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It is, however, far more erotic than all the others. Cash’s hand loosens from my ponytail, moving around my neck. His fingertips press into the underside of my chin, angling for deeper access as his free hand comes around to dip beneath the fabric of my shirt, palming my belly. Warmth zaps through me, his touch like a thousand stings taking my breath away—and yet deliriously good.
I shouldn’t love it the way I do.
“Let me in, Kitten,” Cash encourages against my lips, and my mind pushes back with confusion.In? In where?
His arms are steel bands around my body, caging me to him. Alarm bells sound in the distant recesses of my brain, because I never want to leave this prison. Never really want to know freedom again. It hurtsmore being free than living in the illusion of being his. At his dark and twisted mercy. Because even though I know this isn’t real, it feels real. Every time he touches me, kisses me, demands something from me, I feel more and more like I’m signing away bits and pieces of my soul. Fragments I’ll never get back even though he promises to return them all, they’ll never quite fit together again. The seams forever jaded by dangerous kisses barbed by promises never made.
This man is going to wreck me.
The hand at my belly turns firm, pressing my body harder against his. I become aware, then, of the hardening of his arousal. He’s so much bigger than me, when he grinds, it’s into my low back. Still, it’s intense. Everything this man does to me is intense, and this is no different.
When I gasp, my lips parting, he takes advantage. His lips part over mine, his tongue moving between mine. Shivers erupt over the entirety of my body. Goosebumps like tiny needles of arousal shooting through my skin to the deep of me. It won’t take long before those pricks touch my heart—and deeper yet—imbedding into my very soul.
It’s too much. He’s too much.
I want more.
“That’s it,” he practically purrs into my mouth, tongue stroking mine. I arch my ass into him, my bodyseeking something more. Something I sense only he can give me.
Oh God, it almost hurts. This desire. This hot, heady ache he’s building in me. The fire he stokes with every stroke of his expert tongue against mine.
When I think I might die, torn apart, split at the seams of me—he pulls back to murmur against my jaw. “Fuck, you taste good.”
Why do those words make me feel like I’m going to ignite, ripping through the dark night like a show of fireworks?
“Cash,” I moan when he pushes me forward, and my hips connect with the countertop, granite biting sharply into flesh. I’m not sure if I’m protesting this or pleading for more.
He makes my head spin. When I arch my butt back again, he lets out a husky sound that calls an answering moan from my lips.
“Fuck,” he hisses again. Then he slams both hands onto the counter on either side of me, resting his forehead against my shoulder. He’s still behind me, breathing hard. His body isn’t touching mine anymore. The only part of him that connects with me is his forehead against my shoulder. And yet, I feel just as surrounded by him—just as consumed as ever.
My voice rattles, “What’s happening?”
He laughs, but it’s not a sound of humor. It’s something else. Something darker. Something he doesn’texplain to me as he reaches around me to hook the handle of his coffee mug. Then he pushes away, sipping the morning brew with his eyes fixed intensely on me.
Finally, he informs me in a tone that brokers no room for negotiation, “I’m coming with you.”
seventeen
Cash
Wrenlee stops in the middle of the mall, tips her head back, and groans to the skylight,“Pleeeease.”
She’s looking at the thing like it’s a window for a deity who might take pity on her, answering the deepest yearning of her soul. She’s magnificent. Unexpectedly exquisite.
Mine.
There’s something wrong with me.“One more stop.”
The defiant little thing shakes her head. “No. No more stops.”
“Kitten,” I start for her, but she holds up a hand in warning.The nerve.
“Don’tKitten, me, Cash.” I raise a brow, amused. She powers on. “I’m tired. And I’m not letting you pay for anything else. I’m done.” She folds her arms across her full chest as though the very act is the shield that will stop me from connecting with her. From dragging her to the last store.
I’m the kind of guy who saves the best for last. So she’s coming for this whether she wants to come or not.
“One more.” She shakes her head and I quirk a grin. The very grin I’ve noticed she can’t resist.
