Page 30 of Ripple Effect, Vol. 3

His smile dissolves and the grip at my crown tightens as he presses his forehead to mine. “Don’t let me do this to you, Dylan.”

“Do what?”

“Hurt you. I don’t ever want to hurt you.” His lips form a hard line as he rubs the back of my head. “Not you.”

“Then don’t.” I dip my head to kiss him, and his fingers catch my jaw where they press into my bones.

His eyes are riveted on my lips, as if he wants to kiss me again, but won’t allow himself. “I wish I could trust as easily as you do.”

“Am I a fool for trusting you then?”

“You merely trust what you think you know of me.”

“Then show me what I don’t know about you.”

“Seems a waste for how little time we have left.”

Against the grip of his hand at my jaw, I slant my lips over his and dip my tongue to deepen the kiss. “Nothing about you has been a waste of my time.” At the risk of rejection, I like telling him these things, because they’re true. No other man has ever affected me this way. Snaking my arms around him, I set my gaze on his winged tattoo and grind against him, slow and taunting.

“Dylan,” he growls.

I kiss my way to his throat, running my teeth along his collarbone, and take his hand, guiding it between my thighs.

“Fuck me.” His throaty voice tells me I’m dancing along a dangerous edge. “Always so wet.”

“Only when you touch me, Ripley. No one else.” I glide my other hand across his nape and kiss his jaw. “Because I trust you.” With my legs spread wide, straddling his lap, I roll my hips against his fingers and inhale sharply when he shoves one up inside of me. “I want to know everything about you,” I whisper. “I want you to show me everything. I want you to trust me.”

He rests his forehead in the crook of my neck, still dragging his tormenting fingers up and down my seam. “Christ, Dylan. You’re fucking me up.”

“Let me stay. Forget the deal. You can fuck me whenever you want, just let me stay.” My body moves up and down with the sweet agony of his fingers, and lips to his ears, I murmur, “I’ll take care of you, Ripley. We’ll take care of each other.”

“Anyone could come through that door at any time and blow everything to shit.”

“You’re too careful for that.”

“It takes one slip-up in my world, Dylan. One wrong decision.”

I shake my head. “You’re too good at what you do.”

“I’m not good enough. Not for you.”

I scowl down at him with a ridiculous realization. Even when he’s pushing me away, he’s pulling me to safety. But I want to feel his lies wash through me the same way they did back at the club when he made a spectacle of us. “Then I’ll leave.”

I’m taunting and manipulative, and I accept it wholeheartedly.

One push against his chest to slide from his lap, and the desk slams into my back. Fire burns behind his eyes, and I hold my breath, waiting for the onslaught. As a general rule, Ripley is calm and calculated, but when it comes to this thing we have, he’s like a child who won’t give up his toy. The more resistant I am, the more he wants it, and for as many people in my life who sought to control my rebellious nature, this man seems to feed on it.

Nostrils flaring he stares at me, and I know he wants to say something back. Probably something hurtful and cruel that will slice out my heart the same way he sliced out the man’s bowels back at the factory. Because that’s what Ripley does. He tortures in a way that ensures you can’t be put back to the way you were before.

And I don’t want to be.

Instead, he upholds his stare and whatever thoughts are smoldering inside his head are a complete mystery to me.

“I didn’t fuck you for the dog.” I reach down and unlatch his belt, very much aware that it wasn’t that long ago he’d have strung me up for such a thing. “I fucked you because I wanted to.”

His eyes are riveted on my lips, watching every word fall from my mouth like they hold the secrets of the universe.

“I fucked you because I like how it feels when you’re inside of me.” With a push of the denim, I lift up from his lap, just enough to slide his jeans down his sculpted hips. When his cock springs free, my belly tightens at the length and stiffness resting against his stomach. “You, Ripley. Only you.”