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“You’re fucking psycho!”
“You’re a dickhead!” She slapped his face, leaving an instant handprint in his five ‘o clock shadow.
“Bitch!”
She slapped him again, and he cursed again. The room swirled around them as they struggled for power and exchanged names that would make even the most foul-mouthed neighborhood gangbanger blush. The room spun once more, and then Elise’s back slammed up against the wall, rattling an old, yellowed-by-time painting.
Manhandler put them nose to nose, those blue eyes penetrating hers with a fire that Elise wasn’t sure how to respond to. She was both spitting mad and turned on.
Stupid hormones.
“Don’t ever hit me again.”
Elise’s breath rushed out of her in sharp gasps, matching his. “Let me go, and I will. I guarantee it.”
He glared. “You want to die?”
“Better than being stuck with you another minute.”
There was no thought process involved. One second they were staring each other down, seething mad and deciding how best to kill one another, and the next they were crushed together, mouths and bodies fused as they engaged in a new battle.
Tongues dueled and fingers grasped and tore at clothes, hair, and body parts in an effort to touch and feel every inch of each other’s body. Elise’s wrapped herself around him tighter, and he pressed her against the wall so hard she was surprised the plaster didn’t crack. Kissing him was like waging a war between opposing nations, teeth biting lips while fisting each other’s hair to the point of pain.
The dam had broken, unleashing passion, intrigue, and pent-up anger and frustration, all culminating in what Elise knew would be one hell of a hate fuck.
But was it hate? She didn’t think so. If anything, it was pure, unadulterated lust that demanded satiation. Denying her attraction and the clawing need to act on it was, at this point, futile. Knowing it wasn’t a good idea wasn’t going to stop her, because Elise also knew that she had never felt this alive before. And if his partner made good on his threats to put her in a shallow grave, then she was going to milk what time she had left on earth for everything it had.
“If this is how you handle your anger,” Manhandler said as he began kissing and licking a path down her jaw to her neck, “then we’re going to fight more often.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Elise panted while knotting her fingers in his hair. “I’m making an exception, and only because it’s been a while.”
“So I get to fuck you by default?”
“Who said I’m going to let you do anything to me?”
“Oh, buttercup,” Manhandler said as he pulled her shirt up to her neck and released one of her breasts from its cup, “I think we both know I’m going to fuck you.”
Elise dropped her head back against the wall, moaning in bliss as he took her nipple between his lips and sucked hard. There was nothing she could say. He was right. She was going to let him do bad things to her, but only because she wanted it. At a time when her life was in utter chaos, she told herself she was in control of this. She set the pace. She set the rules. She controlled the outcome.
“I can almost hear the wheels turning in that head of yours,” Manhandler commented around a mouthful of boob. “Stop thinking and start feeling, buttercup.”
“There you go telling me what to do again.”
He chuckled. Then licked a circle around her nipple before lifting his head to meet her sex-glazed stare. “Better get used to it, buttercup. Not only am I going to tell you what to do, but I’m going to manhandle the shit out of you until you beg for mercy. But you know what?”
“What?” She panted, eager for his answer.
He lowered his mouth until his lips feathered across hers. “I won’t give you any.”
Elise’s heart galloped, and her fingers, still buried in his hair, clenched.
“You naughty girl. You like that, don’t you?”
“Mmm,” was all she could manage. She not only liked it; she loved it. The idea of him giving her no quarter was thrilling. She longed to be taken, and knowing he would be merciless just ratcheted up her desire even more.
Her shirt came up and over her head before she could blink. Her bra was removed a second later and discarded as well. Elise, topless, watched as if from a distance as her captor cupped and massaged, licked and nipped at each of her breasts, feasting on her tender flesh.
As his hands meandered down her across her hips and around to cup her backside, Elise fell victim to the sensations, uncaring of the consequences. Just then, she wanted only to feel.
