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Better yet, how strong were those drinks? Did Lynne order an extra shot for each?
7
I can almost make out the thoughts swirling in her pretty little head. Her expressions are honest and open while being tinged with a heady hint of anger.
And the latter is something I find attractive on her.
It brings out a bit of the dormant claws I wish to feel break my skin. The sign of each aggressive thought is there in her body language. How she stiffens, pulls herself subconsciously a little closer while gripping—digging the blunt fingernails into my abdomen—while her lips curl up a little around the corner.
Bloody adorable.
Then, she ruins me when they turn into a pout.
She’s Venus in human form. Perfection.
“Fucking delicious,” I mutter low, not that she hears me either way. Aliana’s thoughts are yo-yoing back and forth, at war with each other, but it’s her fear of what they would say that is of no importance to me.
Fuck her father. Fuck what anyone thinks.
All I need is her smile and to watch that mouth wrap around my cock, and in that order. The rest we can figure out because this pull between us—the way my entire being is held captive by her—is something I won’t deny myself.
I want all of her. Every bloody inch.
Because every part of this short, full-of-sass beauty calls to the part of me that’s more beast than human. I’m a man who thirsts for blood, who tortures those who have done me or mine wrong, and that protective instinct is burning me alive with her proximity.
She has no idea of the target I’m placing on her head. Of the claim, but she will.
“Not even close, Miss.”
“So that was—” Aliana’s eyes narrow while releasing my dress shirt as if to step back, but I lay my hand over hers, trapping it there.
“Stop.”
“Listen, Callum...” she begins and then trails off.
The way she says my name. Motherfuck.
A heated hiss escapes me, my entire body coiling tight in pleasure, and I bite down on my bottom lip to not scare her. There’s a rumbling building in my chest, a growl I’m fighting back, but the now heavy-lidded eyes staring at me are my undoing.
“Say it again.” Not a question, but a demand through gritted teeth. My need is too overwhelming to ask nicely.
“Say what?” Lord help this girl because once I have her... Especially with the way those dark eyes are watching me, a dangerous gaze that caresses my skin. She looks down, stopping at my Adam’s apple, and licks her bottom lip with a slow sweep. Lower, and she bites the plump flesh while admiring my chest, belt, and then the thick bulge in my trousers.
Her gaze stops there, and a soft gasp escapes.
I flex behind the zipper of my trousers, fucking painful jerks as pre-come dribbles from the tip, staining my pants. An action she sees, and again her thighs move, clench for me.
Fucking temptress.
But before she can further test my control, I grip her waist and lift, holding her against me for a few seconds. Chest to chest. Her lips are a few centimeters from my own; my need to taste them is near perverse, but I don’t. Not yet. Instead, I sit her down on the barstool I watched her occupy a short while ago.
Automatically her thighs spread for me, the fingers in my dress shirt tugging me closer. I step between them without pause, forcing them wider so my hips are cradled just an inch or two from her wetness.
I feel her heat through my trousers, though.
I have the perfect view of that sinful skirt pushed up, exposing the gusset of her underwear with the plump flesh of her pussy spilling out of the sides. There’s a little bit of sheen on her flesh, her wetness, and I throw my head back with a groan.
This woman was made to tempt me. Chest expanding, I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then again, and again, but nothing calms me. Instead, I’m lit with an unsatiated desire to lay Heaven down at her dainty feet before the demon inside breaks her apart with pleasure.
