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That knowledge sent another thrill through her. That knowledge that for some reason, this man made her feel like a dangerous woman; that knowledge that for some reason, she knew this man wouldn't let anyone else kill her. And she stood inside with him pressed to her, not an ounce of remorse for betraying her father inside her. The thrill was all that there was.
"I will stay away when I want to," he whispered. "Not because you or anyone else tell me to. But I've never forced a woman, and I won't now."
Morana bit her lip, realizing he wasn't touching her anywhere except where her hand was behind her back. He wasn't touching her, and she felt on fire.
"We've been honest so far, Ms. Vitalio," he murmured. "I'll be honest now. I despise you but I want you. Fuck it, I do. And I want you out of my system."
The crude way he spoke made her breaths heave faster. He continued.
"Your father's men are right outside this door this very second. You want me gone? Just say the word."
Morana stilled, her head turning towards the wood, her breaths rapid in the confined space.
"You need to make a decision."
Holy fuck. How was she supposed to make a decision with her brain fried? God, she wanted him. She'd had sex once, with Jackson, mostly out of rebellion, but it hadn't been something she'd wanted to repeat anytime soon. There hadn't been even a quarter of the heat just locking gazes with this man had. She'd never felt so heady, so carnal, so, so utterly wanton in her own lust.
And that was the crux of the entire problem. She hated him, everything he had done and every word he'd said. She wanted to kill him someday. But her body wanted him. And she wanted him out of her system. Just once.
Her father was right outside. His men were right outside. The Outfit was right outside.
Tristan Caine was inside. Behind her.
She wanted him inside her.
Morana closed her eyes, raising her free hand to the top corner of the wooden door.
And she locked it.
Decision made.
Breaths.
She could hear his breaths, right against her neck, blowing softly over her ear, heating the skin it washed over. Her neck tingled. Blood rushed over the spot, igniting it with a flame she was unfamiliar with, his exhale kindling it, higher and higher, just across that expanse of skin. Her heart stuttered, her fingers pressing harder into the wood, her trapped arm wanting to squirm. She barely contained the urge, standing still except for her heaving breasts, her fingers tingling with the need for touch, for sensation, hungry for contact with warm male flesh she could feel behind her, not pressing into her but so, so present.
She turned her face towards his.
Breaths.
A scent of scotch and chocolate, mixed in a heady concoction she wanted to taste on her mouth. Her eyes flickered down to his lips, tracing them with her gaze, seeing the ripe fullness of it, making her teeth want to sink in them, test their plushness, their softness. Her eyes went to the scar at the corner of his lip, peeking out from under his scruff, making her tongue heavy, wanting to lick it, to taste it, feel it. Her gaze lingered on the scruff around his mouth, wondering if it would scratch against her skin, itch, or maybe burn, leave the marks of his devouring for the world to see, red and pink skin burning with the memory of his hunger.
The world definitely couldn't see.
And neither could she later.
No. She wanted him, but she wanted him out of her system more. This was a one-time thing, and she wanted absolutely no memories of it, ever. Not once that door opened and she walked out on her heels. She wanted to get to her codes and get the hell out of this life. She wanted this just to be a thrilling memory in her past. Nothing more.
Turning her eyes up, she locked her gaze with those magnificent eyes, the blue darkened to just a rim on the outside, telling her he was serious about this, not faking anything. He was aroused, very aroused. His breaths were heavy, deep, controlled but his eyes were blazing with such intense lust and hatred, that familiar hatred that she didn't even blink at anymore.
"Keep your mouth away from me," she told him in a low voice.
His face remained completely passive, only an annoying eyebrow hiking up. "I had no intention of bringing my mouth anywhere near you."
Morana grit her teeth, the residual anger burning deep in her belly. She didn't know why it offended her, given she had suggested it, given she wanted it, but she was offended and it made her angrier. This was just a quick fuck. There was no point in complicating it.
"Just your cock then," she told him crudely, unabashedly, her body flaring with fury and desire, mingling in a way she couldn't tell which was which anymore.
He let her hand go, his eyes narrowing slightly, but he didn't move. "How much experience do you have?"
