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“I said to lock the damn door, Woman!”
I ignore the need in his voice, barking, “Get out!”
He advances. “Why do you do that?”
I back away. “Do what?”
“Take!” he spits out, jolting me with that word.You’re a Taker, Kaya.“You want me to give and give. You want my words, my tongue, but you just fucking shut down, turn on me as soon as the moment arises that I’m not perfectly accepting of what your needs are.”
What the fuck?“My needs?”
“Yeah. You’re spoilt. What do you need, Kaya? My tongue? My attention? For me to talk about my dad? My bruises? Want me to take your mind off your mum, convince you that your dad will be okay, give you affirmations, praise, and when I don’t, you just fucking crack.”
My heart hurts, his words sliding into the frantically pumping organ like knives of a thousand truths. “How did I crack?”
He shakes his head. “You wouldn’t let me justbe. Deal with itmyway. Just sit with me in the car. Hold my fucking hand or something. Just be near me and let me brood!”
“How much nearer do you want to get,” I growl. “You’ve been between my legs!”
“So have a hundred other guys!”
Anger pummels me. I gasp, lifting my hand to slap his tragically breathtaking face, but he thrusts out a powerful limb, possesses my throat in his hand and holds me away.
My eyes widen. Then he drags me forward, mashing our lips together, his tongue diving between them, claiming my mouth as its own playground, as its emotional aid.
I grip his forearm, accepting all he has to give and take, as he walks me backwards.
My calves hit the bed and we land on it.
I should stop him…
He uses the hold he has on my throat to drag me beneath his scorching body up the bed; the struggle to breathe between his desperate kisses only sends my pulse soaring.
“Xander,” I pant into his kiss as his lips slide across my face, gnawing at my jawline, hungry in their pursuit to relieve more than his tension.
I hold on to his waist. His body thrusts me into the mattress, taking pleasure through our clothes.
Helplessly, I mewl as he growls, “I want to do dirty things with you.” Lifting onto his elbows, he takes a hold of my face, thumb and forefingers dipping in to pry my jaw apart. His gaze crashes with mine, and he says, “Let me.”
I shake my head with feeble adamance.
“No?” he challenges. “Why? You don’t want me inside you? Because some arsehole broke your heart? Cheated on you? Because you gave yourself to someone, and they fucked up and made you feel used? Or because you saw some shitty porno whereactorsfuck and spit and use otheractors. That’s not what it’s always like, Kaya. It goes both ways. You’re inside me. You’re already in so fucking deep.”
God.I can’t accept those words. I won’t. “Youareconcussed,” I breathe, my mouth struggling around the sentence, his grip still firm.
He continues strongly, “I would never use you, Woman. I want more with you. I want to be inside you—”
My lips are forced open further by his fingers while he stares down at the pink entrance. “Like this.” Then he spits into my mouth, and the feel of his wet, warm saliva jolts pleasure through every nerve, an erotic exchange that gyrates my hips upwards toward him. “And this,” he grinds against me. “Let menearyou.”
Writhing and rolling along the bruising rod between his thighs, I lose myself in the feral action.
He smirks, revelling in my obvious arousal. “Want my spit, Woman? In your mouth. In your pussy? Where else? Do you want it to drip from my lips to your face? Slap your cheeks? Do you want me to drool for you?”
Seduced by his gravelly voice and hooded eyes, I swallow and nod.
A warrior’s face, painted in blues and reds, he opens those skilled lush lips, slowly letting his saliva drip from the tip of his tongue down to my lips.
A stream of it connecting us.
