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Brushing my shirt tails out of the way, she undid the button of my jeans. My hand tightened in her hair, my eyes locked on the fingers skillfully undressing me. My anger still simmered, but my dick didn’t care. Hell, the anger was like a lit match to my hunger, adding to the heat lapping at my spine.
She eased the zipper down over my erection. I’d gone commando after my shower, and it pushed out of the opening, blood-engorged and straining toward her. She fisted me and licked the slit.
Her tongue was hot and wet. I made a sound: part sigh, part groan.
She cast a look up at me, lips still twisted. Somewhere in my lust-drenched brain a lightbulb flashed.
She wasn’t turned on. She wasn’t doing this because she wanted to. She was treating me like a goddamn job.
My fingers tightened on her hair. This time I didn’t intend to hurt her, but I did. She winced but remained where she was, gazing up at me scornfully.
“Stop.” My voice was a raw scrape in my throat.
“Isn’t this what you want?” She stroked a palm down my hard length. “Sir.”
I swore. A sharp, foul word. My dick loved her calling mesir, but not like this.
“Stand up, damn you.”
She started to scramble back up. I helped, grabbing her arm with my free hand and dragging her ungently to her feet.
I unwound my hand from her hair and jerked my chin at the couch. “Sit.”
She swiped the back of her hand over her mouth, eyes narrowed with challenge. “What’s wrong?”
“Just sit the fuck down.”
“Or else what?”
“Now,” I snarled, and her sense of self-preservation finally kicked in. She sat, although on the armchair, not the couch.
I came to my feet, pulling up my jeans but leaving them undone. Crossing the small space between us, I leaned over and wrapped my fingers around her nape.
“Don’tevercheck out on me like that again.”
“Youownme, remember? As long as you get off, why do you care?”
My back teeth set. “It’s not like that. Between us.”
“It is now,sir.”
“Donotcall me ‘sir.’ Not unless you mean it.”
“Then what should I call you? My lord?”
Goddamn her anyway. How had she managed to turn the tables on me? To make me feel guilty for treating her like property?
But I’d realized one thing. I might want to own Twilight, but I wanted her to like it.
And yeah, I knew that was fucked up. That I wasn’t being rational.
But I couldn’t help myself.
She opened her mouth to say something else and I stopped her with a furious kiss. She made a soft, mewling sound.
Hades. I’d hurt her.
My gut clenched. I lifted my head.
