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“Why do you care?” She throws her hands into the air. “You’ve made it obvious you aren’t interested in having friends. Especially if that friend is me.”
“But there are other guys who are interested in being friends with you, aren’t there? Is that the kind of friend you want?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t care. Have a good night.” She goes so far as to bump me with her elbow as she passes—but she doesn’t get far when I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her toward me.
“No. That’s not how this goes.” I haul her in close and pin her against me with a hand on her back. She smells like vanilla and cinnamon, and I intend to wear that scent all over me by the time I’m finished. “You don’t get to walk away from this.”
“Let me go.” There’s not much conviction in her voice, not that I need there to be.
“We’re going to get clear on a few things first.” She lets out a soft yelp when I bend and throw her over my shoulder. Her soft, weak protests fall on deaf ears while I march up my front steps and carry her into the house.
She’s not going to sleep tonight without remembering who she belongs to.
7
NOELLE
“This is insane.” Nothing I say seems to matter since Luka never breaks his stride as he carries me into the house, then kicks the door shut. I’m too busy freaking out to notice much about the interior—it’s dark, but I get a feeling of emptiness. Sparseness.
It goes by in a flash. He’s moving fast, a man on a mission, and before I know it, he takes me up the stairs and to the end of the hall where the master bedroom must be. Only once he’s thrown me to the bed does he say a word.
“You’re mine.” He’s rough as he yanks off my hat, then unbuttons my coat and pulls it away before tossing it to the floor at the foot of the large, soft bed. A bed softer than I would expect a man this hard to sleep in.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The fact is, I could fight harder. I really could. I could have screamed for help before he brought me in here—I’m sure somebody would’ve heard, with the rest of the group still chatting a few houses down.
The fact is my heart’s racing from something more than fear. I’ve never been through anything like this, but I think I could learn to enjoy it.
Still, I’m his? That’s a little more than I feel comfortable with.
But I can tell he’s serious, stripping quickly, his eyes never leaving mine. He’s angry with me. Why is he angry? “What did I do? Why are you doing this?”
“Oh, so letting that piece of shit hang all over you is normal? It doesn’t stand out to you at all?”
“That piece of shit?” My panicked brain races around, trying to decode his cryptic growling. “Do you mean Jake Miller?”
“That’s his name?” He kicks off his heavy-soled shoes before dropping his jeans and his boxers along with them. Naturally, his dick catches my eye, hard and thick and swaying slightly.
Then he pulls me closer by my legs before hauling me up into a sitting position. “We’re not talking about him anymore. I can think of better things for you to do with your mouth.”
It wouldn’t matter if I tried to fight him off or not. There’s no stopping him from pulling my sweater over my head before he fondles my breasts almost cruelly; his touch is rough and careless. I’m caught between groaning in pain and begging him for more. It hurts, but not enough to make me want to stop. It’s good, exciting, and makes my heart beat faster than ever.
“Like anyone could give you what I give you. Like any man could make you come the way you come for me.” He winds my hair around his fist and tugs until I suck a sharp breath into my lungs.
I don’t realize what he’s doing until the head of his cock runs over my lips, coating them in salty precum. “Now, I’m giving you this. Suck it. Suck it like a good girl who knows she’ll be coming on it before the end of the night.”
I don’t know what it is about the things he says and the way he says them, but it has me almost painfully aroused by the time I part my lips to take him inside. His deep groan of approval makes me bolder—I want to hear it again and again and know I’m the one who makes him do it.
“Damn, baby,” he growls, moving his hips. Slowly at first, with shallow little thrusts, moving faster until I have to fight to keep up. “You know how to treat a cock. Maybe I’ll come down that pretty throat of yours instead.”
I press my tongue to the underside of this shaft, and again he groans. It’s a helpless sort of sound, and it drives me wild. I could get addicted to that sound.
I could get addicted to this man. There is nothing right about that. It doesn’t matter that my panties are flooded, my skin feels like it’s sizzling, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt this alive. There’s something wrong with this.
Maybe that’s what makes it feel so right.
Suddenly, he’s holding my head in place and fucking my face with abandon, leaving me struggling to breathe while fighting just as hard not to let my gag reflex ruin things. “Or maybe I’ll come all over this beautiful face. I’ll leave you dripping and throw you back outside. Maybe your little boyfriend would take the hint. What do you think?” He plunges in deep and holds himself in place, laughing as he imagines my humiliation. A tear rolls down my cheek, but he doesn’t notice, too wrapped up in his imagination.
My body sags with relief when he pulls out, and I can suck in a ragged breath. “No. I need to remind you how much you love having my cock shoved deep inside your cunt.” He catches my jaw in one hand, leaning down until our noses touch. There’s nothing in the world but him, overwhelming me, blocking out everything else.
