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I sighed once more, lips parting as he trailed his mouth along my jawline, down my neck. New tremors. Hotter blood. Delicious desire. And shit, we were still completely dressed.
I let a hand trail to his nape. Turned my head enough to watch my fingers play at the ends of his hair, still damp against his neck. “You’ve gotta stop stealing my lines, mister.”
He snorted. “That would be like me telling you not to be so much trouble.”
I scowled. And meant it. “Trouble? What the hell?”
“Leaving the shelter with Crista, in the middle of the storm—” His jaw tensed. I felt the tension of it back to the muscles beneath my fingers. “It was foolhardy, Lucy.”
“Foolhardy?” A laugh spurted before I could control it. “Ohhhh, my. Of course.” Then a nod, full of pseudo sobriety. “Foolhardy.”
“Do you prefer ‘completely stupid’?” In contrast, he wasn’t pseudo anything. Well, damn. Then damn, as he angled up long enough to grab my hand and slam it back down to the bed, next to my head. “Perhaps a ‘shit-for-brains-move’?” he spat. “How about just ‘dipstick dumb’?”
“All right,” I snapped. “I got it, I got it.” But when I jerked against his hold, his grip was as tight as double padlocks. Instantly, my system reacted by declaring war on itself. While my sex pulsed and clenched, at once recognizing its kinky temptation, my brain fantasized about getting free and smacking him. “It wasn’t like I had a choice—”
“You had a choice, Lucina.”
“I had no choice!”
“So Crista and Jayd pointed a gun and ordered you to help out?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Just like what you did was without a fucking brain cell.”
Walloping him seemed a better option by the second. “So you would’ve stayed behind? Let them go out on their own?”
“Not a relevant question.”
“Excuse the hell out of me?”
“Jayd is my sister, and Crista might as well be. I have known her for seven years, and employed her for the last three. I attended Forryst and Fawna’s vaftême. Their christening,” he responded to my furrowed brow, before matching the look. “Those twins are like extended family to me.”
“But they aren’t to me.” I flung it as accusation, and wasn’t one bit sorry. “And that’s your reasoning why I should’ve sat there on my ass, and watched Crista ‘fight her own fight’?”
His jawline turned to steel. “You are twisting my intention.”
“Seriously?” Bitter shrug. “Seems crystal clear to me.”
“Lucina…” It edged on a growl. Undoubtedly, he felt the answering quivers of my pussy. I couldn’t control those, but I could keep up the pissed glare. Easily.
“Just calling this show like I see it, Your Highness.”
He arched a brow. “And how is that?”
“That you’re actually upset that I helped Crista out.” Hearing it out loud only honed my anger about it. “That even though I’ve known her only seven hours instead of seven years, you’re pissed that I actually gave a damn. That I actually—”
His hard kiss cut me off. But did the dickwad think it would make me all melty-silent? I grunted hard then groaned harder, clarifying what he could do with that presumption. The bastard turned the moment into full advantage, sweeping his tongue in past my parted lips, stabbing it against mine. Ravaging me without apology or mercy or leniency.
By the time he was done, I was melted.
Actually wondered if I’d have to re-learn how to speak again.
“I am not ‘upset’, tupulai.” He rolled his hips, mashing his throbbing bulge against all the most sensitive parts of me. “Your heart…its unspeakable generosity…” Another thrust, more adamant than before. “It makes me hard in ways you cannot fathom.”
“Oh.” Okay, at least I managed that. Maybe there was hope for the rest of my vocabulary, “Well. I actually think I can fathom—ahhh!”
My yelp cracked the air as he rammed me even more roughly. The treatment was almost punishment, confirmed by the new lightning in his eyes—and the unflinching command in his tone.
