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“I beg to differ. I may have been wrong in my first assumptions, but that’s only because I hadn’t had the chance to see you for what you really are.” He paused, his bright green eyes drinking in my features. “I think you liked cutting this asshole to pieces. I might even have caught a glimpse of a smile.”
I shoved him away from me and tried to walk off, but Wylder caught me by my waist. With a swift heft, he settled me on the far end of the table. Not where the cadaver had been lying, thank God, but a flash of revulsion flickered through me for a second before Wylder nudged his body closer between my legs.
Abruptly, all I was aware of was how close he stood, his face less than a foot from mine, my thighs splayed around his.
“Did I say something you didn’t like?” he asked. “Always stings when somebody puts up a mirror to you, doesn’t it?”
“Fuck you,” I spat at him, as much pissed off by the heat that had kindled in me with his closeness as by his words.
He got right in my face, his fingers tugging at my hair and loosening my ponytail so that strands of my hair fell loose against my neck. A sharper yank sent pain mixed with an undeniable spark of pleasure racing over my scalp. Leaning even closer, he brought his lips to mine, not quite closing the gap to a kiss. “Maybe you belong with us after all.”
My heartbeat thundered. A distant part of my brain was urging me to recoil, but the lingering adrenaline had shifted into a wild flare of desire I couldn’t fully explain.
The heat of Wylder’s body and his tantalizing scent washed over me. Some crazy part of me wanted to melt right into him. I didn’t let that happen, but I couldn’t convince myself to pull away either.
Two of his fingers trailed along the seam of my jeans that ran up my thigh. I tracked their progress with bated breath, torn between pushing him off me and the voice in me that was screaming for him to hurry up and reach his destination.
When he paused just before the apex of my thighs, to my embarrassment, I couldn’t help squirming as if to bring him the last short distance. He ducked his head next to mine, his breath vibrating over my neck with his laugh. “Steady there, Kitty Cat,” he whispered in the hottest voice I’d ever heard. “I’ve seen you tough. Now I want to watch you come apart for me.”
It felt as if every second of our interactions before now had been building to this moment, and those words in that husky tone nearly tipped me over the edge just like that. A growl escaped my throat—and turned into a stuttered gasp as he finally cupped my sex.
He trailed his hand over my scorching core, humming with satisfaction as if he could feel the wetness forming in my panties. His fingers swirled in torturous circles against my jeans over my clit before pushing harder. My lips parted with a panted breath, my own hands braced against the table for balance. He didn’t sweep in to steal a kiss, just let his nose graze my temple in an almost-caress as his focus remained on my pussy.
My thighs tightened around his wrist. Fuck my best intentions. If this was what I wanted, then it didn’t matter if he wanted it too, did it? And right now I wanted more of him, more of the exquisite feeling that he was making me chase. I reached for his shirt, clinging on, rocking into his touch.
With a grin I felt more than saw, he upped the tempo, rubbing two fingers up and down from clit to slit. With every stroke, he sent me careening higher, climbing to a place I wouldn’t mind falling from.
“That’s right, Princess of the Claws,” he murmured, and just this once I didn’t hate the nickname. “Let yourself explode.”
He fondled me harder, faster, and I couldn’t hold back a whimper at the pleasure bubbling up inside me. It swept over me in a searing wave. Another cry broke from me as I came.
My body bucked before I got a hold of myself, stiffening my spine. Wylder was already stepping away as if he was done with me, even though the throbbing between my thighs cried out for more. He gave me one of those cocky smirks, and I couldn’t tell whether I’d rather fuck him senseless or chophishead off.
I had just orgasmed less than ten feet from a corpse I’d almost gleefully dismembered. This entire situation was messed up on so many levels. So how could it also feel so fucking right?
