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I want to scream at him to stop. To leave me the hell alone so that I can live with myself today. He’d do it.
But my throat is too tight and, instead, what comes out is his name on a moan.
As if he can detect the shift in me, he doubles his efforts, his fingers slipping deep inside, searching for that spot. When he finds it, I jolt, and within seconds, I’m being flung over the edge. I come in relentless waves that have me screaming and clawing at the sheets and gasping for air all at the same time.
Arran gets to his knees and moves closer, his thighs pushing against the backs of my legs. “Ask me to fuck you, Skye,” he says as he presses the head of his cock over my entrance.
I cry out from the contact on my still-pulsing flesh.
“Ask me to fuck you,” he repeats, his dick sliding up and down over my clit.
I’m in that mindless fog, unable to speak and glad for it because if I could, I’d say yes. Yes, fuck me. Fill me. Make me come again.
But I’m saved the horror of begging the enemy to fuck me when he tightens his fist around his cock and begins to pump. Faster and faster he does it, until cum shoots from the head and covers my belly.
When he’s done, he looks at the mess he’s made. “That cum should be inside you, Skye. It should be spilling from your pretty pussy. When you ask me to fuck you, I’ll never come anywhere else.”
The shame of reaching my climax, of giving Arran exactly what he wants, is too fresh, and my words come out with a bite. “I’ll never ask you to fuck me and mean it. So just do it if that’s what you’re after. You know I won’t fight you.”
“Becauseyouneed protection.”
I hesitate to reply, not liking something in his statement. “Yes.”
A crease forms between his brows as his gaze searches mine. Then, without another word, he gets up and disappears into the bathroom. Several minutes later, he returns with a moist towel. He’s about to clean me up but seems to think better of it.
Then he swipes a fingertip across the wetness, gathering some of it, and brings it to my lips. “Lick it.”
Almost of its own accord, my tongue darts out. The taste of his male essence is like a drug, warming me instantly. A flush spreads over my cheeks and through my body as I clean his finger.
Arran’s gaze glasses over, like he’s hypnotized as he watches me lick him. He pulls out and gathers more of his cum off my belly and brings it to my lips. “Again.”
I clean him off once more, this time shutting my eyes the same way he did when he ate me. Now I understand why he did it. Because as much as he might hate me, his body doesn’t. Just like me, he craves what he shouldn’t.
We taste good to each other.
“When I come back later, you’re doing this to my dick,” he says gruffly.
He pulls his finger out again, and I watch as he goes to the bathroom, leaving the door open. I remain in bed, staring in that direction, wondering if it’s an invitation to go in. An order. Neither.
I’m about to stand but stop when the doorbell rings. Arran comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist and rivulets of water dripping from his hair and rolling down his naked chest.
I make a little sound in my throat and avert my gaze. This physical attraction is a damned curse. “You have a guest.”
“Charles will get it.” From the closet, he takes out a gray suit and dresses in it.
“Where are you going?” I ask, holding the sheets to my chest.
“I have several meetings this morning.” He goes to the wood armoire with mirrored panels and pulls out a silvery-blue tie, then closes the door and peers into his reflection as he puts it on.
“Will you be gone long?”
“Several hours. Make yourself at home. The fridge and pantry are stocked if you get hungry.”
“I can explore the house?”
He peers at me through the mirror and makes a final adjustment to his tie. Then he turns to me. “You can go anywhere you’d like. Open any drawers. I keep nothing here that needs to be guarded. Well, except for you.”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. Can I roam freely, or do you have any rooms I need to avoid?”
