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“I bet right now,” he breathes the words over my lips, “if I touch you right here...” His hand skates to the apex of my thighs. Thank god I’m wearing jean shorts, “you’d be wet for me.”
“You can’t say stuff like that to me,” I grit out.
His brow quirks up. “No? Wouldn’t your boyfriend like it? How is good old Bexley, by the way?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“What a shame.”
“Yeah, and why’s that?”
“Because,” he slides his hand up the side of my neck, letting his thumb brush over my pulse point, “I was really hoping to get under his skin when I mark his girl.”
“What the—“
Ace’s mouth crashes down on mine, hard and demanding. His tongue invades me, licking furiously at my own. I fight against his grip, trying to push him off, but I’m completely at his mercy, trapped between the wall and his overpowering body.
His teeth rake my tongue as he slides his hand around my throat, holding me in place. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, but the harder he kisses me, the more I drown in the sensations crashing over me. Drown in him.
Before I know it, I’m no longer fighting him, I’m submitting. My hands curl into his t-shirt, twisting and pulling him closer, needing him closer. I’ve been kissed before but nothing like this.
Never like this.
It’s hot and frenzied, and the way Ace consumes me leaves little room for me to think. It’s like he’s turned a switch and all of the emotions, the hatred and bitterness festering inside me, just melt away.
And I want more.
God, I want more.
I start kissing him back, pressing up on my toes to meet him kiss for kiss. He chuckles against my mouth, letting me know he senses the change in me. But I don’t care. This feeling of complete abandon is addictive.
“I thought you’d make me work a little harder to get a taste of this.” Ace’s hands glide down my spine and grab my ass, hiking me up against his body. He’s rock hard at my stomach, sending a bolt of lust shooting through me.
Fuck, what am I doing?
“Stop,” I cry suddenly, slamming my hands into his chest. “Just stop.”
Ace lifts his head, staring at me through hooded eyes. “You think you get to call the shots here?”
His hand returns to my neck, his grip a little tighter—not enough to hurt me, but enough to make my pulse spike.
“You marked me, Princess.” He holds up his finger, a bead of dried blood crusted over my teeth marks. “So I think it’s only fair I get to mark you.”
Ace rips the neckline of my T-shirt down and licks the curve of my breast. A reluctant moan spills from my lips, but god, it feels good. My fingers dive into his hair to yank him away. This needs to stop. It’s wrong.
He’s wrong.
“Ace, st—“ It comes out a garbled moan as he bites down hard, soothing the sting with his tongue.
“Now we’re even,” he says, backing away, dragging his thumb across his bottom lip as if he’s savori
ng every last taste.
I glance down at the little crescent-shaped teeth marks, freckled with red and purple where the blood has rushed to the surface. “You bit me,” I say with utter disbelief, as if the last few minutes didn’t happen.
“You bit me first, princess.”
“You need to go,” I bark, slipping out from between him and the wall. “Now.”
