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Trap him between my teeth and never let go. Of course.
I’m getting under his skin. The first step of being inside him.
“You can fight me, can choke the life out of me, but that won’t stop you from wanting me,” I strain and wrap my hand around his throat, on the hickey he’s hiding as if his life depends on it. “You came here to stop me from fucking Clara. You weren’t madforher, you were madather. You didn’t like the way she touched me and called me babe, right?”
“Shut your mouth.”
“You’re pissed off at me because I let her touch me?”
That beautiful rage shines bright behind his eyes, but then he says the exact opposite of what he thinks, “Why would I care what you do?”
“Always playing a role, my lotus flower. Hiding, pretending. You obviously broke up with her tonight. Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“How…?”
“She told me she was going through a breakup and was looking to forget at the pub.” I try to get my head closer, but he keeps me in place with his unyielding hold. “You did it for me, didn’t you? You lost her because I told you to. No. You did it because you wanted to be withme. Because you know I’m the only one who can give you what you need.”
“Stop dreaming.”
“Stop fucking pretending.” I remove the Band-Aid at his throat, revealing the purple hickey. “Stop hiding.”
He shakes his head, but his fingers loosen around my throat. Bran isn’t weak. Sure, I have more muscles, but he has strength. The reason he let me touch him the previous times isn’t because he couldn’t stop me. It’s because he chosenotto stop me.
Like right now.
His war for control breaks like ice beneath his feet.
I’m the lake waiting to swallow him fucking whole.
My fingers spread on his sharp jaw, my lips an inch from his, breathing notes of alcohol and mint off his fractured exhales.
“Don’t you dare…” he whispers and it’s shaky, breathless.
The asshole clearly wants me, he’sburningfor it. His body language gives him away. Eyes darkening, nostrils flaring, and fingers holding my neck so lovingly—though he’d argue otherwise—and his huge dick is performing a standing ovation for me.
But he’s still fighting tooth and nail, still refusing to admit the inevitable.
“Want to blame me again?” I murmur against his skin.
A puff of air leaves his mouth and he nods once.
“Then blame me all you want, baby.”
I slam my lips to his, taking what’s mine.
Because he is fuckingmine.
It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know it yet and would probably deny it till kingdom come. It doesn’t matter that he’s a fucking asshole.
He’s my asshole. Literally.
Bran opens with a groan, his hot, wet tongue clashing against mine as he moans. He moans like the most erotic fucking thing I’ve ever devoured.
He’s so pliant and passionate when my mouth speaks to his, so fucking wanton and responsive. His hips roll and he brushes his cock against mine as I kiss the living daylights out of him.
I nibble on his bottom lip the way he loves, then plunge my tongue back inside, seeking his greedy one, stroking, rubbing, and twirling.
His jaw flexes with every kiss, every nip, and every savage sound I release down his throat.
