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‘Go to bed,’ he said, for the third time. His voice was deeper this time, more commanding than ever. It said: Don’t fucking disobey me.
Amusement flitted across her features. She tiptoed across the divide that separated them and placed a gentle hand in the centre of his bare chest. His heart was pumping as if he’d just run a marathon, and it made her smile.
‘Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight?’ she asked.
She took his hand and teased one finger away from the rest. He watched with fascination and disbelief as she put his index finger to her lips and sucked it into her hot, wet mouth. He felt her tongue swirl around the tip, saw the invitation in her eyes, and his resolve exploded into a million pieces along with the vodka bottle as it slipped out of his grip, smashing onto the tiles at his feet.
He was going to pay for this.
But it would be worth it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
MARIANA
He had told me to go to bed, and instead, I had crossed the void that existed between us, a symbolic space he’d constructed when he took two steps back and leaned on the opposite wall. He had said he would let me choose, and I was choosing him. Not because I loved him — Jesus, I wasn’t sure I even liked him — but because I saw my out, and I grabbed that out with two hands as I dragged his lips to mine. It didn’t have to be about love. It could just be sex, and he could rid me of this problem. This loneliness, this aching void inside me. He could get rid of that for me.
And maybe, just maybe, I could make him feel something for me in the process. Yes. Get him wrapped around my finger so tight, he’d do anything for me. I wasn’t stupid — I knew I was a pretty girl, and the tension that sizzled between us was larger than either of us.
I’d felt the switch inside him flip, in the way he grabbed my arms and squeezed them almost to the point of pain. His mouth on mine tasted too good for me to believe he was my enemy, but therein lay part of the thrill, I suppose. Beating him at his own game. Owning him so he didn’t just own me.
He’d picked me up with two impossibly strong arms, carrying me into the master bedroom as we continued to kiss each other with a fire that threatened to destroy us both. He was already naked from the waist up, and I wanted to join him sooner rather than later. I dragged my tank top over my head and let it fall to the floor.
When he leaned me against the bed and unbuttoned the top of my denim shorts, I wasn’t prepared. Before I could catch up, he snaked his hand down the front of my pants and thrust two fingers inside my wet heat.
I moaned. It was loud, desperate.
His eyes flew open and he dropped me like I was on fire. I landed on my back on a soft bed, with Dornan above me, my legs trapped in the space between his thighs as he stood over me.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah,’ I said breathlessly, inexplicably embarrassed.
He leaned back slightly. ‘You sure you wanna do this?’
I swallowed. He looked affronted.
‘Get dressed,’ he said, picking my tank top up and throwing it at me.
I caught the top and threw it back at him, just as hard.
‘Scared?’ It was a challenge.
‘Of hurting you? Yeah,’ he said darkly.
I moved forward so I was kneeling on the edge of the bed.
‘I’m sure,’ I said.
Before he could move away, I kissed him again. If I could just make him feel something for me, maybe he’d protect me. Este was dead. And I was dying inside, a ghost girl trapped alone in a world Dornan had created for me.
He held the cure to my suffering.
I pulled him down again, kissing him with more urgency this time.
‘Fuckin’ Christ, woman,’ he said in between hard, furious kisses that scratched my delicate skin with stubble and made me wet with excitement.
He broke the kiss and pushed me forcefully away. I landed on my elbows and ass, thankful that I had a mattress to break my fall. For a moment, I figured that he would leave me again, unsatisfied and scared, alone in the dark with my nightmares.
