between us, his lips finding mine with an urgency that told me he felt the same way. His arm circled my waist, crushing my body against his and instinct took over. It didn’t feel right, but it felt good—and good was better than numb. Good was better than pain. Good was better than fear and anger and confusion. His mouth claimed me, his tongue forcing open my lips to deepen the kiss. A fire ignited where bodies touched, smoldering through me until it reached my core and blazed to life. My arms hooked over his strong shoulders and he accepted my invitation, lifting me from the ground and carrying me to the bed. We broke free from each other only long enough to tear off our clothes and collide once more. We were flesh on flesh. We were wrong. His kiss was wrong. Each touch robbed a bit more from me. Each taste stole a piece of my soul. But there was so little left of it that I didn’t care.

Spencer’s mouth moved south, cruising down my neck to my collarbone. “God, you’re perfect.”

His mouth found my breast, and I reared against him as a canine grazed my nipple. He nipped harder, sucking it between his teeth possessively. Darkness thickened the air, mirroring the turmoil simmering inside me. I sank my nails into his back, digging into his skin and raking down.

“Fuck,” he growled, but he took the violence as an invitation. He reached between my legs and wrenched my thighs open. “You want it rough, dirty girl?”

I hated the way Holden’s nickname sounded on Spencer’s lips. I especially hated how it sent a hot stab of desire straight to my clit.

“Say it again,” I licked my tongue across his lower lip.

“You like that thought, don’t you?” he said, his eyes shadowed as he brushed the tip of his cock along my aching entrance. “Dirty girl. It’s what you really want, isn’t it?”

“I want it rough,” I murmured with a groan as his cock swept over my clit. “Maybe that makes me dirty.”

“I will give it to you any way you want,” he promised, pushing in a fraction of an inch and smiling when I gasped. “As long as you promise me one thing.”

At the moment, I would promise him the world for his cock. He’d already taken everything else. “Anything.”

“You’re mine,” he said.” “Say it. Say you’re my dirty girl.”

I stared up at him, knowing that this wasn’t about me. It should make me sick, but I didn’t feel anything but twisted pleasure. He could make me say whatever he wanted, but I wouldn’t belong to him. And when he called me dirty girl, I could pretend he was someone else entirely. It was dirty and wicked and wrong.

And I didn’t fucking care.

“I’m yours.”

Spencer slammed into me and I arced off the bed, tightening my arms around his neck. My fingers knit through his hair, pulling it. I could be his to use as he pleased, but I would use him, too. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I bucked against him. “Harder.”

“Tell me to fuck you,” he gritted out as he rocked inside me, slowing his thrusts.

“Fuck me. Hard.”

He grabbed hold of my hips and drove deep, each stroke more demanding than the last. There was no love as he fucked me, and that made it better. I dropped my head to his shoulder and bit down, sinking my teeth into the hard muscle. Spencer reared for a second before he pushed me onto the bed, his hand on my stomach, and screwed me like he owned me. A palm pinned me to the mattress as he battered every last one of my defenses. He fucked me until I was nothing but a collection of sensations and pleasure and sweet oblivion. I shattered into pieces beneath him and as my climax tightened around his cock, he released inside me with a primal growl that sent a second orgasm surging through me.

When he finished spilling his seed, he rolled to the side and collapsed. Part of me liked it better this way. We didn’t speak. We didn’t touch. We’d both gotten exactly what we wanted from each other.

Spencer broke the perfect moment first.