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“Okay. Talk about making a scene,” Steph said.
Misha responded with the same mind-boggling tone, “Well, that was a first.”
People were startled for a second, but the party went on like nothing happened.
Well, now I had a stranger’s penis prodding my ribs instead of Ares’s death stare. And I couldn’t decide which one was worse.
9
ARES
Who did she think she was, barging into my life like fucking gorgeous sin on two caramel-toned legs?
She’d danced with my dad, bonded with my brother, and had made new friends.
Well, more than just friends.
She was letting Misha kiss her. I shouldn’t give a fuck. But why? Why was she…why was she instantly loved by, apparently, everyone?
She was pleasant, nice to everyone. Hot as fuck. She hadn’t even cursed at me for being a giant prick. Hadn’t called me out on it either.
She should at least give me her anger.
I stood inside the dark room. The only sound was from the air-conditioning humming while I studied the outline of her curves underneath the satin sheets. I should’ve just grabbed any wanting girl and fucked her into oblivion.
Yeah right, who was I kidding? These temperamental tingles were unbelievably hard to satisfy. The knot of resentment in my throat wasn’t unraveling, burning another layer of scar tissue around my heart.
That I was drunk and standing in her room, not knowing whether I wanted to choke her or fuck her or both, only made the muscles in my body tighten. It was easier to destroy her this way. Use her.
God, I wanted to use her.
Dita stirred. So did my dick. She wasn’t awake, her soft breathing an indication she was still sleeping. Or maybe, she just wasn’t afraid of me. But I’d seen it in her eyes. I thrived on it. An emotion only for me.
It smelled so damn good in here. Too good. Too sweet.
Of course, Cary had to marry a woman with a daughter that smelled like she bathed in fucking coconut milk. She didn’t. The scent she’d bathed in last time was my shower gel. I didn’t know which scent on her was better.
I set one foot in front of the other, prowling towards her bed. The closer I got, the faster my heart beat, the freer the blood flowed through my veins.
Her eyes popped open right before I threw off the covers and jumped onto her, caging her in with my legs aside her body and straddling her petite, feminine frame. I caught her wrists, threw her struggling arms above her head, and lowered my face to hers. Almost touching those lips. Breathing out warm, fleeting breaths.
“Still not locked up?” I chastised, “Not very smart, is it, Dita?”
I took the time to take in her naked breasts, flat belly and thick thighs. She was only wearing boy shorts. Freaking sexy if you asked me. Dita had the body mankind worshipped. Statues were built throughout centuries only trying to capture this kind of beauty.
Her eyes, though—I loved the hidden hellfire in them.
“What do you want?” Her voice thickened with trepidation, becoming aware of her surroundings. Of me.
“Mm, that’s a loaded question, Double D,” I hummed hoarsely, brushing my nose against hers. “I can think of many things I want. The only way of telling you what exactly is to show you.”
She swallowed heavily, watching me cautiously and wriggling underneath me to break free. “Get off me!”
“Or what?” I challenged, loving the way she battled me. She couldn’t win, not with the adrenaline coursing through my body. Her eyes blazed with fire, and I knew exactly how it felt. Because it radiated through my entire being as well.
“Don’t do this,” she pleaded.
“Why? I’m just playing a little. You like that, don’t you?”
